Ever since I heard about 'food designers' Blanch and Shock, I've been wanting to sample their culinary creations. However, despite being on their mailing list for ages, I've never managed to get to any of the events that they've organised or been part of. Luckily, this month they have a 4-week residency in the kitchen of The Endurance pub in Soho. Having been intrigued by the menu of small plates advertised on their website, I hurried down to Berwick street last week with a friend. The pub was pretty empty, but the meal we had was so interesting and delicious that I found myself back there today, alone this time, eager for round two. Today's grub was equally as good, despite the place being much busier than on my 1st visit. It's about time, then, that I got my finger out and wrote about it.
Although Blanch and Shock do not make it themselves they have managed to find the best sourdough that I can remember eating. The butter, on the other hand, is made in house. It is cultured and then churned freshly each day before service. Flavoursome and mousse-like in its lightness, I piled great, greedy globs of it onto the robust and springy bread. When the bread and butter served for free at the beginning of a meal are as good as this, you know you're in for a treat with the rest of the courses. (Incidentally the credit for the bread must go the genius bakers at St. John.)
The menu takes the now familiar shape of 'small plates'. It is split into light appetisers and then slightly larger veg, meat and fish dishes with a few puds at the end. The dishes are just about big enough to share but I confess I was glad to get them all to myself today. Prices are scarily reasonable - appetisers for about £2 and larger dishes for £4-7; it took a fair bit of self restraint not to shout 'bring me one of everything!' when the waitress came to take the order!
Chicken skins with red gooseberry powder did exactly what an appetiser is supposed to do. The crispy skins were like 'chicken scratchings' - very moreish - and the powder was sort of like a British version of sumac; the fruity tang cutting through the chicken fat and making our mouths water.
Salty, fishy cod's roe was served with sponges made with nitrogen in the microwave (this was explained to me, but I can't remember the details). The sponges had a texture much akin to those used in the bath - or I suppose, more to the point, those found in the sea - they were perfect for mopping up the roe and the dusting of sea lettuce power which added to the marine flavour.
A simple salad of raw and cooked courgette with fennel was brought alive by a sharp lemon dressing and the addition of roasted spelt grains. The flavours were fresh and clean and the combination of crunchy and soft elements was delightful.
We ordered English tomatoes with miso-soaked prunes and nasturtiums simply because we couldn't imagine what it would be like. Happily the unusual combination turned out to be a good one - sweet umami flavour from the prunes (which had been steeped in a miso stock) paired well with crisp and fruity tomatoes. The nasturtium leaves had a peppery, slightly sour flavour which added an extra dimension to the plate as well as the joy of coming across an ingredient totally new to me.
Pork belly had been cooked for 17 hours sous vide - it was tender, but retained its meaty texture. The pork had been seasoned quite conservatively but its piggy flavour stood up well to the salty, barbecuey smoked plum sauce. The puffed pork skin sprinkled on top had the texture of Rice Krispies and blackened little gem lettuce worked well as an accompaniment.
One of my favourite dishes was grilled ox heart with parsley sauce, green peppercorns and capers. The ferric tang of the verdant parsley pureé was mirrored in the flavour of the meat. The heart had the expected offaly edge, but was less 'livery' and more steaky than heart I've eaten before. This may have been because it was served quite rare. One of the chefs, Mike, asked me during my 1st visit if I thought the heart should be served this way, or cooked a little longer, to medium. At the time I said that it was great as it was but, having eaten it again today, I think (as he did) that it would perhaps be better with a minute or two more under the grill. Regardless of personal preferences about the cooking of the meat, the combination of flavours was spot on in this dish and there was something deeply satisfying about tucking into a thick piece of heart muscle!
Underneath the crispy, sticky, smokey exterior of this pork rib lay meat that was so melting that I could literally suck it of the bone: it was gone in a finger-licking instant and I wished I had a plate piled high with them rather than just the one. It did only cost £2.50 - so I could hardly complain. Blanch and Shock could make millions bottling and selling the smoked tomato sauce they served with the rib - I'd part with one of my kidneys for the recipe it was so delicious! Somehow I managed not to pick up the plate and lick it. Luckily I had managed to save some bread and I set about cleaning up every last drop with the fervour usually reserved for those with OCD.
Salt-cured bream reminded me of the herring I had from a stall in Amsterdam. The flesh was firm and smooth and the absence of vinegar in the cure allowed the real flavour of the fish to dominate.
A judicious scattering of pickled radishes and peppery watercress complimented the fish and made for a very pretty plate.
The most challenging dish I tried was beetroots cooked in embers with gooseberries. The sweet, earthy beets and sharp, juicy berries played off each other nicely, but there was another flavour coming from the green stripe painted across the plate and a few torn leaves strewn on top. At first this made me grimace - it was herby and bitter and I didn't like it. Moments later, once my tastebuds had become accustomed, I found myself zooming bits of beetroot around the plate to pick up as much of the green sauce as I could. It had a flavour similar to celery and fenugreek and it grew on me rapidly. Apparently, it was lovage - another new ingredient for me.
Little sugar-dusted brioche doughnuts were well made and lovely when dipped in gooseberry sauce but thy weren't terribly interesting in relation to the other things on the menu.
As with the ox heart, I ordered the Hay and Malt tart both times. Last week it was served with macerated strawberries and lime blossom. The dark-brown pastry contained roasted barley malt, which gave it a rich almost Guiness-like flavour. The filling was creamy and redolent of hay - a delicate but very pleasant flavour. Apparently they roast and grind the hay freshly each day to flavour the cream with. When I spoke to the chef, he didn't seem entirely happy with the execution of the tart - in his words, the cream and the base seemed to be 'having an argument' and indeed there was a bit of marbling when I looked closely. By today, they had perfected it - the filling was pale and uniform and had the just-set consistency that melts on the tongue. The strawberries remained, but the lime blossom (which was pretty but had little flavour) had been replaced with tiny mint leaves - an improvement.
As you can see, I am struggling to find much to criticise about the Blanch and Shock experience. The food was surprising, fun, sometimes challenging and above all delicious. You can tell by the way the chefs and the waitresses collect feedback from the diners and make little adjustments that they care very much about producing the best food they can. There was hardly a foot put wrong in any dish I tasted - no mean feat given their experimental style and ever-changing menu - and in the best of the dishes, they achieved the goal of all food-alchemists - creating something that it much more than the sum of its parts.
The Endurance provides a great setting for this kind of food - it's relaxed but quirky and with gold flock wallpaper and stuffed animal heads it clearly doesn't take itself too seriously. The staff were fun and friendly and happy to talk enthusiastically and knowledgeably about the food.
Enough food to fill 2 of us came to £45 with soft drinks. Food for me today with a glass of wine, came to £25. I can think of far too many places where I have paid a lot more money for a lot less exciting and accomplished food recently!
Blanch and Shock describe themselves as a design studio and catering company. Their interests lie not only in cooking, but in 'gastronomy' in a broader sense - the choosing and sourcing of ingredients, the application of gastro-tech to make the best of the produce and the psychology and theatre involved with eating. The skeptics amongst you might say that all this use of hay, smoke, dehydrators and waterbaths etc. is a little too achingly trendy and gratuitous. Had I not tasted the products, I might have agreed but in contrast to many chefs employing such methods these guys use technology and unusual flavours sagaciously and to very good effect: every element of every dish is there for a reason.
The residency at The Endurance runs until 1st September and details of the menu are released daily on their twitter feed. Also, each Saturday evening they will be cooking tasting menus inspired, in turn, by North, East, South and West. Sadly, I gather that they don't have any plans to open a permanent eatery, but will be popping up regularly here and there to surprise us with new things!
Something tells me I will be back for more before the end of the month!
The Endurance Pub
90, Berwick Street,
Soho, London.
W1F 0QB
