Food Archive

Kid’s Meal – Pinche Pinche

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April 27, 2013Family Affair Food and DrinkNo comments

There are times when I wonder if it is more hassle than it is worth trying to impose some kind of order to this blog (drunken, late night posts accepted). Such a time came last Saturday night, as, sat in Pinche Pinche in Chapel Allerton, Leeds – I sank my teeth in to the softest, most tender, lamb burrito I had ever eaten. With every glorious bite of lamb, cheese and salsa, my thoughts turned, not to plate but to this place – to how I was going to have to write, not just a plethora of complimentary phrases, but something slightly more critical. For across the table sat Lauren; and her near untouched plate. Food reviews, at least restaurant reviews have been given over

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  Intro: This is not a food blog. Until a week ago I wasn’t quite sure what this blog was about; that was until I decided to focus on all things family. Therefore, a review of a restaurant under the subject heading “Kid’s Meal” is not just about the quality of food enjoyed by the parents, but the overall experience of a visit for the family – especially our children. Any actual comment on food will be done from a general, rather than specific food blogging perspective. We booked our table at Salvo’s on Friday lunchtime for that evening’s dinner session. We tend to book for 5.30pm so that we can miss the post-work rush – whilst also avoiding any minor tired/hunger related tantrums likely

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I have a dream. It really is a simple dream. One where I walk in to a restaurant in Italy; where the staff great me as a returning friend – one of the family, even. I opened a window on to that dream tonight. Where a friend, mio amico, took us to a restaurant in England. Where the staff treated him like a prodigal son. Where cheeks were kisses, hands pointed to waist, to chest – above head – signifying how much he has grown. We were dined, wined – I got to drink Amaro Montenegro. This was my dream; this was his life. Dining with friends – with family – where the people who serve you, care about you. This is what food is

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Buy better, buy less. That appears to be the current commercial mantra. Enjoy less of what you like, as long as you are prepared to pay more than you normally would – is another way of approaching it. After the meat fiasco of the supermarkets earlier in the year, I noticed a number of emails and tweets from local farms positioning themselves as the reliable alternative. They realise they can’t compete on price, so pitch it as quality over quantity. You can trust us; you just can’t necessarily afford us – so buy less. It is, after all, what environmentalists have been lobbying us to do for some time now. Have non-meat meals every now and again. You never know you might enjoy it –

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“Eureka” she said, as the pulley-controlled statue of Archimedes hit the water for the third time. “When does he go again?” She said. “In thirty minutes time” I said. I’m not sure what it says about Eureka! The National Children’s Museum in Halifax that a child was more interested in a working model of Archimedes’ screw, or a statue of him plunging in to a bath – not when there are so many other things to do. One of the key problems we found is that the museum is positioned to provide something for everyone; of all ages. There are spaces for under fives and harder tasks/interactive spaces for bigger children. This meant that in a lot of cases, something that looked interesting – through

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How many people like coffee art? If you don’t know what I am talking about, it’s when a barista takes their time to pour an image in to the top of your milky coffee – a fan, a heart, a leaf etc. How many of you think the experience adds to the, well, experience of drinking the coffee? Does a good barista, who can perform wonders with their wrists, actually make the coffee taste better? Or do you sometimes wish they would just hurry up and pour so you can get out of there? What difference does it make if they’re putting a lid on it? Coffee art is one of those things that if you go to a good coffee bar, you now expect

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Think of this postcard, not just as an update – but as a handy tip if you are a virgin to these shores. You see, there’s a chance where you may have to buy something to eat – that’s cheap and quick – that requires you to interact with someone behind a counter. Someone, who by the very nature of the counter’s presence, hates you – by default. This situation regularly arises in train station buffet bars. I think they’re great, quick and relatively inexpensive – especially when compared with back home. The key to these places is that you have to pay before you ask. Pay, not the people who will serve your food – but a person sat at the till – usually

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Think of a number. Not any number – a specific number. The exact number you will cook for, eat with, tonight. What about tomorrow night? Will the number remain the same? What if it was a weekend? When we, it seems, are expected to entertain. Does that number change? Does it fluctuate depending on the season? Or does it stay, very much the same? Three – that’s my number. It’s not magic, just the size of my immediate family; my household. Sure the dog gets the scraps, but you don’t start out a meal with scraps in mind – unless you’re in a northern chip shop. It was three on Sunday as well. It rarely changes. So why does nearly ever cookbook I own, every

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It’s amazing what excuses people use to project their wants on to others. Walking through the streets of Rome – looking for somewhere to eat during the day, Mum would always offer a preference to sit down; because it would be easier for Lauren. As I perched myself on a stone bench today, in Leeds; fighting with Lauren over the scraps of fish left on the tray – I wondered what I might have missed out on in Rome, by limiting where, and how we eat. Sat in shabby tourist traps, with broken toilet seats and extortionately priced soft drinks, I would see countless smartly-dressed office types – pounding the streets with something that could be eaten, single-handed. Pizza slices, focaccia; even a man and

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Ten pints Eight cans Eight bottles of wine Four gelato Four cornetto One pound! That’s how much the holiday cost me; one, solitary, single, easy to burn off pound in weight. Sorry if there are parts of the blog that appear to have descended in to the territory previously occupied by a certain, female diary – but, well, I can’t write a post, pre-holiday called a Weighty issue, and not at least make reference to it upon my return. The fact I only put a pound on proves, more than anything – that a healthy balanced diet is nothing without exercise. Four course meals, ice creams the size of a baby’s arm and plenty of booze was – give or take one pound – offset

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