Restaurant review: Vanderlyle

There is a lot going on in the Mill Road area of Cambridge right now. So much so that we were distracted by all the places to eat to notice we'd walked right past Vanderlyle, where we were actually meant to be going. We quickly doubled back and hoped no one noticed we had walked by two minutes earlier.

I'll be upfront about this post: this isn't going to be a full review. There is so much information that I would have noted somewhere if I was going to write this up properly, which means I can't tell you which farm the vegetables came from or the variety of asparagus we ate, or the names of everyone we talked to last night (they were all very lovely, by the way.) What I wanted to do was write down everything that I thought made this place so incredibly special, and a tweet or an Instagram post just wouldn't suffice.

I booked a table at the pass, which would be called the "chef's table" and cost a lot more at London restaurants (it didn't) and I thought might involve a tight squish next to two strangers and awkward small talk until the wine kicked in (it didn't.) What I hoped for was the chance to see how a kitchen runs during service, how food is prepared by people who really know and love what they're doing, and to ask all sorts of banal questions. I got this and so much more. I'm not exaggerating, we asked things like "Where are your extractor fans?" This is the stuff I need to know. I also looked forward to catching up with Alex Rushmer, owner and one of our chefs for the evening. Chefs are normally hidden away in a kitchen and my questions go unanswered or forgotten by the time someone comes back to the table. To be served by our chefs and to be able to talk about the food and many other things with them was, very simply put, a real treat.

Alex Rushmer plating up at the pass

It's a set menu that changes monthly, and if you're like me (I will eat anything, anywhere), this is perfect. It takes away the agony of deciding between ten things that look amazing on the menu, then watching ruefully as something that looks nicer passes by to another table. This is the second menu since Vanderlyle opened last month and both times, the menu has been entirely vegetarian. This wasn't necessarily intentional, Alex told me. It was down to wanting to use local, sustainable ingredients and both months, this happened to be vegetables. Alex said that no one has complained about this or commented negatively about it. It made complete sense to me. How often do you get served a fantastic piece of meat, carefully prepared with a bit of veg thrown on the side as an afterthought? There is nowhere to hide when vegetables are the only ingredients. You can forgive a limp piece of broccoli if the steak is amazing. When it's the main focus of your dish, it has to be the best.

I had the alcoholic pairing (no surprise to anyone there) and Paul/my driver had the non-alcoholic pairing.  The care that went into the non-alcoholic drinks was fantastic. All non-alcoholic drinks for the pairing are made in house, often using ingredients from dishes on the menu, such as the pea pods from the soup. Really bloody clever and economical.

The first three dishes were slices of crunchy bread with a smoked butterbean puree, a warm cauliflower crumpet, and lettuce and pea soup that reminded me of the smell of standing in my veg patch when I'm thinning my tomato plants. There was also homemade rye sourdough bread with yeast butter that I got too excited about to photograph before inhaling.

Then came the asparagus which I could eat again and again. It was sweet, not a trace of fibrous woodiness, and made me realise that I could never, ever eat supermarket asparagus again without feeling deeply sad.  It was cooked on a grill that reminded me of a teppanyaki. "You should do an onion volcano and juggle knives!" I helpfully suggested. The soft boiled egg was perfect (5 minutes, 20 seconds - 10 seconds longer than David Chang's method, Alex pointed out),  I grabbed bread from earlier to wipe up every last bit of the hay mayonnaise, and the polenta made with chickpea flour was crispy and light. 

I can never eat asparagus from Tesco again and this is probably not a bad thing

The wild garlic and parsley risotto was rich and filling, thanks to the generous amount of butter and cheese I watched go into it. Parmesan is added to the risotto and pecorino is grated on top at the pass. An intensely flavoured mushroom reduction is quinelled (did I just make up a verb?) and topped with raw radishes. The fresh, crunchy radishes had none of the harsh pepperiness that you normally find and it cut through the rich risotto. 

A steak-like slice of roasted aubergine was coated in miso and furikake, my go to seasoning for pretty much everything. (I get mine from Ocado, but you can probably find it somewhere on Mill Road.) The most unexpectedly wonderful element of this dish was the roasted onion puree, which was slow roasted under parchment paper for several hours then pureed. How something this simple, albeit time intensive, could taste so complex is some sort of voodoo. The buttery new potatoes were so delicious, we genuinely contemplated drinking the butter out of the bowl when we finished the potatoes. But we are classy and totally didn't do that.

A strawberry and verbena semifreddo with beetroot that didn't taste of beetroot (a plus for us) was exactly what we needed after the risotto and buttery potatoes. The semifreddo was, and I hate to be repetitive, astoundingly simple and delicious. Again, I would happily eat a very large bowl of the semifreddo alone.

But then came the cake. This gorgeously orange-filled cake. I watched as they came out of the oven and I could have eaten five more. 

Finally, sadly, the meal came to an end with a glass of Quady Starboard that was like a tawny port and cookies fresh from the oven and chocolate truffles.

I haven't gone into all the alcoholic pairings because frankly, I know sod all about wine, beer, and fortified wine. I know what I like, and I can say that everything went beautifully with the food. I mentioned that I'm not a beer drinker and Alex was happy to offer me wine instead, but the beer really did go so well with the risotto that it would have been a shame to replace it with something else. The non-alcoholic drinks were also so well done, thoughtfully put together, and not at all what I expected. Most places would give you something sweet and overpowering (elderflower cordial, I'm looking at you), but these drinks were much more complex and interesting. I wish I could be more eloquent about it all, but all I know is that I loved it from start to finish.

Also worth noting is how clean the kitchen was the entire service. I can't even do scrambled eggs without my kitchen looking like something out of "Hoarders" by the end of it. Clean, and quiet. No shouting, no "OUI CHEF!" no "SERVICE!", just calm conversation and laughter.

From a business perspective, this restaurant is ingenious. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that it's all about work/life balance. It's open Tuesdays to Saturdays, tables are prebooked and prepaid, evening service only. No possibility of no shows or a sudden influx of walk-ins, and sociable hours for staff. They know exactly how many covers are coming in, which dishes they're making, and as such, no food is wasted. This was a big problem in other restaurants, Alex said. The amount of food wastage is horrendous. 

Our reservation was for 6:15 and I told our babysitter that we'd probably be back by 8:00. We spent a very, very happy three hours watching the inner workings of a professional kitchen and having a brilliant chat with everyone. Time flew, Alex said we could stay as long as we liked, and I think had we both been on the alcoholic menu, we probably would have stayed longer just to watch the Vanderlyle world go by and ask more questions. 

Oh and to answer the question about the extractor fans, they're actually next to the induction hobs. They suck the steam down, and it's the cleverest thing I've ever seen. 

Some practicalities:

• The stools at the pass are incredibly comfortable, even for a shorty like me (I'm 5'4".) They are upholstered and slightly cushioned, and were absolutely fine for our three hour stay.
• We parked at Queen Anne's Terrace car park, which is about a five minute walk from Vanderlyle. We got there at 6:00pm and left at 9:30pm, total cost was £4. Affordable parking is like gold dust in Cambridge. You can certainly take your chances with the side streets off Mill Road, but I can't handle that kind of uncertainty.
• The restaurant will contact you in advance to ask if you have any food intolerances or allergies.
• The lighting is not ideal for food photography, if that sort of thing matters to you. I had the advantage of sitting right next to the lights at the pass, so I stuck my plates underneath to take photos. But really, who cares? Put your phone away and just enjoy it. 

Do I need to put a disclaimer here? Oh, what the hell. This is not a sponsored post, nobody paid me to write this, and we paid for our meal in full. Although I've known Alex for a few years and have enjoyed his food and conversation before, this is an unbiased review of our experience at Vanderlyle. 

review: sticks n sushi cambridge

Right at the start of Meat Street (depending on which direction you're coming from, obviously) is Sticks N Sushi, a Danish chain with restaurants in London and now Cambridge. Yes, Danish. Why the hell not? I'm half Japanese and half Scottish; I'm all for fusion. It's a chain but it's not really a chain. A very short walk down the road leads to two other well known sushi chains, but I wouldn't consider them to be Sticks N Sushi's competitors. I see this as something higher end, a proper restaurant you'd go to for lovely drinks and pretty food.

Sticks N Sushi invited Cambridge area bloggers and writers to come to "preview" lunches and dinners a few days before they officially open on May 7. I took my friend Katie with me, who is my go-to person when I need an opinion on good restaurant food. I think she's eaten at every restaurant on my London wish list.

It was a gloriously sunny Friday, I bypassed the office sausage and bacon rolls that morning in anticipation of a big lunch, and I was in a happy and very hungry mood. We were immediately greeted by several smiling faces and taken to our seats at the bar. Our waiter told us that we would be served a set menu, but gave us the extensive "photo album" menu to look at for future reference. The menu is huge, with photos - 162 of them, to be precise - that helps people like me make food decisions. (I tend to skip over recipes that don't have photos. I'm kind of basic that way.) We started with drinks: a matcha tea for Katie and a lemon and ginger fizz for me. I was pleasantly surprised that the fizz wasn't sweet, and on such a hot day (for England), it was incredibly refreshing.

"Ebi bites" came out first, a sort of tempura prawn dish that was crispy and light. It's actually not at all tempura, I just used that word because it's on the menu. I'm not sure what the coating was, but it was almost like puffed rice. Whatever it was, we ate it in about 15 seconds and it was good.

The sushi was the focus for me, and my expectations were high. Cambridge needs decent sushi. We have Japas Sushi which is the best by far, but you go there to fill a sushi-shaped hole or get takeaway. You don't go there to linger over cocktails. Otherwise, we have chains and one of them is good (fresh, nice variety, not too expensive, great for food on the go) and the other is Yo Sushi. All I will say on the topic is that I only go there when my children clamour for it, and they only go there because food goes by on a conveyor belt and you can push a button to get more food. So when rows and rows of beautiful sushi arrived on two long plates, we both let out a little "Oooooh."

We had a combination of nigiri (fish on rice balls) and rolls. We were given a good variety to try, ranging from the more traditional (shake or salmon nigiri) to the more Westernised versions of rolls (spicy tuna with avocado.) The fish and rice were beautifully fresh, and the rice was seasoned well. Some varieties were more interesting than others, and you need to adjust your excitement levels accordingly. Nothing involving salmon and cream cheese is ever going to be described as "an explosion of flavour" but we liked them anyway. We decided to be sensible (this is a rare thing for me) and take about 1/3 of the sushi home and save room for the sticks.

We had three stick varieties between the two of us, which was good because we were starting to enter Man Vs Food territory with all of the sushi. We had black cod, asparagus in bacon, and as they must have got word about me and my love of bacon ahead of time, scallops in pancetta.  All cooked perfectly and hooray, double bacon!

I don't normally have dessert at Asian restaurants (mostly because we don't tend to do desserts all that well and I've stuffed myself with dumplings and/or rice by that point) but we fit in two small dishes of yuzu sorbet and vanilla ice cream, which were very welcome on a warm day.

The waiter described the provenance of all of the fish on our plates and we had a chat with one of the managers about it after our meal. This is an important factor at this restaurant and it's reflected in the taste - and price. This is the cost of quality, fresh, sushi grade fish. The problem is, Cambridge is used to supermarket and chain sushi that comes cheap. Chewy unseasoned rice topped with a wodge of tasteless fish, but it's all some people know. Even I find it difficult to fathom paying £13 for two pieces of sushi, despite knowing what I'm paying for. If it's a special occasion or we're in a large group (I love meals with lots of sharing dishes), I would be happy to come back here.

Will the people of Cambridge pay a premium for high end food or will this get dismissed as "London prices"? Sticks N Sushi is in an area right next to a large mall and across from a theatre, and many walk-ins will be looking for something quick and cheap. I think as long as you understand what you're in for, you're good to go. Given the demographics of central Cambridge (tourists, students, locals on a lunch break or looking to grab a bite before heading out for the evening), I would like to see some set menu deals, or prix fixe because it sounds a lot nicer in French. There are some nice looking sharing plates and set menus on there already, but the price still may deter some people.

Disclaimer: Look, I've been blogging since 1999 (on a Tripod site that might still exist somewhere in cyberspace) and we never had to do this nonsense back then. You'd just go somewhere and if you liked it, you might write about it on your blog. These days, you've got to put a disclaimer at the end of anything resembling a review or nobody will simply trust that you went somewhere and had a good time. Anyway, Sticks N Sushi picked up the bill and we didn't choose our own dishes. Nobody said "Write a good review or else we'll tell everyone that you're an asshole and make you pay for your meal." We genuinely liked it. Okay? Okay.

sunday best at gog magog farm shop with guerilla kitchen: Eat Cambridge

I had neither the time nor calorie allowance to go to any of the Eat Cambridge events this year with one exception: Sunday Best at Gog Magog Farm Shop. I couldn't pass up the chance to have food cooked by one of my favourite chefs, and Sunday roast is one of the best things I've discovered since moving to England. It's also one of the trickiest meals to do for mass catering. Jay Scrimshaw not only managed to feed us all with a couple of green eggs and his truck, he gave us one of the best Sunday lunches I've ever had.

I first heard about Jay in 2009 when he and his wife Taffeta ran The Pheasant in Keyston, shortly before their appearance on Gordon Ramsay's "F Word" where they came in second place overall. I went with a couple of friends to check it out before it got hugely popular from their TV appearance, and we loved it. The Scrimshaws eventually moved on, focussing on pop-ups. I spoke to Taffeta about it for an article and had the chance to enjoy Jay's food again at two subsequent pop-ups. Jay now brings his food (specifically, his incredible steamed buns) to Cambridge via his food truck Myrtle and did a special one-off roast dinner as part of the Eat Cambridge food festival.

There are so many things I love about a Sunday roast: the gathering of family around the table after a week of speed eating and uncoordinated meal times, crispy roast potatoes, big hunks of meat, the excuse to have wine in the afternoon. Although I do love making a weekly roast for our family, it's very, very nice when someone else does the job for me every now and then.




We sat in tables of six (or in our case, four adults, two children, and one 5-year-old diva who demanded a scotch egg) in "The Shack", a covered outdoor area next to the cafe. We started with charred leeks with romesco sauce, a dish we devoured at one of Jay's pop-ups a little while ago. There's no photo because we hoovered it all up in minutes. It came with a massive salad with apple, hazelnut, and blue cheese dressing.

The main course was pure heaven. Meat. Lots and lots and lots of meat. Even better, meat with perfectly cooked side dishes: beetroot, apple, and fennel slaw (no filter needed), roast potato cooked in dripping, crispy asparagus, and Yorkshire puddings.

But the meat. We need to talk about the meat. LOOK AT THIS MOTHER LOVIN' MEAT.



Lamb shoulder and pork belly that had a beautifully smoky taste that you can only get with charcoal cooking. I ate way too much meat. I had to go have a little walk outside for a few minutes before I could contemplate dessert.


The sun came out, the kids ran in the fields, and I finished my glass of Sauvignon Blanc listening to some chilled vintage (i.e. songs by people who were alive when I was a kid) tunes. The stress and chaos of a very hectic week melted away. If there weren't other people around who could see me, I probably would have had a little nap.


By the time the pavolva came out, I was actually ready and able to cram a bit more into my stomach. It was like a giant marshmallow slathered in whipped cream and fresh, flavoursome strawberries I've been waiting for since last summer. We all had a huge slice. Then Isla wanted more. And Grandad wanted more. And Jack wanted more. And Isla started to have a hissy fit so Grandad shared his piece with Isla.

This was a wonderfully perfect Sunday and as an added bonus, we came home with a bag full of leftovers*. Thanks Jay and the lovely people at Gogs. I will happily let you take the Sunday roast shift for our family again anytime.

Full photo set here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/lisadurbin/sets/72157653368766202

*(I may have stolen a bit of pork belly from the bag before putting it in the freezer, and I might be feeling a little bit like Mr. Creosote right now.)

Kate Bush: Before the Dawn, Eventim Apollo (review)

28/08: Following on from people who are getting silly money for this, I've put four pieces of confetti from the Kate Bush concert on eBay - all proceeds will go to charity (TBD - am thinking along the lines of Amnesty Int'l, Oxfam, or British Red Cross.) Auctions end this evening at 8:30ish UK time.

29/08: The auction has ended and £50 is now in the hands of Medecins Sans Frontiers/Doctors Without Borders! I'm floored that people will pay £10-15 for one piece of confetti, but really pleased I was able to raise this much for charity. Bless you, you crazed Kate fans!


In case it's not obvious, this post will contain spoilers and information that people who don't know/care about Kate Bush may find utterly pointless. I won't list all the tracks, although if you're curious, here is the setlist: http://www.wonderingsound.com/news/kate-bush-setlist-2014/  Also, this isn't really a proper review; it's a collection of ramblings from a middle-aged Kate fan who has a terrible short term memory and needs to write this stuff down before she forgets.

Right, let's carry on.

We had tickets in row E, and I was absolutely astounded to learn that this was the front row. They had removed rows A-D to accommodate the deeper stage; I had expected to be peering between the heads of the four rows ahead of me (as often happens when you're only 5'4".) We followed the letters along and when they stopped at E, I had Paul check the tickets to make sure I wasn't misreading something. A woman a couple of rows back called over, "Congratulations - you're in the front row!" as other people around her smiled at my shocked face. Hands shaking, I took a few photos of the stage. You cannot take a panoramic shot with your iPhone when you have the shakes, just FYI. We tucked our phones away knowing that we'd been asked not to view the show through a lens, and remarkably, everyone else did the same. Not one glowing screen appeared (that I could see), just like in the olden days when I used to go to concerts as a teen and all we had were chalkboards and quills.

The show started promptly at 7:45 with a barefooted Kate leading her background singers out on the stage. No opening act, no messing about, here's bloody well Kate fucking Bush. We erupted into applause, roaring at the sight of this woman we've waited so very long to see. "Where have you been?" she joked with us. She seemed a bit tentative, which may be just my interpretation based on what we know about her reluctance to perform live, and the audience seemed to cheer her on in encouragement. It was like 8,000 people were saying "It's alright, Kate - come on out now."

Once I got over the fact that I was looking at actual real life Kate Bush (about four songs in), I worried a bit. Although she could have come out and burped the phone book and I would have been elated, the fact that the show started out so...normally was troubling. She stood, she sang, she twirled around a bit. She thanked the lighting director (which seemed a somewhat awkward thing to do after only the second song) and then thanked her son Bertie for encouraging her to do this tour, who stood in front of us with the other backing vocalists. She talked a bit between songs, punctuated by enthusiastic applause throughout. She launched into "Running Up That Hill" and the place imploded. It was amazing and exciting, but where were the theatrics?

The lights suddenly dimmed and French percussionist Mino Cinelu stepped forward, whirling an object around his head that made an ethereal humming sound. Cannons shot yellow slips of tissue paper with words from Tennyson on them at us. A screen dropped down to show a short film about an astronomer reporting a ship in distress. Well okay then, this was the show I was looking for.

"The Ninth Wave" was performed in its entirety, combining film, dialogue, and dance. Huge billowing sheets were swept across the stage by performers draped in alien-like fish skeletons (stay with me, here), falling over the front of the stage like a waterfall. Frantic rescuers chopped at the ice with axes, finally making an opening with a chainsaw, as Kate momentarily bobbed up to the surface from underneath the stage. A film of Kate projected on a screen at the back of the stage was her "reality"; a woman in a lifejacket struggling to stay afloat in icy water. On stage was the "dream". A fairly rudimentary (i.e. it was controlled by a couple of blokes pulling on ropes) but incredibly effective helicopter sort of contraption moved across the audience, puffing out fog and panning its search light over us. Paddy Bush's tinny voice reported the loss of one female overboard to the rescue team back at the base. The following songs told the rest of the story from drowning to rebirth, ending with the lights brightening in sunrise and an utterly joyful, soul-lifting rendition of "The Morning Fog."

After a 20 minute intermission, during which we all blinked in a daze trying to register what we've just seen, the second half led us through "A(n Endless) Sky of Honey." A wooden puppet that looked like an artist's model, a child, wandered around the set observing everything and everyone in wonder. I felt less connected (what a pretentious word) to this half simply because "Hounds of Love" was such a big part of my teenage life and the later albums happened a little more quietly in the background of my adult life. I got a similar sense from the audience around me; there was less head-bobbing, chair dancing, and singing along. I feel like this section created a different atmosphere, similar to watching a West End show in which you aren't overly familiar with the songs. This is not a bad thing, by any means. I just had to switch gears and take it in differently.

Kate's son Bertie was central to this half, although he was very much present throughout. It's obvious that he was the main motivation and inspiration to do this tour (is it a tour when it's only at one venue? I dunno.) I often caught him casting a close eye over his mother during the performance, non-verbally reassuring her. Bertie fit into the show perfectly, and performed a solo with a new song called "Tawny Moon."

In between the polished, powerful two main performances she was just Kate - for example she remarked "Oh, there's a tree!" when a piece of the set was still lodged in her piano from an earlier scene and "It wasn't even for real!" with a large smile when we all cheered her return to life before "Morning Fog." She thanked us for receiving her so positively and seemed to visibly relax by the end of the show, which went out with a bang with "Cloudbusting." Being able to stand a few feet from one of my idols while singing at the top of my lungs "Yay-e-yay-e-yay-e ohhhh!" along with her will be a moment I will cherish for a very long time. We whooped and we waited, but that really was the end of the show. That lasted for three hours.

I don't want to call this a "comeback tour" because her last album "50 Words for Snow" is a relatively new release. The fact that she hasn't been on stage for so many years doesn't negate what she's been doing in the studio. She's not being hauled out at Newmarket Races to sing the three hits she had in the 80s with five other ageing, balding bands from the same era. I don't really feel like she's been absent, this is simply a new tour. A very long overdue tour, but a just a tour nonetheless. I think this is reflected in the songs she chose to perform. This isn't a "Kate's Greatest Hits" show, it's an intricate piece of theatre.

I'm glad that there were no special guests (despite rumours of Peter Gabriel hopping up on stage to sing "Don't Give Up" with her), a huge chorus of professional dancers, or a rendition of "Wuthering Heights". After I saw the show, I knew that would have been out of place. It was an elaborate production however it was simple in that the stage only ever contained the musicians, Kate, her vocalists, and a very small number of performers to help with some elements such as the fabric sea and the wooden puppet.

It was mostly what I expected but still surprising and amazing. The hamsters that run my brain are still making the wheels whizz round in my head as I try to take it all in. And the Internet is undoubtedly billowing smoke as we all post our thoughts about the show over the past twelve hours.

"Does that mean you liked it?", she asked at the end. Yes, very much so, Kate. Please come back and do it again sometime.

review, sort of: savion glover, sole sanctuary

It's not often you'll find one of my reviews on this site but as no one asked me to review Savion Glover's latest show "SoLe Sanctuary" (currently at Sadler's Wells theatre in London), here it is. Actually, this isn't a proper review; it's more of a response to the lukewarm reviews I came across on t'internet (of which there were only two, but both for major British newspapers.)

So here's the thing - most people here will know Savion Glover as the tap dancer who was digitally tracked to animate the feet of Mumble, the penguin from "Happy Feet". For those of us from North America, we also know him from the wildly popular production "Bring in Da Noise, Bring in Da Funk" that had a good run on Broadway in the 90s. We also know him from the films "Jelly's Last Jam" and "Tap". And yeah, probably "Sesame Street", too. The point is, we know what to expect when we see him tap.

We know he's not going to leap into the air and turn a sofa on its side or shuffle his way up a grand staircase. He's not going to do jazz hands and big-toothed smiles to big band music. He's going to use his feet like percussive instruments, moving very little else. He is going to blow us away with his intricate rhythms and make us wonder how he's making any sound because we can't really see his feet  moving.

His latest show, SoLe Sanctuary, does exactly this. It's 80 minutes of percussion, sometimes with music or singing, but mostly just his and Marshall Davis Jr's taps. He strips tap down to its essence: sound. He doesn't look out into the audience because he doesn't need to; I spent the entire show staring at his feet, my jaw on the floor.

His segments with Davis Jr were like conversations, moving between finishing each other's sentences and trying to outdo each other. They smiled broadly as the other danced, showing a longtime familiarity but also marking respect. It was difficult to tell if these segments were ad libbed; their faces made us believe that some of the steps were being seen for the first time on that stage.

I think drummers would enjoy this show or at least get something more out of it. I don't think I fully appreciated how intricate these rhythms were and my rudimentary understanding of tap didn't help much, either. Still, I was transfixed. I found myself shaking my head at these impossible steps and nodding along to the sounds. The audience erupted with applause and whoops at the end of each segment and gave a standing ovation at the finale.

There was no intermission but I think a break would have disrupted the flow of the show. It also left us wondering how the hell these men could tap for that long without collapsing. It was, in a word, astounding.

Thank you Savion for educating me about traditional African American tap and for blowing me away with the sounds that came out of your feet. I am inspired.