Now it is only fair for all of us, if I now tell you my fatal flaw.
I am a vegetarian.
I know already that most of you have clicked the little x or alt F4'd this page to oblivion. For those of you brave enough to continue reading, I can only apologise. I am too much of a softy, to eat meat. I'm not an in your face, hessian pubed, militant veggie. I just don't like killing things for my pleasure, be it sustenance or sexual. All I can offer in my plea for clemency, is that I bloody love food and I am not prepared to accept, that not eating meat has to equate, to scoffing fibrous, Guardian soaked, bean cakes.
My good lady and I, are both lecturers for two different colleges. She teaches art and I teach music production. Fortunately for both of us, the English have become a race, that quite literally grinds to a halt, at the first sighting of a hail stone and so on a crisp, winter's afternoon, we found ourselves sent home from our respective places of work and seizing the opportunity to go out for some food, spared little thought, for those poor sods who have proper jobs, that would not tolerate a full day of inactivity due to some frozen water.
We live in North Shields, which is a couple of minutes icy drive away, from the delightful to visit, but fuck me, it must be awful to live there, coastal village of Tynemouth.
Tynemouth, for those of you who are not familiar with it, is just like the bawdy, hen and stag hell of Whitley Bay a couple of miles down the sea front, with the slight difference being, that Tynemouth's 8 pint rapists and cock hungry harridans, may have once brushed up against a library book in a public school.
After a few moments and a pint of bitter, searching for somewhere decent to eat lunch, we settled on Brasserie 1883.
I'm not sure if I'll ever do another blog entry, let alone come up with a format for this nonsense, so for potentially the first and last time, here is a proper course by course et al review of the meal what I ate.
Brasserie 1883.
Formally Sidney's, this lovely little brasserie "serves globally inspired food with cosmopolitan style and flavours". Our waiter/front of house maestro/manager Charlie later told us, that the brasserie is owned by the same folk who run the ponce-tastic Fisherman's Lodge in Newcastle. An informal chat revealed that the brasserie is undergoing something of a subtle relaunch, after a fatal combination of high prices and young, beautiful but useless staff left the tables bare.
Decor/anything other than food and wine
A small ground level room with room for around 25 diners, decorated in the usual neutral colours and simple furniture, designed specifically to offend nobody. The menu and wine list were printed in an elegant font on simple white paper. Cutlery and tableware was classic elegant fare, no wobbly lines, sharp angles or coked up design. Points lost for paper rather than cotton napkins but points gained for thin glassware, that I could make sing with a wet finger. The current trend for appalling, expensive artwork for sale was in full effect. Shit art highlight, goes to the Latino dancer, in a pose that I assume was meant to evoke sultry nights of passion, but instead looked like a bored sweaty lass, simultaneously stroking a tit and a buttock. How do people make two grand oil paintings look so bloody dull?
Starter
Black truffle and tomato salad with a Parmesan crust
An interestingly presented salad, is a rare thing. Normally it's all about the many leaves providing a barely noticed nest, on which the expensive stuff is laid. This was a bold departure. Four, count them. Four leaves, placed around a towering disk of chopped tomato, topped with a crunchy crust and a generous serving of black truffle.
This was the opposite to the Wintry weather outside. A burst of fresh summer through the tomato and damp autumnal forest floor from the truffle, ably bonded, thanks to the crunch and punch of the Parmesan crust. Mine and the wife's inquisitive nosiness got the better of us and I (she won't say boo to a goose) had to ask what the dressing was, that was giving the chopped tomato such energy. I guessed white wine vinegar, she guessed basil oil and night on the sofa for either one of us was prevented, when Charlie informed us it was a white wine vinegar and basil oil vinaigrette.
Main Course
Wild mushroom risotto
As a vegetarian, I get used to a seemingly endless parade, of rubbish risottos, from chefs who can't be arsed, to even provide an afterthought for us gay-lords. When ordering I was a bit peeved that the only meat free main, was a wild mushroom risotto, but the quality of the starter had built my hopes up. I wasn't disappointed.
Even if I had just picked out the mushrooms, this would have been worth the price. They were everything a good mushroom should be, complex, earthy and mysterious. The rice was well cooked and the stock was rich, without being heavy. Hidden out of sight within the dish were some wilted tender greens (I was proven correctly, to have guessed these as savoy cabbage (Charlie was either a gentle liar or my taste buds were enjoying the day off work)) that provided welcome respite from the umami overload of the stock and cheese crust disks. This was proper good food. The kind of food that makes you tilt your chair back on two legs and make audible grunts and gasps of enjoyment.
Pudding
Crème brûlée with honey roast pineapple
Wine
Australian (I think, damn you camera phone) Cabernet Shiraz
I wont lie to you. I know more about drinking wine than I do about choosing it. This was lovely, it slightly overpowered the tomato salad but was brilliant with the risotto. I picked it mainly to go with the wife's Lamb main course and she seemed to enjoy it, but she buys wine on price alone, so she can't be trusted.
Conclusion
A fantastic meal due to a combination of a cheeky day off work, fantastic food, a lovely wife and brilliant service. A special mention for Charlie who was everything you'd want from a waiter/manager. Discrete when required to be and good craic when the wife went to the toilet. Some excellent post meal banter regarding motorbikes and dying in the throes of passion. Quite simply he was the reason that tipping good service is essential. Some people add far more than 10% to a meal, you owe them at least that to say thanks.
Total Cost (I've just been told most people want to know this information)
3 Courses for me, two for her and a bottle of wine for the bargain price of £50.10
The wife, Charlie and shit art, in a photo that in no way, was staged or posed.
