GBK (Gourmet Burger Kitchen), 45 Greenwich Church Street, Greenwich, London, SE109BL

Went to the cinema yesterday, and watched the latest by Ricky Gervais, called Ghost Town. It may sound like a horror movie, but it's not. It's what I would describe as a chick-flick pumping iron in the gym.

The movie listings aren't that varied at the moment. There's:

High School Musical 3 (if you like white teeth, squeaky voices and cute little things, buy a hamster)

Burn After Reading (this was one of the other ones I wanted to watch, but, as they say, one movie a day means no meals today)

Saw 5

Space Chimps

Eagle Eye
I really enjoyed this film. The trailers do do justice to the film, in that, if you find the trailers funny, there's plenty more of that in the film. If you like The Office (with an American feel, i.e. Gervais-funny with white teeth), you'll like this.

This leads on nicely to the next topic, which is Observations of Popcorns and Such in a Cinema.

Somewhere between the end of the trailers and adverts, and the start of the film, the lights went on in the cinema. My first thought was, are they selling ice creams? But of course, no such thing, this being a cinema in East London and all that. My second thought was, why is there so much popcorn on the floor?

5 minutes later when the lights were still on, some people at the back of my row started threatening that they would complain. A few even had the audacity to loudly mutter under their breaths that this was unacceptable.

The whole thing peaked to a horribly tensed moment when a 12 year old actually said 'I want a refund'.

The crowd were luckily saved from actually having to complain when the lights went back off, and everyone had their Valium, and settled back down to enjoy the film.

After the movie had ended, we decided to go to GBK for some burgers. Some people say that GBK was actually the first to start this 'luxury' burger concept. I'm not too sure about the validity of this claim, but they're certainly one of the more prominant better burger restaurants in town.

They also seem to be more popular in London than in the smaller towns, such as Manchester, where I only saw one GBK in the entire town, unlike in London where they're nearly everywhere.

The concept in GBK is like this. You want burger, you go to GBK. They give you a table and the table number, you go to the counter, give them your order, pay for it, and wait for the items to be sent to your table.

Currently, there's a promotion for Buy One Get One Free on the burgers at GBK, which is what brings a cheapskate like me to a burger restaurant like this.

I had a Chicken with Avocado and Bacon burger, without the bun.

My bf had a Mexican Beef burger, with the bun and half the kitchen on it.

The burger is about the size of a small horse. When it is brought to the table, you almost have to fight the instinct to run from the restaurant shouting, 'I didn't order this horse' before being brought back, screaming and scratching to get away.

Taste-wise, it's probably one of the best burgers I've had in London. The reason for this is the fresh ingredients used, and the way they actually cook the burger to how you specify it to be cooked. The bacon tasted sweet, I guess it's because it was honey-cured bacon, and the avocado was smooth. The dip that we ordered (garlic mayo) was definitely full of garlic and herbs and went very well with the chips.

The chicken fillet was a whole piece of chicken, crumbed on the outside and fried. The beef was pink (medium rare) and juicy, and when you bit into it, you could feel the mince and how it was chewy and very satisfying.

Big Mac just not big enough? Whoppers for starters?

This burger might be just the thing for you.

Steaming the boat

It's in the shape of a boat and it has steam coming out the chute in the middle.
Or, if you don't have the actual equipment, but want to steam the boat anyway, you buy a camping stove from Argos for £20, put a pot over the camping stove, and call it steampot.

Hotpot, steamboat, chinese fondue, whatever you call it, it involves a pot, soup and constant heating of the pot to allow the diners to cook their food while they eat it.
This might be a strange concept to some, but the main purpose of dining this way is so that the host doesn't feel excluded from the party.

At most dinner parties, the host (or the cook who got the short straw) sweats away in the kitchen while the guests party and laugh away in the front room.
Not so much at a hotpot party. EVERYONE sweats away together in front of the camping stove.

This is the kind of host my guests have the pleasure of dining with.

The dishes are put around the pot, and when the soup boils, everyone puts whatever they want into the pot.
Cue, frenzied chopstick action in the pot, every stick intent on putting more and more into the pot.

When every inch in the pot is filled, you add more on.
And then you wait for it to boil and just before it oveflows onto the tabletop, you scoop it all out onto your bowl.

This might be a good time to pause, and ponder on this question. Why is it that at buffets, or at all-you-can-eat restaurants, do we feel the need to consume the equivalent of 2 weeks' worth of food?

This is the formula I go by:

(Buffet price / average price of a meal) = number of times I have to visit the buffet table

This usually equates to about 12. You might now think that I go to very expensive buffets. Actually, I just have very cheap meals.

This is how the buffet visits usually go.

First 3 rounds: Filled with excitement and a sense of achievement, smiling all the way to and back from the buffet table

Next 2 rounds: If I hold my breath, I won't have to loosen the belt. If I breathe out, buttons pop. But still, the buffet championships must go on.

Next 3 rounds: Not smiling too much, in fact, not much expression because all concentration is on how to get from the buffet table to the dining table without breathing too much.

Next 2 rounds: Someone else is sent to the buffet table, instructions are to only get the stuff which cost £2 or more a piece.

Next 2 rounds: Bill, please.

But anyway, back to the boat.
So, we had steampot on Saturday. This was after the visit to the fish market, so the ingredients were mainly fish.

Starters were pan-fried scallops and grilled chicken wings. Scallops, like pancakes, tend to require a few rounds of cooking before you perfect the art. Scallops, unlike pancakes, cost alot more.

Such expensive little pancakes.

Prawns also made their way to the pot. 1 kg of prawns for £7.50. No marinade necessary for these.
Prawns, when cooked, become orange. Prawns, when eaten, look like this.

No matter how much you've had for dinner, there's always that little space for dessert.


Marks & Spencer's apricot tart with some custard, perfect dessert for the steamboat.

Something smells fishy - Billingsgate Fish Market (first review), Canary Wharf, London

Fish here, there, everywhere.

We were at the Billingsgate Fish Market near Canary Wharf on Saturday, before sunrise. Why? Because all the good stuff gets bought by the restaurants by 7am, and if you want ANY of the good stuff, you'd better get there before the jumble sale finished.

This market is HUGE, it's like a superstore for fish. If you were a fish lover (i.e. of the cooked variety), this would be your weekend hangout.

The moment you enter the market (carpark), you smell fish. Not so good if you don't like fish. But then again, if you don't like fish, why are you up before sunrise at a fish market.

Let me describe the smells and sounds. It's a wet market, this means that everywhere you look, there are splashes. If you wear jeans that drag on the floor, you'd better fold them up (otherwise, the cats are gonna have a new hangout spot - your ankles).

The smell clings on to your nostrils, and to your coat. Days after the visit to the market, you put that coat on and still smell like Fred the Fishmonger. Trolleys are wheeled around the market like they're going out of fashion. Big trolleys too.

Name a fish, you'll probably find it there. The fishes are placed in styrofoam boxes with price tags on the boxes, usually priced at £/kg. Most of the stalls don't have a counter or sink where the fish can be filleted, so what you see is what you buy. One of the salmons we bought came in a bin bag.

Scallops are sold by the box, usually 1kg a box. The price of scallops vary from £10 to £12, depending on the grade.

Prawns vary from £7/kg to £12/kg, depending on the size of the prawns.

For those of you who can't seem to catch on to the fact that fishes come with tails, fins and all that, the market also sells fish of the frozen variety, and in the form of fish patties, fish fingers and fish cakes.

Fish.
This box of salmon (I counted about 10 fillets) cost £20. Compared to the price of buying a whole salmon, this is way more expensive, but worth it if you don't want to have to scale and fillet the fish in the kitchen.

For what I did with the fish, read the next post.

Lots and lots

This is a pizza. Not just any pizza, but a Domino's pizza. That is enough to make it more superior than any other pizza.

They're doughy and soft and each pizza comes with a garlic (or BBQ) dip. How awesome is that. A large Domino's pizza here costs about £15, but if you collect it instead of having it delivered, usually there are promotional offers such as Buy One Get One Free.

Needless to say, we usually collect.



This is the steak from Jamie's Wine Bar, near St. Paul's and actually in the City & Thameslink tube station. Sometimes, they have promotional offers on Toptable's website (http://www.toptable.co.uk/) and these include 50% off offers.

The steak at Jamie's, before the offer, is about £13.50 which means that after the offer, you get a 12 ounce steak for about £7. This is cheaper than the steak from Wetherspoon's, and, unless you like the tough, chewy, and mothball-smell that comes with a Wetherspoon steak, you'd be better off going to Jamie's.

Consistency though, is an issue at this wine bar. We've been there about 5 times now, and only twice have we really had a nice steak here. Actually, once, they didn't have the steak so perhaps that shouldn't be included in the count.


This is chilli con carne. For those who've not had this before, the word 'chilli con carne' might conjur 2 images (depending on what genre of films you watch).

Homer Simpson at the Great Chilli Cook-out, or
Cowboys eating from a tin can

This is actually a very similar dish to bolognese sauce, with the addition of chilli spices and beans to the chilli con carne (and you have it with rice).

When eaten hot, the spiciness and heat make you almost chew it too quickly, and the after taste is slightly salty and just that little bit bitter from the beans.

Here's a favourite at any English pub (and lazy cook's kitchen). Bangers and mash. Usually, 3 sausages and a heap of mash at a pub costs £8. When cooked in your own kitchen, it costs probably £3. I'm not quite sure why they charge those prices for what is actually just sausages and potatoes.

Best sausages for this: Cumberland, Lincolnshire

Marks and Spencer are now doing these £10 'dining for 2' meals during the weekends. What this means is that for £10, you get mains, side dishes, wine and dessert for 2. The chicken shown above is from that deal (ravioli added on), and the quality of the items are definitely worth the £10.

Chicken kiev baked in tomato sauce rice (lifted straight off the local chinese cafe menu). Chicken kiev (or chicken pieces) from the supermarket, baked in the oven till cooked, placed on top of rice, tomato sauce poured on top of that, and sprinkle with gratted cheddar. Baked at 180 degrees.

St. Germain, Farringdon

How'd you like your steak?
Raw. With a bit of gherkin, please.

Steak tartare

My friends had some discounts (half price = very good deal) for French restaurant St. Germain, and so, on a windy and cold Friday night, I set off from my office towards Farringdon. Farringdon is located North-East of London central, and is about 2 hours from town (kidding kidding, it's about 1.5).

East London, to alot of people here, is like the unchartered territories of the Hikurangi Trench in New Zealand. Where? I hear you say. Exactly.

Once you're at the station, you turn left at the exit, and the first thing you see is a group of about 100 London workers, happying the hour away. I stood there for about 10 minutes, waiting for my friends to arrive while enjoying the cold crisp air that was slowly freezing my ears off.

After 10 minutes, I knew what it felt like to be a post-box. People keep walking into you.

Anyway, moving swiftly on (like those people who kept walking into me), the restaurant is on the left of the bar (as you're looking at it). This is the extent of my directional skills. If, by chance, those 100 people don't happen to be at the bar as you exit the station, you might have to get a map.

St. Germain is a wine bar as well as a restaurant. What this means is that upon entering the restaurant, you first see alot of wine bottles, and alot of people having wine. This fact alone is enough to convince me that this is a wine bar.

The next thing you see is the restaurant. There are menus and candles, and the place is dimly lit. This fact alone is enough to convince me that this is a restaurant. I am further convinced when the waitresses come by to ask for my order.

There have been alot of comments in the London papers these days about the lack of service in London. Those people have obviously not been in this restaurant as the service is faultless. The waitresses are cheery, always smiling at you, and even when faced with 7 diners (the discount only allows 6 diners), they allowed us to use the discount vouchers, and that is good service in my books.

So, what's for starters?

I had raw moo-moo's with a bit of Melba toast. It was my first time eating steak tartare, and here's where my vast experience in food reviews come in handy.

It tastes like a Big Mac (raw version). Now this is in no way an insult to the chef, nor it is an unfavourable review of the food here. It's just the closest description I could come up with. The steak was very fresh, and very tasty, and I particularly liked the bits of gherkin chopped into the steak. The portion size was that of a main course, and I felt quite full by the time I was done with that.

Fried goats cheese

The other dish ordered was fried goats cheese. I'm not sure if I like that as much as I liked the steak tartare because it was just mushy cheese, fried.

Grilled plaice with prawns

This was my main meal, and the portion size was pleasing. A whole plaice, with some sauteed prawns on the top of it, accompanied by some frites. Where else better to try French Fries than in a French restaurant? Conclusion: Not much difference from other fries at all.

Poulet ... something?

Chicken stew, almost. Tasty, but on the dry side.

Oysters

Another friend ordered the oyster. When the waitress was setting the table, she placed what looked like a champagne holder thing, but with only the frames, if you can imagine that, on the table. For a while, we didn't know what this was. It was 1 foot high, as far as we could tell, had nothing in it.

Then the oysters came, and the plate was put on top of this holder thing. What was the purpose of that? Not a clue.

Creme brulee

Many of you would associate this dessert with French cuisine. That's where I stop and say,

'Vouz vouz trompez'

This should mean 'You are wrong', however, the online English-French translator came up with 'You are mistaken' instead. No choice here.

There is an English version of this dish called 'Cambridge Burnt Cream'. This was the dessert served in Trinity College, Cambridge and some are in the opinion that the French version of the dessert came after the English one.

Obviously, I don't know which one came first, so I don't have any opinions to add to this.

Jonathan Ross, Ricky Gervais and Gordon Ramsay

I saw them. Two rows from the front, from THAT desk, from THAT couch, from the floppy fringe.

I was given 2 tickets to go watch a recording of Friday Night with Jonathan Ross at the BBC studios (on a Thursday). For those of you who don't know what this programme is about (and thus why I am so excited), this is THE talk show host of the moment.

Unless, of course, you're in the US, which means it's probably Jay Leno or someone like that. Who knows.

But here, in London, Jonathan Ross is as awesome as ... shoulder pads were in the 80's. Yes, he is THAT awesome.

You know how purple hair and yellow eyeshadow were so 'it' in the 80's? Yes, Jonathan Ross is as 'it' as that.

The ticket said that they'd start letting the audience in at about 5.45pm. So I got there at 4.30pm, and there were about 90 people in front of me.

All of them were queuing, and it looked quite fun, so I joined in.

Those pesky BBC people spoiled the fun by letting us into the studios at about 5.45pm, but no worries, the fun continued in the cafe where we had more fun queuing up for the cakes and drinks.

Fun stopped for a bit when we found some seats and had the cakes (surprisingly good), and then the loudspeaker called us in to the actual recording studio.

'Will tickets number 1 to 50, please go towards the illuminated sunflowers.'

Cue rushing to the man with the clipboard, waving your tickets in his face.

Looks at ticket, number 90, back to the end of the queue, young lady.

'Will tickets number 50 to 100, please go towards the illuminated sunflowers'.

Cue more rushing to the man with the clipboard, waving tickets, this time saying

'That's us! That's us!'

We baa-ed our way like sheep towards the studio, one long queue of patient, (mostly) excited group of people, all staring intently at anyone going by, in hopes that we'd see some famous people.

Now, let's pause here for a second to define what it is that makes someone LOOK famous. I reckon if you go around town with tousled hair and sunglasses, you might look it.

The lead singer from Razorlight jazzed on by. Who? Indeed. But anyhow, being famous, we all stared. Stared him up the stairs, towards the door, stared him back down the stairs.

The queue were then led towards the seats where we were asked to sit in the second row (now, doesn't the opening sentence make so much more sense?)

It was quite surreal sitting there, looking at that sofa and the table. It looked pretty much like how it looks on telly, but just slightly smaller (our telly is quite big).

Then began the usual telly schmooze. The compere made some jokes, one guy told us when to clap, we all practiced looking pouty whenever the camera came to us, and we just buzzed. Really. It was just so buzzy in there, everyone was excited, and you could feel the buzz in the air. Buzz was everywhere.

I don't quite know how to describe it, but just imagine this. There were about 200 people all sitting in this studio, the layout was very much like that of a small cinema. The seats were the springy kind which would jump back into the upright position when you weren't sitting on it. The lighting was orangey, yellowish and mostly quite low-lit, except for the spot where the stage was. That bit was glowing bright with all the lights shining there. Everyone had huge grins, and all of them were looking straight ahead as though they were back in a classroom with the teacher in front. Some people were making sure their hair were OK, some just fiddling with their shirts, some were tapping their feet in excitement, and everyone was just very very excited and buzzing.

Jonathan Ross kinda glided into the room. Seriously, he had his arms stretched out to both sides, and ran a little and just glided on (you know, like how you're gliding when you pretend you're flying). He did it from the left of the room to the right, disappeared to the back of the stage, and came back and did it again from the right of the room to the left.

Sometimes you look at celebs on telly, and you think, surely they must be quite arrogant and nasty in real life. They're celebs, why should they be nice.

Jonathan Ross though, for the 2 hours that we were there, was as nice as you could ever imagine him to be. He was friendly, chatty and just effortlessly funny. I use that word because some people try to be funny, but just, kinda, can't. He is funny without even trying. Blink. Hahahahahah.
Convinced?

The first guest on was Ricky Gervais. When he walked on stage, that was quite weird.

(to be continued)

The pasta bake, the tofu, and the fish

motorway services

When you're on the motorway in England, and when you either a) want a burger, or b) require the use of the lavatory, you stop at what people here call a 'motorway service'. The food served here is also either a) very expensive, or b) ludicrously uninteresting, or c) why did I even stop here anyway?

If, for any reason (and there are so many), you don't want to pay the price of a small horse for a burger, there is another option of getting a steak bake from a convenience store in the service centre. It looks like this.

this is tasty

the steak bake looks like this

We took a drive from London to Wiltshire last weekend. It's officially autumn now.

This means that instead of 1 sunny day a month, there is now nil sunny day a month. It might also sometimes be windy, foggy and cold. This shouldn't stop you from putting on your shorts and sunnies though, because it's probably as hot as it's gonna get at least for another 12 months.

Went shopping in Swindon. There is a huge shopping centre where quite a few of the big brands have their outlet store. Some of them are actual bargains, while some of them put complex maths on their discount signs to fool you (in the word of Mr. T).

An example goes like this.

Buy one shirt of £25, or THREE for £100! BARGAIN!

There was a food court in the shopping outlet, and for a food court, it had quite a few good choices to choose from. I took a picture of Harry Ramsden (fish and chip chain) so that you'd have an idea of what it looks like.

this is what it looks like

this is what it sells. fish. and chips.

The KFC's here do meal deals. I had the Zinger Meal Deal which had 1 Zinger burger, 2 hot wings, 1 portion of baked beans, 1 small fries and 1 regular drink. All for one individual to consume in one meal. Champion.

winner

What I made for dinner:

in the oven, cooing 'eat meeeeee'

Ovens were made for pasta bakes. A pasta bake in an oven is like a grasshopper in a field of grass (happy and full of pasta). If you don't know what a pasta bake is (and that is highly likely unless you were a poor malnourished student in northern England), it is basically pasta that is mixed in a sauce (usually tomato based), mixed with tuna (usually in the bargain bin), mixed with onions, and mixed some more for good measure (because if you can't afford the ingredients, you just keep mixing). This is then baked (after quite alot of bargain cheese is sprinkled over the top).

When the pasta bake is out of the oven (chirping away), it looks like this.

this is the slightly more nutritional version

After being inspired by a restaurant in town serving mince over handmade noodles, I made mince over noodles. But with some added creativity, and tofu, it became Mapo Taufoo Noodles.

mapo tofu over noodles

It probably won't win any awards for looking too much like good food, but it is.

Portobello Market, London

Take your sleeping bag and some food if you're coming here.

It's about 10 miles long. OK, so that may not be a fact, but when I started at one end of the market, 2 hours later, I wasn't even 1/5 of the way to the other end.

How do I know this? Well well well my dear Watson. They have a map put up on the lamp posts telling you where you are in the 10(0) mile road, and I was at the top of the little 5-squared map.

How do I get there, I hear you ask?
Well, first, if you're somewhere in the middle of London, take the bus to Notting Hill.

try this bus, if you can't get on it, try the next bus

what about this bus?

or, what about this bus?

Once you're at Notting Hill station, there are signs to Portobello Market.

It looks like this.

you know you're there

You might also see this shop. If you do, and you don't like antiques, please, find the other end of the street.

so many people want to buy antiques

Some of the shops sold genuine antiques, like this one, selling antique globes, antique bowling balls, antique coat hangers, and all things antique. (Say 'antique' 20 times, it's a tongue twister)

how about a trophy? come on, you know you want this trophy

Now, call me a cynic, but I really doubt antique little decorations, little cute earring hangers and the like cost £3, and come in about 10 different colours?

£3 = US$5 = RM18 = S$ 9 = A$6

That might buy, on a conservative guess, 3 cocktail buns in the UK.

Thus: Antique earring hanger = 3 cocktail buns

My hasty conclusion here is that, these are not antiques. Which is fine by me, because I prefer them like this (mixing and matching colours is so much fun).

antiques sale

Going further down the road, you see more of these shops, some of them selling the same stuff.

Actually, on the way to the market (I know, I rushed to the good stuff) there was also this little shop selling lots and lots of metal signs, magnetic displays, just souvenir stuff. I wanted to get some, but there's only so much you can do with them (i.e. table mats, coasters, mousepads, somewhere for the cookie crumbs to fall).

no fridge? no worries, just use the frying pan

no place to put this? no worries, use it as a place mat

more people just wanting to buy antiques

The most interesting and I would say, important shop though, sells this.

cupcake

£2 for this little cuppy. It's worth it though.

Super duper awesome.