But on this one I'm definitely tooting. Maybe because it's kind of a surprise, not in my usual play book. I'm gonna tell you right now, it's banana cake. Those words kind of make me a little nauseous, to tell you the truth. But I'm not done. It's more like an Elvis special. And it all started with some very mature bananas at work that were going to have to be thrown out. So I got to town making banana bread and then banana cake. And to make it bearable (and by bearable I mean amazingly rich and dreamy), I layered it with chocolate ganache and iced it with peanut butter frosting.
I am a sucker for peanut butter and bananas, and chocolate and peanut butter (or chocolate and anything), but for some reason, a dessert of banana cake falls to the bottom of my list. But it ended up being some of the moistest cake, on its own, that I've made. And dressed up with heavy chocolate ganache and some salty, whipped, peanut butter frosting, it's hard not to like this cake.
So toot toot.
Banana Cake with Chocolate Ganache and Peanut Butter Frosting
banana cake
2 ¼ c flour
¾ tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 c (4) very ripe bananas bananas
¼ c buttermilk
1 tsp vanilla
2 stick butter
1 1/3 c sugar
2 eggs
Preheat an oven to 350F. Grease and one 9” springform pan or two 8” rounds (the first will provide three layers, the second four). With the butter at room temperature, cream it with the sugar. Mix together the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, mush up the bananas and then add other wet ingredients, mixing everything well. Then add to the dry ingredients and incorporate everything, including the butter and sugar mixture. Pour into the pans and bake until a toothpick comes up just about dry, about 20-30 minutes. Let cool and then remove from pans. If you are using one pan, cut with a serrated knife into three portions. If you have used two pans, cut each in half.
chocolate ganache
1 ½ c heavy cream
1 lb good dark chocolate
Bring the cream to a simmer over the stove. When it’s just under a boil, remove from heat and stir in chocolate, until it’s completely melted. After you have cut the cakes and they have cooled, frost each layer with the ganache and stack.
peanut butter frosting
1 c creamy peanut butter
3 Tbsp butter, room temperature
2/3 c powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
pinch of salt
In an electric mixer, cream the butter and peanut butter together. On a low speed, at the powdered sugar a little at a time, and the vanilla and salt, until everything is mixed well. Taste and make sure you like the flavor. You can always tweak by adding more sugar or peanut butter. Your cake should be stacked now and layered with ganache. When you have the frosting ready, simply take a spatula and ice the outside of the cake. Now dig in.
P.S. This cake freezes very well, just defrost it and let it come to room temperature, or if you’re eating slice by slice, pop it in the microwave.
This crostini, or good stuff on toast, was sort of thrown together at the last minute, but with some really great ingredients. I pulled whatever we had out of the fridge, and in this case it ended up being ricotta and pecorino romano (love its saltiness), then grilled some asparagus, and picked some fresh mint to sprinkle along with a bit of dried red pepper and a drizzle of olive oil. Completely do-able and delicious. Oh, and having sunflower seed bread to throw on the grill doesn't hurt either. 
That night we went to a place that D liked and insisted on at some point, Tom Ilic, south of the river. Each dish was comprised of many bits and pieces, one standout was a single pea and ricotta tortellino. It was served with pea puree, pork belly, and a scallop wrapped in pancetta. 
And no, I didn’t take notes, but I do have a cheat sheet. The menu is up on the website, so you’ll get a more detailed description of each picture. So that was my starter, and I was very happy I had selected it. We also had some sort of study in tomato and goat cheese, the menu reads “hazelnut crusted goat cheese, tomato and pesto terrine, toasted brioche, and roasted red onion.” 
Mouths mine drop in shock that I didn’t immediately go for this, but who knows, maybe my taste is evolving past goat cheese, hazelnut, and pesto. The third starter was sautéed veal sweetbreads, boudin blanc, and truffled baby artichoke salad. 
We’ll get to my thoughts on sweetbreads at a later restaurant, but for now, on with Tom Ilic. Oh, and I must interject, I had my first bottle of Carmenere here, which my two dining companions absolutely love and went on and on about, so thanks for introducing me to it. For my main, I had filet of Kettyle beef and braised oxtail raviolo, horseradish soufflé, roast bone marrow, and spring onion vegetables. 
I think mine was best again, the beef and raviolo were great, but the soufflé was a bit too done on top (you might be able to see from the picture), and my palette has not yet reached the heights of bone marrow…my companions gladly accepted my donation, though. There was trio of lamb to be had: saddle, cutlet, and slow cooked shoulder, gratin dauphinoise, broad beans, and minted pesto.
I know the lamb’s the main part, but I loved the beans. You always hear about English peas and beans, don’t you? 
There was some delicious mash in this combo. To ring in dessert, I think I got a glass of Port, which is not my usual, but I enjoyed it. Dessert is the one thing I regret about Tom Ilic. They had a chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream, which is a match made in heaven, but you had to wait 15 minutes, so we decided against it. But we ended up staying longer than that anyway, closing down the restaurant and making friends with the maitre d'. Instead of chocolate, we went with white chocolate and mascarpone cheesecake, strawberries, and black pepper ice cream. 
Loved the ice cream, don’t really remember the other two. We also had poached rhubarb (I always hear about English rhubarb, also), ginger crème brulee, and a madeleine. 
This is where Tom Ilic lets me down. Grainy crème brulee. And I know it’s not too hard to do; I can make crème brulee. I would expect smooth, creamy perfection, but it was not. I was not left with a sour taste in my mouth because of this, I would still go back, it was great, but I wish I’d gone with the chocolate and pistachio.
I had Dover sole with samphire and brown shrimp. 
The sole was great, tender and not over-cooked, great flavor (I’ll try and ignore the fact that there were two roe sacks in her). The brown shrimp, which I just liken to popcorn shrimp, but not battered or fried, were also great. Apparently brown shrimp is a kind of shrimp, not just like tiny popcorn shrimp that we have here. And the samphire is one of my new favorite things, had never even heard of it until I was there, and since I’ve been back, I’ve seen it two different places here in Austin, one of them being a local farm. But we call it sea beans or something crazy like that. Anyways, it’s slightly salty and got a nice crunch to it. I loved it. 
Now, one of my requests (actually, demands) for London was Indian food. D had a place out in Whitechapel, whatever that means. All I know is that it’s where the biggest mosque in London is, and we were the minority on the street. Good signs if you’re heading for ethnic food. I was warned before that this is strictly Punjab, meaning it’s north and like a mix of Indian and Pakistani, oh, and no rice (they have it, but someone wouldn’t let us order it). Fine by me, as long as it’s good. We walked in and there was a line, the restaurant had expanded the last time D was there, and every table was full. There was also a dessert counter, full of stuff I had seen in the Raval, and some stuff I hadn’t seen, like pistachio barfi (which sadly, I never got to try as the Barça v. Manchester game pressed on). After not too long a wait, we squeezed into a table in the corner and popped open our wine (byob is never a bad thing). There were four of us, and we had a feast, so forgive me if I can’t remember everything, or if my list seems a little excessive. 
There was Dry Meat (can’t forget a name like that, but ironically it’s not dry and is quite delicious), Mughal Korma, Karahi Dhal Tarka, perhaps?, and maybe some sort of Gosht, tandoori, as well as tons of roti and naan. I’m not an expert on Indian food (if you give a Mexican menu, that’s a different story. Mexican is to Texans as Indian is to Brits, so I didn’t do much of the ordering). One thing I do know is that I love korma. A creamy, coconut milky, almondy, rich korma over rice or chapati or what have you. This korma was like nothing I’d had before. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a pale, sandy colored korma. It was dark meat with little sauce. Still good, but a new taste for me. I did like Tayyab’s though, and the line was a testament to the faithful crowds that line up for loads of Punjab cuisine. 
I went for a rum drink because I’m picky about my liquor. I do pretty much do rum and tequila and rarely stray. D went straight for a molecular Manhattan, which came out with a jello shot of bourbon in the middle. 
Enjoyable enough, but not my thing. After this, we got talking to the owner about drinks, turns out he doesn’t drink. This is still something I find absolutely amazing, to be mixing drinks like this, making up new ones, and to not drink them. After the first round, we told him what we liked or what we had in mind, and he came back with some off the menu items. This was where the best drink of the night came in. Ready for breakfast? You bet. Prepared tableside, bacon infused bourbon was poured into a glass and then lit on fire, and then an egg was cracked, and poured in, and all stirred together.
Really wonderful. We were told later it was some sort of egg liqueur, but weren’t given the secrets of the bacon bourbon. Next came a drink that was created for some artist whose only request was a ‘crying tree.’ Out came a giant hunk of tree branch with a glass attached, and a curled piece of bark sticking out of the drink. I remember gin and honey, which I think sounds like tears from wood in the form of alcohol, no? Although an interesting presentation, it was too sweet (for D. I don’t do gin). 
The last in the series ended up being a lot better than I thought. It was lavender crème brulee. Now, I love the sound of that, and I had looked at it on the menu, but it was made with lavender vodka, which I thought I did not love. I thought wrong. It was a creamy mixture, probably involving that same egg cream liqueur, lavender vodka, and a big crispy chunk of burnt sugar, topping off the drink as if it were a dessert. 
Great way to end the evening. 
but my company insisted on tongue (I did not try) and sweetbreads. 
Behold, my first sweetbread (oh, and this is the one thing I didn't get a picture of). My sister goes on about them. D and his whole family go on about them, so I figured, I must be missing out. And if I’m gonna do offal, St. John is the place to do it. I can say with all honesty, I am not missing out. I’m not sure what everyone tastes that I don’t, but I didn’t think they were great. I passed on the tongue. I had my fill of odd body parts for one lunch. One of the standouts for me was the dark horse, a skate salad with tomatoes. 
Can’t explain why, but it was just plain delicious. We also got some John Dory with sea purslane (I’m told it was somewhat similar to samphire, but I prefer samphire).
Then there was squab and finally dessert.
As far as I’m concerned, we could’ve done without dessert…not trying to offend anyone. But Eccles cake and Lancashire cheese is more like a snack than a rich, sugar-packed cap to a meal. 
We also got something that was called ‘buttermilk pudding’ which I equated to a buttermilk pie I’ve made, but ended up being more like panna cotta, which I do love. 
After lunch, I was led into a dark, dimly-lit cave and forced to drink giant glassfuls of Madeira. I was told this place was called Gordon’s, and that I enjoyed it, but I’ll have to take someone else’s word for it…
The final foodie stop in London before we left the next morning was Borough Market. Much like peas, rhubarb, Neal’s Yard, and St. John, this is another thing I’ve heard so much about. They even do an exchange once a year with the Boqueria in Barcelona, so I’d seen a few of the meat pies they had to offer. While we walked around, we got a mixed meat butty, complete with sausage, bacon, and English mustard. And butty is so much more fun to say than sandwich. 
The problem with my $3.24 book from Thrift Town is that there's an accompanying recipe booklet that has recipes not included in the actual book, and of course, this was not to be found at Thrift Town. I was still delighted with my purchase, and it had all the integral recipes as far as I could tell (mattar pannir, korma). You can order them from Amazon, but it costs more than my book. I decided to hold off, and I was on a mission to keep my eyes open at any chance I might have of encountering more books or recipe booklets. I got lucky one day in San Francisco and happened upon this little store called Cookin' that carries new and used cooking tools, supplies, cookware, books, just about anything relevant to the kitchen. And out of all the books, they had my Cooking of India recipe book for six dollars. Since then, I've seen different ones around new and used book stores, I'm tempted to get The Cooking of China, but first an Indian feast was in order. 
If the machine clogs and stops, turn it off, stir the spices once or twice, then continue blending. As each cupful of spices is ground, transfer it to a jar or bottle with a tightly fitting lid. 
Place the cheese, still wrapped in cheesecloth, on a cutting board and set another board or large flat-bottomed skillet on top of it. Weight the top with canned foods, flatirons, heavy pots or the like, weighing in all about 15 pounds, and let it rest in this fashion at room temperature for 6 to 8 hours, or until the cheese is firm and compact. Unwrap the cheese, cut it into 1/2 inch cubes, cover with wax paper or plastic wrap, and refrigerate until ready to use. (There should be about 1 to 1 1/2 cups of cheese cubes.)
It’s very Catalan. I don’t normally gravitate towards a fish salad (in my mind, a salad should have greens in it), but consider it a take on tuna salad. It’s cold and refreshing, and goes back to a basic pairing of olive oil and salt that plays well off each other. I’ve had it at a variety of restaurants, and wanted to see how they did it up at Bar Mut. They served it as a timbale (a built-up cylinder), and they had a sort of tomato puree on the bottom, followed by bacalao, and then some tomatoes and sundried tomatoes. Bar Mut read my mind and surrounded it with greens and a little olive tapenade. Good stuff.
For some reason, I insisted on foie gras. I think I was still in my phase where I had to order it every time I went out if it was on the menu. Not only did I order foie gras, I ordered it with two fried eggs. Talk about greasy and heavy. I used to subsist off bread and pasta, but with food like this, you can’t fill up on bread and not order the plate of foie and eggs. What can I say? It was seared foie and eggs, and I smeared some on bread and I would do it over and over again, whenever I do go back to Bar Mut. 
Then came some steak, mushrooms, and potatoes. Delicious mushrooms, tasty, tender beef…I’m looking at the picture now and wondering if it might be beef cheeks? I was a big fan of those in Spain. They fell apart with a fork like brisket, and always were dripping with a rich brown gravy. Not a complaint here. 
