Ginvent

Monmouth Coffee

Coffee is becoming increasingly popular. 

That sounds silly written down, and so it should: coffee is absurdly popular.  There are few things in life that large swathes of the population will readily admit to requiring to kick-start (or even get through) the day.  If you applied some of the oft repeated tropes about coffee to other drugs (and caffeine is just that, a drug) to things like alcohol or harder drugs, society would be quick to slap you with a 'problem' label.  For example, "I just can’t get out of bed without a big, strong mug of Maker's Mark" or "Getting through today's going to be a struggle – we're out of smack".  Yet we let it go on – and good thing too.

Yet it is becoming more popular – genuinely.  More and more coffee bars are springing up, independents this time, practicing an art with coffee akin to what craft pubs have been doing with beer these last few years.  More and more outlets are flogging coffee beans sourced direct from obscure producers in exotic – and, frankly, often rather dangerous-sounding – locations. 

Yet actually buying freshly roasted, top quality beans on the high street is still something of a struggle – especially since the partial collapse of Whittards.

Which is all a rather long winded way of going on to say that I just bloody love Monmouth Coffee. 

Based on the outskirts of Borough Market, Monmouth sources some of the very best coffee from around the world, roasts it and sells it to queues of caffeine junkie customers. 

The range is always spectacular.  From the Mayan Highlands of Guatemala, to the Aberdare Range of Kenya; from Brazil to Colombia; from Jamaica to Jakarta – they're not always on, but you can guarantee they'll be around sometime. 

Don’t be put off by the queue – more often than not, the mulch of people desperate to go in are waiting for the bar – which produces some mighty fine drinks, to be honest.  Scrum your way in to the bean counter and get chatting to one of the invariably helpful members of staff.  Pick what you want and tell them what it's for – whether you grind your own (good boys & girls)or use a cafetiere, a drip filter or an espresso machine, there's a special grind for each. 

They even do some special, unrefined canse sugar that is just absolutely the business - you wouldn't think it makes a difference, but trust me: it does.

But what's great is that you can taste every coffee – seriously, each and every one.  How often do you get that?  Just have a chat with your server, identify some prospects, and ask to try them.  They'll then grind you a wee scoop, put it through an even wee-er filter, and serve it up.

They even do this cool pouring thing between cups so that you can try it right away, without waiting for it to come down in temperature.

There's no denying that it's pricey.  Very pricey, for some of the beans, although there are always a few choices that come in much more pocket-friendly.  But think of it as a treat – in Chez Grubster, for instance, it's a Christmas or birthday celebration.  And you will notice the difference – of that I am completely certain.

Oh, and don’t forget – once you've got your beans, ask for a takeaway coffee – a great way of skipping the long queue!

- GrubsterBoy -

An Italian Feast

Following our trip to Vallebona, the Italian-deli-in-a-warehouse of South London, we all piled home to whip up a big feast. Generally, I can't recommend that place enough - the difference between what you get there and what you get in the supermarket is like... Well, it's another world - like eating wholly and completely different food, albeit with the names you know and love.

Here we have a variety of fun, starting from the top of the picture and working down: Salame Finocchiona Toscana (with fennel seeds – they also have a delicious picante version, well worth a try); Bresaola (cured, tender beef); Speck (a smoked, cured ham that starts its life wrapped in juniper and garlic – very alpine, which is hardly surprising given that it's cured in the very north of Italy, up in the mountains); Venison Prosciutto (beautifully gamey, lightly smoked Bambi); and Lonza (smoked pork loin). Full marks, this stuff was epic.

We also sampled a little spicy sausage that started out like any other salumi and grew in intensity and flavour as eaten.

Nor did we hold back on the cheese. Starting at the top right and working clockwise, we had: Testun al Barolo (a cow's milk cheese aged in wine barrels and then wrapped in the lees (the crushed grape must) from making wine); Gorgonzola Dulce DOP (a young gorgonzola that's still fresh, gloopy and creamy – like a beautiful half way house between a blue and a stinky cheese); Taleggio DOP (another alpine product, and a beautiful, if quite well known, stinky soft cheese); and Robiola Tre Latti (a cheese made from a gorgeous combination of cow's, sheep's and goat's milks – soft and creamy on the outside, soft and crumbly on the inside).

The cheese - especially the Barolo - ought really to be eaten with Mosto d'Uva - a Sardinian ultra-concentrated grape juice that, like pickle with cheddar or membrillo with manchego, adds a beautiful fruitiness that cannot be equalled.

Nor could we resist the sweets. Seriously, how could anyone? Hard, brittle torrone nougat and panforte (an Italian desert from Tuscany of honey, spices, dried fruits and nuts pressed into a cake).

Also on offer were sunblushed morello cherries cased in rich, dark, bitter chocolate that were just phenomenal. No other words to describe them.

- GrubsterBoy -

Vallebona

In a warehouse in South Wimbledon, tucked away out of sight and almost undiscoverable, there resides a utopia of Italian food: Vallebona.  Hidden on an industrial estate, originally it wasn't open to the public – we only found out about it via my uncle, a native Venetian. 

 

 

Now it's becoming more and more popular, as the word spreads – and with good reason.  It's seriously good stuff, have no doubt of that.  You don’t just need to take my word for it, either – this is the business supplying the top end across the board, from Fortnum & Mason to Paxton & Whitfield, from Bocca di Lupo to The River Café.  This is a seriously good outfit.
 

Inside there's a chilled cheese meat room with all sorts of peculiar and wonderful morsels, all laid out to be sliced and diced to your heart's content by the legion of friendly helpers.

 

More generally the warehouse, now stretching over two rooms, is full of plenty of longer life samples – from the breads and pastas...

 

 

...to countless jarred and bottled treats...

 

 

...grappa (as well as countless varieties of Italian wine)...

 

 

...and, of course, finishing off with magical Italian sweet goodies.

 

 

So, naturally, with all this on offer and on display, a feast back at the Grubster family home was mandatory.  And what a feast it was.  But more on that to come...

 - GrubsterBoy -