It’s finally happened. France has its first mobiler. Le Camion Qui Fume – literally, “the smoking truck” — hit the streets at the end of last year, and its burger has been declared “incroyable” by the elegant citizens of Paris. Californian expat Kristin Frederick, a former chef at Spago in LA, had the right idea with her meat menu. “Even the French were waiting for a real American burger,” she said. Frederick might be American, but Le Camion Qui Fume owes a definite debt of gratitude to the Meatwagon — and the stars of the British Street Food Revolution. It says as much here. I think.
It’s the latest victory in the ongoing democratisation of French food. (more…)
Andy Waugh is a Highlander in London who spotted a gap in the market for good quality, decent value game. His company — The Wild Game Co — supplies the city with venison, duck, pheasant, hare, pigeon and partridge, and 90% of it comes from his parents’ farm in Scotland. Here, Adam Layton — food writer from the esteemed Noshable — writes about the new street food trend for wild meat. (more…)
The first public appearance of Churros Bros was at the Ealing Jazz Festival. It was, coincidentally, the place that Innocent started out. Two entrepreneurs, nervous about giving up their day jobs, bought £500 worth of fruit and turned it into smoothies. They put up a sign saying ‘Do you think we should give up our jobs to make these smoothies?’ and put out one bin saying ‘YES’ and one bin saying ‘NO’. They asked people to put their empty bottles in the corresponding bin. At the end of the weekend the ‘YES’ bin was full – the next day, the pair went in to work and resigned.
Are you kidding? No more heroes? We have spent months now, meeting, greeting and eating the best of British street food. And there are some real superheroes out there. Men and women doing great things in a kitchen the size of a postage stamp. Now there’s a superpower. For a bit of fun, here are three particular heroes of mine.
In troubled times, a juicy, two-fisted hamburger provides comfort. It isn’t a trend – it’s a classic. And it’s a classic for a reason. So don’t monkey about with it. The meat shouldn’t be lean — you’ll end up with a burger that’s mealy and dry. And make sure to get your meat-to-bun ratio right. (more…)
The chestnut seller on the South Bank got me thinking about Christmas. It wasn’t his welcoming spirit – God no. He was French. And the most miserable mobiler I’ve come across in a long time. But he still got me thinking. At this time of year, when I’m dreaming of long wreaths of sausages, hocks of ham, and seething bowls of punch that make the front room dim with steam, I like to wassail. The English have always “wassailed” rather well at Christmas. In Speculum Stultorum by Nigellus Wireker (an ideal stocking filler, by the way) the English students at the university of Paris were praised for their generosity, but damned for being “addicted to wassail”.
The wassail bowl was as big as a cauldron, and kept warm over the burning yule log. On New Year’s Day, the children would take the bowl to their friends – a practice that became known as ‘wassailing’. If there was any left over (unlikely, given that this was before Diamond White cider was freely available from unscrupulous off-licences) the holiday ale would then get poured over the land – or fed to the livestock – in an attempt to boost fertility for the next season. It was a strong old drink – guaranteed to have you decking the halls whether you want to or not.
I don’t know if it was the coffee beans (Tanzanian Peaberry and Sumatran Mandeling), the hand grinder, the personal cafetiere or the trioxane pocket stove in her handbag that give it away. But I knew early-on that my wife was particular about coffee. Now, to make matters worse, she has gone and struck up a relationship with our local coffee cart. “Try one of these” she says, handing me a coffee with a spoon dipped in white chocolate. “You want cinnamon with that?” She’s lost her coffee-loving mind. But she says she’s tasted the future. And, apparently, it will be served with gingerbread biscotti.
I remember a time when it was different. When a ‘free refill’ was a threat rather than a promise. When coffee tasted like tea. I remember industry insiders talking about toasted bran and chicory as “the new coffee” because coffee was dead. But then came Frasier and Friends, and all of a sudden we were ordering double skinnies like we knew what it actually meant. Now coffee shops are everywhere. Baristas are busily swathing espressos in hot milk, whipped cream and flavoured syrup, and handing us back something that looks like an ice-cream sundae. Which isn’t always a good thing.
If anyone told you that peddling food on the streets is a mug’s game, send them to me. This is just your average lunchtime at Daddy Donkey’s ‘burro-mobile’ in London’s Leather Lane Market. And judging by the high-end knitwear in the photograph, these guys have money to spend. According to the woman who nominated them (a Tex-Mex loving American, no less) the burritos and tacos are without a doubt the best Mexican food in the UK. I take that with a pinch of salt. And a squeeze of lemon. But keep the nominations coming.
It’s finally happened. France has its first mobiler. Le Camion Qui Fume – literally, “the smoking truck” — hit the streets at the end of last year, and its burger has been declared “incroyable” by the elegant citizens of Paris. Californian expat Kristin Frederick, a former chef at Spago in LA, had the right idea with her meat menu. “Even the French were waiting for a real American burger,” she said. Frederick might be American, but Le Camion Qui Fume owes a definite debt of gratitude to the Meatwagon — and the stars of the British Street Food Revolution. It says as much here. I think.
The first public appearance of Churros Bros was at the Ealing Jazz Festival. It was, coincidentally, the place that Innocent started out. Two entrepreneurs, nervous about giving up their day jobs, bought £500 worth of fruit and turned it into smoothies. They put up a sign saying ‘Do you think we should give up our jobs to make these smoothies?’ and put out one bin saying ‘YES’ and one bin saying ‘NO’. They asked people to put their empty bottles in the corresponding bin. At the end of the weekend the ‘YES’ bin was full – the next day, the pair went in to work and resigned.
In troubled times, a juicy, two-fisted hamburger provides comfort. It isn’t a trend – it’s a classic. And it’s a classic for a reason. So don’t monkey about with it. The meat shouldn’t be lean — you’ll end up with a burger that’s mealy and dry. And make sure to get your meat-to-bun ratio right. 
I remember a time when it was different. When a ‘free refill’ was a threat rather than a promise. When coffee tasted like tea. I remember industry insiders talking about toasted bran and chicory as “the new coffee” because coffee was dead. But then came Frasier and Friends, and all of a sudden we were ordering double skinnies like we knew what it actually meant. Now coffee shops are everywhere. Baristas are busily swathing espressos in hot milk, whipped cream and flavoured syrup, and handing us back something that looks like an ice-cream sundae. Which isn’t always a good thing.
