Chicken Karaage Sandwich at Tsuru

LOCATION: Tsuru Sushi, various locations [see website for details].

PRICE: £5

BREAD: Sesame seeded brioche bun.

FILLING: Karaage chicken, cos lettuce, Japanese mayo.

PROS: What do you mean you don’t know what karaage is? Are you some kind of IMBECILE? Okay fine so it’s Japanese fried chicken. Fried chicken is now officially a good thing, by the way. No longer do we have to scarf KFC or Morley’s on the down low for fear of being ostracised by friends and family, now we can go to places like Wishbone, Mama Lan’s and Tsuru, and eat really bloody good fried chicken. We can eat it inside while sitting down and everything, rather than loitering with it on the streets or worse – YOUTHS – on the bus. No. Do you know what is covering the roofs of most buildings in major cities like London? Chicken bones, that’s what. The kids throw them on the floor and pigeons pick them up and deposit them on the roofs of buildings.

Anyway. This sandwich is incredibly good. Firstly, the chicken is thigh meat, which we all know is much tastier, not to mention juicier, than breast. It’s marinated in mirin, soy, ginger and garlic, then given a good ol’ dustin’ in cornflour and deep fried. It is spectacular; greaseless and, importantly, craggy. A good craggy batter is where it’s at. It comes on a sesame seeded slightly sweet bun, which is golden and shiny and has your back right until the end. There’s cos lettuce and Japanese mayo. You don’t know what Japanese mayo is?! Okay so it’s made with rice vinegar and is a little sweeter than the regular kind.

Now here’s the deal with the karaage sandwich; it’s delicious as is and all but the thing you need to remember is to add copious amounts of Tsuru’s frankly fantastic ‘Eat the Bits’ chilli oil. It’s quite mild for chilli oil actually, but the flavour is incredible. The way to use it is to get plenty of the sediment at the bottom,  hence the name ‘eat the bits’; it’s packed with sesame, red miso, garlic and onion. Get it on there, basically. Also, buy a couple of pots to use at home.

CONS: I would say the chilli oil should come as standard but it’s nice to be able to control how much you put on. Perhaps it should come with a little bit, just to convert any non-believers. I also find myself wondering if the lettuce should be shredded. Perhaps not.

SCORE: 9/10

Tsuru also make an excellent katsu sando, FYI

I’ve Written A Book About…Sandwiches!

Hello sandwich lovers! I’ve written a book. It’s called 101 Sandwiches and  is due to be published by Dog n Bone Books in the autumn. You can read a little about what to expect from it on my other blog, Food Stories.

Egg Mayo Bap at Sandwich Box, Borough

LOCATION: Sandwich Box, 9 Newington Causeway, SE1 6UD [map]

PRICE: £2.45

BREAD: White bap

FILLING: Egg mayo

PROS: One of the best things about writing a blog like this is that I find myself wandering into sandwich shops I would never have otherwise bothered with. Sandwich Box is a properly old school outfit, the kind you’d look at and think ‘huh’ and possibly ‘aww’ in a nod to its being so fabulously preserved in time, that time being about 15 years ago.

There are certain sandwiches that this kind of shop does extremely well however; the kind of  fillings people that are total dicks would term ‘retro’; fillings that more modern places attempt to pimp and embellish, thus ruining them. Some sandwiches have a nursery school appeal and should not be messed about with. Egg mayonnaise is one of them.

The bap (‘d’ya wanna sammich or a bap, luv?’) was really fresh with excellent chew; for some reason this type of bap seems to be a feature of the old school places. See Ed’s Diner in Camberwell. It’s so enjoyable. I’m bored of tooth testing ciabatta and too thick cut five seeded pumpernickel rye. Gimme a nice big white BAP. I like the way she took a hard-boiled egg and made the egg mayo there and then, rather than having it ready mixed in one of those metal trays where it forms a thick yellow crust on the top. Mmmm.

I really enjoyed eating in Sandwich Box; I enjoyed the sandwich, the price; the shitty tea that tasted like it came from an urn (it reminded me of a time doing voluntary work in a drop in centre many moons ago). I enjoyed Spandau Ballet on the radio (‘I Know This Much is True‘) and the mirror that fittingly read ‘nostalgia’.

CONS: Wellll, one must choose carefully in these places; like I said, this is about memory lane. It’s about craving an old time favourite that’s not been messed about with. No capers, no chives, no salad, no nothing but egg and mayo. I’d steer clear of anything more ambitious. The service is, well, what you’d expect from an old school caff in Borough. No nonsense. I said a cheery ‘bye!’ as I walked out the door and got a noise that sounded like ‘mm’ in reply.

There was nothing to particularly rile me; we must see this place for exactly what it is – a surviving sandwich bar hanging on in there, despite being just down the road from a Starbucks and a Pret.

SCORE: 7/10

Chicken Satay Banh Mi at Viet Cafe, Camberwell

LOCATION: Viet Cafe (formerly Cafe Bay), 75 Denmark Hill,  SE5 8RS [map]

PRICE: Ummm about £2.70 ish I think. Or £3.10? I’m just plucking numbers out of the air here. It’s cheap, basically.

BREAD: Baguette.

FILLING: A skewer of chicken flavoured with a mild satay, cucumber strips, pickled daikon and carrot, coriander, sweet chilli sauce, fresh chilli.

PROS: Camberwell is basically a sandwich wasteland so Viet Cafe must be making an absolute killing. This is by no means the best banh mi in the world but it stands out a mile in an area packing only a Subway (what IS that smell that comes from Subway?) and  numerous crappy cafes. Yes I enjoyed Rock Steady Eddie’s recently but seriously, there’s a time and a place, sickos!

I’m constantly amazed that the chicken satay banh mi is so much better than all the pork banh mi and, especially and, it’s better than the banh mi special which contains all the types of pork at once. ME CONFUSE. Anyway, it’s the best so I never order anything else. It’s also good and punchy, just the way a banh mi should be. I like the sweet chilli sauce filth factor, which they then ramp up with bits of fresh chilli so by the end I’ve really worked up a proper sniffle. Banh mi never have enough chilli in general, I find, so mad props to Viet Cafe in that respect.

CONS: Well you know, it’s not anything particularly ground breaking; you’re not going to find rice flour baguettes. I kind of wish they would stop arseing about with all the tuna mayo/cheese salad/chicken and sweetcorn rubbish though and just live up to the name of Viet Cafe – shake up that hood a little. I think Camberwell may just, just about be ready…

SCORE: 7/10 (relative to everything else in the area)

Group Hug

Group Hug

No sandwich review today, just my new favourite picture in the world ever, sent to me by my flat mate.

When you think about it, a sandwich is a big group hug.

Happy Christmas sandwich lovers!

(An illustration by temyongsky).

Bacon and Egg Roll at Rock Steady Eddie’s, Camberwell

LOCATION: Rock Steady Eddie’s, 2A Coldharbour Lane, Camberwell, SE5 9PR [map]

PRICE: About £1.60 I think. Well cheap, anyway.

BREAD: White roll.

FILLING: A fried egg, bacon, marg and brown sauce (the latter added by me).

PROS: Never is the pull of the greasy spoon more keenly felt than when one suffers from the excesses of the night before. That’s pretty much every day then, H, I hear you say? Well, yes okay then you cheeky sod, I am fond of the odd tipple. I am also fond of the caff in the way that I am fond of a proper old school boozer. From the latter I want names carved into glasses, plenty of dodgy taxidermy and every kind of snack made by the people who make Scampi Fries (with the exception of cheesy melting moments which are RANK). From the former I want formica topped tables, booth style seating and glass dispensers which leave your hungover brain pondering whether you’re pouring sugar or salt in your cup of charlie.

We order two bacon and egg rolls with a certain amount of trepidation. The first thing I notice is that the bun looks surprisingly good and bloody hell, IS IT?! Really fresh, perfect crust on top, a very decent chew which is just SO perfect for a breakfast bap; it will contain any amount of eggy oozage and brown sauceage. The amount of bacon is generous; 3 rashers for such a basic bap? I’m impressed. There’s also a bit of crispness to the fat which, in my experience, puts this towards the higher end of the greasy spoon quality scale where flabby bacon is the norm. The egg, although cooked in one of those funny ring things and flipped for neatness and ease of consumption, miraculously retains some ooze. This could be luck but I’m not complaining.

CONS: There is marg. Such a shame. Butter, people! BUTTER! Even cheapo shitty butter is better than marg. Even a poke in the eye is better than marg. Also there is the egg issue; I think I got lucky with the ooze to be honest, as the example across the table didn’t turn out so well. Didn’t stop me saying ‘HA HA HA, UNLUCKY!’ though, before gleefully smearing my roll around in the golden eggy drips on my plate. The egg could use work, let’s face it. Also, the whole place does appear to be covered in a thick layer of erm, character. I mean, I know it’s a greasy spoon  but I was a little reticent about squeezing the brown sauce from the bottle, for fear of what might come with it. It amused us greatly, then, that a sign on the wall addressed a problem with the unhygienic practices of the clientele; I’ve included a picture for your amusement below. The fact that this escalated to such problematic levels that they felt the need to write a sign is baffling/hilarious/gobsmacking/awesome. I know not where to start with the grammar/punctuation/slashes through the letter O like zeros. Rock Steady Eddie’s, I very much enjoyed your, as you put it, “cafe”.

SCORE: 5/10

Cheeseburger at Garfunkel’s, London Gatwick Airport North Terminal

A guest post for you today, from Donald E. He suffered so you don’t have to. 

LOCATION: Garfunkel’s, North Terminal, Gatwick Airport, RH6 0PJ [map].

PRICE: £6.95.

BREAD: Sesame seeded white burger bun.

FILLING: Grilled beef burger, mayonnaise, dill pickle, lettuce, tomato, red onion.

PROS: I really wanted a burger, actually I take that back, I really wanted a McDonald’s cheese burger, something quick and cheap to tide me over while I waited for my flight. I was, unfortunately on the wrong side of security at Gatwick airport and as such my options were limited. I’m still having flashbacks to the terrible mint yoghurt addition that I was once served in a Jamie’s Italian burger, so the Jamie’s whatever that I walked past was firmly off the cards.

I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten at Garfunkel’s, I imagine that I must have done, so prevalent are they in the departure terminals across the land, I must surely have darkened their doors early one morning in a sleep deprived hungover fug and demanded scrambled eggs, beer and coffee. I’m sure you can imagine why I might not remember.

But anyway, Garfunkel’s was there, I could see a picture of a burger, what could possibly go wrong?

Fuck, sorry I’ve got slightly ahead of myself and completely forgotten to list the pros:

1)       They had chairs.

2)      They had tables.

3)      There were windows through which I could see out of the restaurant.

CONS: Firstly, to drink I had a very expensive 250 cl plastic bottle of Magner’s cider, which once I’d finished was followed by the ignominy of my desperately gesticulating for someone, anyone to furnish me with another, the service staff having evidently decided to add insult to the injuriously minute serving measure by ignoring my pleading for a second.

Secondly, the burger, which, I ought add came with some chunky chips of the kind that make you long for some kind of proficiency exam for chip frying, and the usual coterie of sauces (red, off white, and yellowish). The burger itself came in a somewhat oversized bap, which had been finely aged to a state of stale friability. A triumvirate of little gem lettuce leaf, red onion and tomato slice sat atop the over cooked, cheese bedecked patty. To their credit they had melted the cheese rather well, though I suspect that was merely on account of the length of time the patty had been heated. Of the patty, what is to be said? It brought forth a torrent of memories, mostly unpleasant, of school dinner burgers, the frozen, then oven cooked, sorry brown hockey pucks of protein that were dished up as treats post sporting endeavour. The dining hall nod to cool Americana cuisine that, like your headmaster playing rock guitar in assembly, ended up being worse than cringe worthy. Yes it tasted exactly like that, I’m sure all those whose education was in the UK can relate.

Sorry to ramble, but the whole experience was terribly disheartening, I could almost feel the corporate cost cutting chipping mercilessly away at my enjoyment, each snip and tuck taking one more bite of tastiness from the dish, until all that remained was a simulacrum of a burger, something that from a distance might have resembled that which I understood as a burger, but upon closer inspection proved itself mere fraud.

I ate less than half.

SCORE: 1.5/10 (There was at least booze)