The Greasy Spoon

The Greasy Spoon visits... Louis Pâtisserie of Hampstead

 

 

Many moons ago, I used to live in Hampstead. Subsequently, I've always had rather fond memories of the place; comparing it (perhaps foolishly) to Montmartre; and having been weaned as a nipper on Walt Disney's The Aristocats, think longingly of crooked chimneys, jumbled roof-tops, Victorian gas-lamps, hilly cobbled streets, and silvery Parisian light. In London.

If you've been following my blog, you'll know that I'm not especially keen on change for change's sake, and think continuity is often a quality overlooked by many restaurants. In a world of establishments modelling themselves on the Los Angeles airport transit lounge, circa 1961, it's refreshing to visit such restaurants as Wilton's (all banquettes, shabby velvet and heavily gilded frames) and Odin's (Edwardian British paintings, crisp linen tablecloths, and a discreet double-breasted maitre d'). Yesterday we had a Sunday afternoon coffee at the Louis Pâtisserie, and I can tell you now that it hasn't changed one iota since I last graced it with my presence- oh- at least ten to fifteen years ago.

Louis' is an institution. It's a Hungarian pâtisserie, café and tea rooms on Heath Street- that means it's in the centre of Hampstead village, proper. For some reason, East European restaurants always look a bit like railway carriages or waiting rooms- I can think of The Gay Hussar (railway carriage), or Daquise (waiting room). Louis' looks like a railway carriage- but a first class railway carriage at that: panelled with cherry wood, lined with slightly dubious 1950's still-lifes, and offering its clientele the luxury of banquette seating covered in sinful kidron. It's staffed by rather efficient little old ladies- heavily made up, plucked eyebrows, bee-hives, pearls; and (reassuringly) younger blonde girls with cracking figures and a brisk attitude.

Louis' is deservedly busy, and we had to wait in the crush for about ten minutes before being seated. One of the blonde girls brought a large silver plated tray of tempting looking goodies. I chose a chestnut, chocolate cream thingy, with worm-like bits on the top. The Girl went for some sort of chocolate torte, decorated with an L for Louis in swirly writing. The strawberry topped cake looked fabulous, too. 

In this sort of place, you can't but help listen in to other people's conversations (not that I would normally dream of doing this sort of disreputable activity). There were two youngish types (clearly from distant shores), not I regret plotting revolution, but trying instead to finish off some sort of marketing deal in broken English- with lots of gesticulation, stabbing of the table, and 'how do you say's'. The rest of us were more interested in the cake. 

Louis Pâtisserie, 32, Heath Street, Hampstead, London, NW3 6TE (020 7435 9908)

 

Russian Lemon Soup

 

 

Jiminy Cricket, I love this soup! I've taken it from Dara Goldstein's "A Taste of Russia", which is a must for your cookery library if you like hearty East European cuisine. It's extremely simple to make, cleansing, unusual, and most importantly delicious. Here's how you make it:

In your favourite pan cook a handful of rice (I use Uncle Ben's Long Grain American Rice) in unsalted butter until the rice absorbs the butter and becomes transluscent. This should only take a few seconds. Next add some good chicken stock (home-made si'il vous plait- I'll be coming to this in another post). Simmer for about twenty minutes.

You will probably need to add more stock bit by bit- you want to get the balance right between the rice and the liquid. When the rice is cooked, stir in some double cream, and the finely grated rind and juice of a lemon. Keep on stirring to make sure the soup is well blended.

Finally, serve in bowls with a slice of lemon floating on the top and chopped parsley or dill. Make sure that each bowl has a spoonful of the rice on the bottom of each bowl.