Monday, 30 April 2012

StockMKT

Wow.

There are weekends, and there are weekends.

This was one of the latter - this weekend was a double-header of food festivities: the StockMKT in Bermondsey on Friday evening and TweatUp's RIBSTOCK on Saturday. Suffice it to say I'm still stuffed.


Friday, babeshow blogger Rox and I headed down to Bermondsey after work, feeling the week melt away as we approached Bermondsey Square, smoke billowing from grills and already crowded with people sinking (and drinking) into weekend mode. Restorative beverages in hand, we began our attack.

Our first stop was with the Egg Boss, purveyer of Scotch Eggs extraordinaire. I have a slight addiction to the coated and crusted eggs and these are exceptional, the key being their still-runny yolks. Unfortunately we missed the St George's special - complete with a tenuous connection between the dragon and inclusion of chillis - but we did get our hands on the classic combination as well as one made with The Ribman's Holy Fuck hot sauce. More on that later.


Next our friend Daz commandeered us towards Pom Pom Takoyaki's plates of balls - the girl clearly has priorities. They might not look like much, but the savory spheres were almost custard-like in their delicacy, filled with chunks of chicken and coated in teryaki sauce and what Daz coined as "mayonnasia" (snaps).


For the main event, we decided to support Rox's friend and fantastic young chef James Ramsden in his new venture, Kebab Kitchen. After a few founding hiccups, we were so pleased that they soon got underway assembling their elevated take on the British staple. The spits turned with Suffolk chicken or West Country lamb, to be wrapped with pickled red cabbage, marinated onions, a tomato and cucumber salad, and smoked garlic yogurt and chilli sauces.


Sadly, no element of these made it into our watering mouths - we queued for what felt like forever, watching the ever-dwindling supplies and trying to drown our rumbling stomachs, before the boys announced that there was meat no more. James miiight have accidentally intercepted a withering look that was directed (I promise!) at the bare spit - as a fan of this friend-once-removed, I'm very happy he sold out, even if my hunger might have outweighed this sentiment at the time.

So, starving, we almost literally ran to Bhangra Burger for their spiced beef burger, slathered with fresh mango chutney and pickle, sprinkled with salad, and wrapped in warm flatbread. Needless to say, there are no pictures.

Reeling from the feeding frenzy, we staggered home devoid of dessert. Maybe when we head to the Real Food Market or The Ship for the Kebab Kitchen's next appearances they can bring of some of Bea's of Bloomsbury's devious deep-fried brownies? Just a suggestion.


Here endeth Part I of the weekend - on to RIBSTOCK we go...

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