Necessity is the Mother of Invention Tests

Now without wanting to come over all new age hippy, Mr Beedub and I have started to become more conscious of minimizing food waste and trying to use up what we have before we head off to Saino's in search of new ingredients. Also I am just plain lazy.

From experience, this can go one of two ways. Dogs dinner.  Or if you are lucky, MasterChef* Invention Test Boom.

I have also learned that sometimes you are in the mood to be creative and sometimes you are just forced to be. For example:

Today I woke up after a tough work week and really felt like making breakfast. I dug up a few of my favourite books for inspiration and got quite excited about a couple of recipes for Shaksuka - a saucy egg breakfast, Tunisian in origin.

Sadly when I opened the fridge, it was not brimming with fresh tomatoes or peppers as I had hoped and as I was most definitely not up for removing my pajamas and heading to the shop, Shaksuka was not to be. I did, however, spot a lonely half tub of buttermilk cowering at the back waiting for the old heave ho and decided to take pity on it.

The third invention test nugget I am going to share with you is my personal favourite and is as fun as the cooking bit. It is learning the art of typing random things into Google like: "what can I make with pickled onions, yoghurt and celery". This may surprise you, but my old search buddy has never let me down. There is genuinely always a random person somewhere on the planet, who has not only created a recipe using your fridge rejects, but bothered to post in on the tinternet to boot.

With this in the back of my mind, I was filled with quiet confidence that something as lush as buttermilk would be a no brainer. The first thing that my search threw up was page after page of American style buttermilk biscuits and gravy. They looked too much like scones to me and I couldn't reconcile my self with a creamy meaty sauce for breakfast so I moved on.

Serendipity stepped in and the very next thing I found was John Torode's Buttermilk Pancakes on BBC Food (my fourth tip for creating something from nothing - the Beeb has the best recipes on the net by far).

How could that not be a sign when a recipe from the Yoda of Invention Tests shows up right? 

I am not planning rehash the recipe here as a. that's theft and b. it's boring so instead, here's the recipe from the man himself

John Torode's Buttermilk Pancake Recipe

And a few photos to prove that even a kitchen clutz can make these.

Finally a here few observations after making these bad boys.

You can halve the quantity if you don't have enough of one thing. Don't play with the proportions though. I was a bit short on buttermilk and thought I would be clever and use a bit more butter instead - not smart it made them too oily.

This is a bit different to standard pancake recipes I have made in the past. The batter develops into exciting bubbly alchemy which spooked me at first so I wasn't quite sure how to work with it, but stay calm people, they  do turn out well in the end.

Even in the quest for saving the planet and thriftiness, throw out expired bicarb!

All the cook books tell you this, but I have now learned this first hand. Having a good larder (or cupboard above the sink if you like) of great staples like plain and self raising flour, caster sugar, baking powder, bicarb and vanilla essence will stand you in excellent stead for whipping up some very good breakfast staples in emergencies.

Always, always have eggs in the house and buy more bacon than you need and freeze it. It will literally make you shout with joy when you unexpectedly find a pack of rashers hiding behind the half eaten Ben & Jerry's whilst foraging for breakfast food.

 So there you go, from buttermilk to badass breakfast in three easy clicks.

*There are two British cooking shows that have changed my life. MasterChef and The Great British Bake Off. Before I started watching them, I had no idea what samphire was and I didn't own a spatula, much less a springform baking tin. I now do, but can attest to the fact that it isn't really possible to use all three at once. 

You win some, You lose some

I like to think that the great explorers didn't hit the jackpot every time they set off in their wooden ships to discover the New World. There is a reason Tristão d'Acunha never made it to school history books, whilst his country man Vasco da Gama did: realistically, who wants to be the bloke who found the most remote, desolate place on earth?

Likewise, on my Sunday sorties to find Eggtopia, it would be safe to say it ain't always plain sailing either.Today was one such day.

To be fair, it did start well. I had a game plan and quest to sample the delights of Goode and Wright in Notting Hill. I may possibly have made my first schoolgirl error by optimistically strolling in there after the bells of St Peter's had chimed 12. Needless to say, in spite of there being three empty tables, none of them were be destined to be ours. They were reserved for much more organized people who booked in advance (who books in advance? On a Sunday??). To add insult to injury one of them was covered in trays of chopdribblyumptious pastries. So not fair.

I am nothing if not resourceful and so to my Plan B we headed - the Electric Diner. 
Game show buzzer sounds at this point. Sorry for you, lazy late sleepers with no ability to plan in advance, you do not win the prize of a cozy booth with gorgeous Waffley things, instead you win the choice of A. Starbucks Breakfast or B. a revolting breakfast in a place just down the road.

Such sadness. The food in in said place down the road was so bad, I couldn't eat it. Yes, even Beedub, who would eat crickets dipped in amazon mud if hungry, was defeated. Luckily as I am not a Jodi Piccoult fan and favour happy uplifting stories, I couldn't let the Sunday end with nasty congealed egg and soggy parma ham and so dragged Mr Beedbub back up Portabello road to find something crispy and loaded with sugar.

Pressing my nose on Goode and Wright's window (and possibly begging for crumbs off tables) started to embarrass Mr Beedub and just as he was dragging me away, we spotted L'Epicerie By Jimmy. Next door.


It looks like a random little pop up bakery. And it kind of is. As you walk in, there are buttery, cheesy, cakey smells wafting from a gingham clad table nestling below a cheery Self Service sign.

My sweet tooth started throbbing at the sight of the Pistacchio croissants, but it was a real battle between sweet and savoury as the Bechamel, Pesto, Mushroom & Truffle Oil Tartine smelt heavenly too.

Apparently it's all self service there and you can pick and go or find a quirky corner to eat there. We picked up a coffee for Mr Beedub too as he was worn out from the breakfast search drama. They serve Monmouth and they service it strong. He is still running up and down the street as I write this.



If you are looking for a leisurely, opulent Sunday brunch, then this isn't your place, but if you happen to love the buzz of Portabello on a Sunday, but really can't be arsed to get up early or book, then this fun little place full of french fancy could definitely save the day.

L'Epicerie By Jimmy
273 Portobello Road
Notting Hill
Website and Menu
How To Get There

In search of Egg Laying Woolly Pigs...

So having worked with Germans and Austrians for a long  time, I have developed a love of all things Germanic. If I had to pick favourites, it would probably come down to (and in no particular order) German idioms and Austrian breakfasts.

Which other nationalities have the linguistic limbleness to not only achieve in two words what English would take a paragraph to describe, but to crack it in a way that simply isn't possible in Her Majesty's idiom?

Exhibit A: "eierlegende vollmilchsäue"

Literally translated "An egg laying, milk producing, woolly pig."

Common meaning "A jack of all trades. Someone who can literally do anything."

Now not only is this one of my favourite German idioms, but it also allows me a bit of poetic license to lead on to my second favourite thing to come out of Middle Europe. Tenuous I know, but what's not to love about the idea of a mythical beast that could provide you with a full monty breakfast?

The same is true of an Austrian breakfast. There is a well balanced symmetry to dawn dining in the country that brought us sachertorte, schnitzel and other culinary delights you just don't find outside of Europe.

Added to that, there is simplicity -  no fannying about with fancy sauces and griddle pans, which I love. It's no secret that I am a sucker for rich, elaborate breakfasts, but there are some days when the basics, done perfectly, are just what you feel like.

A recent blog entry written in Innsbruck, Austria, waxed lyrical about the growing creativity to be found breakfasting in Austria's larger cities. I experienced a real pang writing that because I genuinely miss the efficiency of a breakfast that tastes great, but doesn't exhaust you with too many choices. Plus did I mention the coffee? And that you can eat cake, yes people, CAKE for breakfast...

Finally, in my usual rambling way, I get to the point: with a little bit of help from an Austrian friend, it turns out that a true Austrian breakfast, served in a way only the Viennese understand, is very much alive, well and brewing in London.

Enter Kipferl. Austrian born and bred twin eateries, one in Nottinghill/Kensigton and the other in Islington. If you know London at all, you are probably familiar with Goldborne Road. If not, it is the lesser known cousin of Portabello road, a cheeky cornucopia of antique funk. 

Now I have been there more times than I have fingers, but somehow have managed to miss Kipferl until today. I think it's because its slightly innocuous black facade is easily overpowered by the colourful pavement melee that starts to wake up at 12 on a Sunday. When you get there at 10am, however, most shutters are still down and the traders haven't begun to take over the pavements.

What heaven! Unlike its famous neighbour Pizza East, Kipferl isn't heaving at that time of day. You have plenty of peace and quiet to catch up and enjoy the fact that the staff are actually Austrian. Thankfully though they are a London friendly version of traditional Viennese service. If you've been to Vienna you'll know what I mean - not for the faint hearted!

The breakfast menu is small and authentically Austrian. We chose the Viennese Breakfast, topped up with an additional Eier Zwei. Quintessentially what Austrians do well: bread, ham, cheese and egg. But that doesn't do it justice at all. We aren't talking just any bread, we are talking semmel: crunchy, golden rolls with gloriously soft, yummy centres. And rye that is dark and deliciously exotic. Hell, even the ham tastes like it has been smoking gently in a barn in the mountains somewhere.

It's not cheap, but then nowhere in London really is anymore and Kipferl gets away with it because they use excellent, fresh ingredients, they know how to serve the perfect soft boiled egg and their coffee is beyond tasty, served with Viennese flair. Translated that means on a silver tray accompanied by elegant glasses of water and melt in the mouth chocolates.

I would definitely recommend a visit to Kipferl West's Islington sister too as they appear to have a slightly bigger menu with a few dishes that have piqued my curiosity. With the Austrian skill with all things bread, how could their version of French toast be anything other than lush?

Kipferl
95 Golborne Road, 
London
W10 5NL
Website and Menu
How to Get There