four seasons of roast duck goodness. oh yes, I could totally live with that

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roast duck with vegetables; sizzling bean curd with mixed seafood

I’ve been wanting to blog about Four Seasons and their roast duck for so long that you wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. I’ve been wanting to blog about them since before I even had a food blog (which is a little bit like before my life began really, isn’t it?) and in fact, they were one of the reasons for me starting a food blog, because I wanted to share all the awesomeness with every body.

What’s been the hold up? Well. The thing is. Every time we go to Four Seasons, we order the same thing. Roast duck. And I’ve been waiting ever so patiently all this time to “collect” more photos so I could share a little bit more of their menu… but sadly, I don’t even know what’s on the rest of the menu because I never even look. Ever.

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papa’s got a whole new beard: a vanilla cream puff Christmas

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beard_papa_01

Up until yesterday, I had no idea what a mammoth task it is to find a venue that served dinner on Christmas eve. I mean, that doesn’t sound hard, right? But wow, it appears the entire population of London hunkers down and shuts all semblance of trading after lunch on the 24th and hibernates (perhaps in preparation for the feasting planned for the 25th), re-opening again for a gargantuan Christmas lunch.

And all I want to do is have dinner out on Christmas eve.

I think it’s my punishment really, for not believing in Santa. And before I go on, if you do believe in Santa, please change the channel now because don’t say I didn’t warn you, coming up is the hugest spoiler alert in the history of big fat men.

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obsession. passion. vampires. wagyu: a regular night at Dinings Restaurant

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seared wagyu beef sushi with truffle salsa and ponzu jelly; wagyu beef tataki with ponzu sauce & porcini oil

I have been massively distracted lately. My one-track foodie brain has been occupied and while I am still able to ramble endlessly about  super awesome delicious cookie dough, I’m not really thinking about food. I’m thinking about one thing and one thing alone.

Eric Northman.

True Blood. Vampires. Eric goddamn-he’s-so-hot-can-I-bite-him-now Northman. Brooding. Emo. Nordic. Vampire. Need I say more?

This ridiculous pre-pubescent crush thang actually worries me a little, because the last time I was this obsessive about a fictional character, it was Edward Cullen, and he too is a vampire. This trend doesn’t bode well for me as a juicy little human person and while I’d just as easily say “oh Eric bite me now! Make me vampire!” I’m glad my instincts are stronger than my focus and if, if, Eric were to bite me (usually in the throes of passion too, which I’m guessing makes it that much harder to say no… oh my mum reads this blog ~ Hi mum!) I’m sure I would snap right out of under his spell and realise that OMG. Vampires. They don’t eat food. FOOD.

Foooooood!

And just like that, my fling with Eric would be totally over. And my laser focus would be back on food, where it rightly resides.

Speaking of which…!

Damn near obsession material is Dinings Restaurant, especially their seared wagyu beef sushi with truffle salsa and ponzu jelly. This heavenly little piece of sushi don’t come cheap, but amidst the throes of sushi passion, we ordered it again. And again. And again. Four times, in fact.

And it’s not just the wagyu sushi, dining @ Dinings as a whole is… orgasmic.

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dough a deer, a brilliant idea: the only choc chip cookie recipe you’ll ever need

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choc chip cookies

I think it goes without saying that the power of uncooked cookie dough is vastly under-rated in the world of consumer behaviour. How its floury, grainy, brown sugary texture feels pressed hard up against my mouth.. {shudder} I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.

Add to that a complete over estimation of chocolate chips and the cookie dough truly becomes a source to be reckoned with.

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ladies that do brunch: baby Emmerson’s day out at Giraffe

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Giraffe restaurant at Southbank

Three months ago, my friend Khrystyne and I had brunch at Giraffe on London’s Southbank. She was a billion weeks pregnant and massively swollen, which I thought was incredibly cute but Khrystyne wasn’t really a fan.

Brunch was brilliant as usual as we sat in the warm(ish) London sunshine, drinking our hippy hippy shakes. When I got home after lunch – and you can totally picture this I’m sure – I launched for my netbook, wiggled my mouse and impatiently waited for the screen to wake up, so that I could tweet (yes, I really am that sad, whether you believe it or not is up to you).

Anyway, I tweeted something about a fabulous brunch and so glad my very pregnant friend didn’t pop on me. Giraffe promptly tweeted back and said when she did eventually pop, why don’t we bring bub down for another lovely brunch?

And so we did.

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