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Hi there. My name is Nicole and I have been one of the Shiplings for a year and a bit now. Osh has asked me to write a blog. So, here it is! Hope you enjoy it.

I became a Shipling at the beginning of the summer last year. Osh hired me as bar staff. Being Dutch, I had no clue what a pint of shandy or a Ramrod and bitter was. I found that working in a bar does not just mean pouring a pint or two. There is a lot more to it, especially in a pub like the Ship.

Straight away the Shiplings taught me their motto: ‘Work Hard, Play Hard’. And that is what we did and still do. For most of us this is our second job. We do it because we love it, take pride in it whilst performing to a professional standard and to earn some extra cash to pay for our bills (and a few extra drinks).

The one thing the Ship cannot live without is its people. Ever since I started working here I have been embraced by all the staff. In the beginning they took me under their wings. I like to think that I now do the same for some newbies. We all try to support each other in whatever way we can: if it is swopping shifts or motivating somebody to nail that project/exam. We try to take care of each other. That is why the Ship’s team is so special!

What’s Been Going on: Bank Holiday

I usually feel anxiously excited about Bank Holiday Weekends. Of course myself and the rest of the staff enjoy serving all of you and making sure you are all having a blast. However, sometimes I would also love to join you dancing on those tables while enjoying a drink. 

Now, to be completely honest, you have probably spotted me accompanied by the famous Emma and other Shiplings on those tables before. After finishing a Sunday day shift, we always stay for a sneaky drink and some ‘networking’ as we call it. So, if the Bank Holiday Weekend is the only weekend I cannot do a little dance on the tables, so be it.

And you guys came down in big, and I mean BIG, numbers. We cleared the restaurant to make some space for the famous Nathan and Nico and transformed the kitchen into a third bar, which gave most of the chefs a well deserved night off. In the main bar Alex Drew rocked the boat, erm… beat.

I hope all of you had a blast because we certainly did! The dazzling view of most of you showing off your moves and enjoying the atmosphere will be treasured. Thanks for coming down! However, the cleaning up was less fun (gosh, you guys know how to make a mess, ha!). Luckily Charlie fed all of us with some tasty pizza and Jonny made sure we pumped up the alcoholic level of our blood with some Jägermeister.

This week we will all be recovering from a booming weekend. I hope you all picked up again because we would like to see you down for our Quiz tonight or our live band on Thursday and Sunday eve. I am sure I will see you around!

We are proud to present our new Pork Belly Dish. However, we are not entirely convinced of the accompaniments, any suggestions? And, due to a lot of requests, our famous Shepherd’s Pie is back! This time made of delicious mince, wholegrain mustard mash and buttered broccoli. Yum! The chefs will be more than happy to prepare these delicious dishes for you.

Cheers, 

Nicole

I had a belief that gin or the classic G and T was about as English as it comes. I thought it was right up there with things like Toad-in-the-hole, Morecombe and Wise and beaches at the seaside devoid of even a hint of sand.

However, like a great deal of my beliefs, it turns out to be way far off the mark. Although the classic gin served over our bar is London dry, gin began its life a mere invention from a Dutch doctor in Amsterdam. Luckily for us, this was well before the golden rule of ‘what happens in Amsterdam stays in Amsterdam’, or is that Las Vegas, not entirely sure. It was used as a medical tonic to treat ailments, as the primary ingredient Juniper berries has well known medical properties.

The English love affair with gin started in the early 17th century when for all extent and purposes a bunch of squaddies went on the razzle dazzle in the Dam. The drink became so popular with the English soldiers who were at the time fighting the “eighty year war” and if I’m honest seemingly dragging the whole thing out a bit, that the term Dutch courage was derived.   

The production of gin soon erupted in England, and the government actually allowed unlicensed gin manufacturing, obviously not a coalition government. They say that by 1740 there were 15,000 watering holes in London and over half were what were known as Gin Shops. Gin at the time out sold beer!!!! It was considered quite the common or poor man’s drink. Again, another one of my beliefs that gin tends to be an upper-class choice- shot completely out of the water.

The government wisened up to the fact that London was getting on the smash via cheap gin and consequently imposed the Gin Act 1736; imposing higher taxes on retailers. The response was typically French- everyone went on a riot.

For the next couple of hundred years the majority of the gin production, certainly in London, was from illegal stills and sold primarily on the black market.

The advent of the popular mix of gin and tonic again wasn’t discovered in the U.K.  It was the adventurers, who forged the British Colonies, that used gin in vast quantities to mask the taste of quinine which at the time was the only effective anti malarial compound. The quinine was mixed with carbonated water plus a big slug of gin for good measure. Surprisingly today tonic water still contains quinine, however vastly reduced, yet this still doesn’t stop necking back a few G ‘n’ Ts when I’m in warmer climes.

Today gin or even a gin and tonic is recognised as a sophisticated wind down drink. Gordon’s is probably the most popular gin (without the help of that chef with the permanent tan and the very white teeth). However if you take a moment to look, we do a decent range of gins including Bombay, Hendricks and Plymouth. These all have a slightly different taste that certainly can increase your drinking pleasure.

While it’s there as a quaffing option, Champagne has always had that indulgent, opulent, special occasion connection for me. I was aware of its heritage and had a fair idea about the protection of the methode as well as the unique way it was made.

En route during my annual Italian road trip, our colleagues at Diageo kindly organised a visit to Domaine Pommery for me. The Satnav located the estate easily, just outside Reims. There was a proper whiff of affluence in the avenues that surrounded the grand entrances to Heisdeck, Laurent Perignon, Veuve Cliquot and Tattinger.

Through the gates and up the grand avenue we drove, parking was easy and in we went. We were greeted by Benedicte Lefevre, the European sales manager. Niamh (my daughter) was well impressed. We were given a quick overview of the history of the brand (it’s pronounced Pom-ree, was founded in 1867, and they have 20 million bottles stored in the caves below the domain – Holy fizzy biscuits!)

We were invited to descend a magnificent 130 step grand staircase into the caves below; many of these were carved out by the Romans and have been adapted for maturation and storage over the last two hundred years. There was an obvious musty smell but the 10 degree temperature was most pleasant. The scale is boggling. Shafts are named after scores of markets conquered in the 19th century, Manchester, Liverpool, Ulong Batoor, and St. Petersburg. There were bottles everywhere in all the classic sizes and various stages of readiness.

The tunnels were eerie but comfortable at the same time. Bottles were stacked scores high with only each other and the walls for support.

The rows went back for yards. I took these photos with a view to working out how many there were. Afterwards I noticed the helpful label. Prince Albert of Monaco has a private stash here, 36,000 bottles or so, and why not? As good a place to keep it as any I reckon.

They keep all the really old bottles here too. I really admired the sense of heritage and history, the pride of being the keeper of the methode champagnoise and its traditions. I expect that if Madame Pommery was as cute with her storage of cash as she was with her hoarding of the champagne, this may explain the reason for her business success. I have no doubt that this heritage and timeless quality will be still here in hundreds of years time.

Back up into the light we had a marvelous tasting of two of the marques; the Brut and the Rose. Fantastic. The fizz never tasted better to me. I will definitely think twice next time I see the glorious stuff being sprayed all over the pub’s ceiling.

Chocolate Sorbet

Serves 4-6

Ingredients:

165g Caster Sugar

75g Unsweetened Cocoa Powder

450ml Water

150g Dark Chocolate

Method:

Place the sugar and cocoa in a saucepan with 300ml of the water. Over a gentle heat stir until the sugar has dissolved, then increase the heat and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and stir in the chocolate until dissolved, then add the remaining 150ml of water, stirring in as you pour.

Fill the sink with 2cm-3cm of water and plunge the base of the pan into it. Allow the liquid to cool, whisking occasionally, for about 20 minutes, until it has returned to room temperature. Chill in the fridge for 2 hours.

Then place in the freezer for 4/5 hours, stirring every half an hour. (Or churn in an ice-cream maker if you have one). Then freeze for 2 hours to solidify. Serve soon after with a sprig of redcurrant, mint and an Almond Tuille.

It’s been a few weeks since my last update and with all the recent comings and goings I felt it would be inexcusable of me to not touch base with the blog.

At the end of last month we had a fabulous crowd of food writers, bloggers, industry types and technical bods enticed to our restaurant for an informal new dish tasting evening. Was lovely to meet so many interesting personalities and I’d like to thank every one who came down and gave their honest feedback on the dishes. We finished up in the back bar with the Irish musicians and everyone seemed to have had a ball. Dishes included:

Canapes to start

Starters

-Carpaccio of Mackerel, Anchovy Fritter, Basil Sorbet and Tomato Foam

-Duck and Quail Scotch Egg, Cumberland Sauce

-Seared Scallops and Black Pudding, Citrus Braised Baby Gem, Hazelnut and Courgette Salad

-Salad of Caramelised Figs, Dandelion, Yorkshire Blue, Roast Sweet Potato and Walnut Vinaigrette

Mains 

-Loin of Rabbit filled with Dublin Bay Prawns, Tarragon Mousse, Creamed Leeks, Sautéed Girolle Mushrooms and Peas

-Corn-fed Chicken and Morel Mushroom Pie, Truffled Celeriac Purée

-Baked Hake, Soft Herb Crust, Ratatouille, Saffron potatoes, Tapenade Velouté

-Aubergine Mozzarella, Polenta Gateaux, Roast Pepper Ragu

An assiette of the Ship’s desserts to finish

If you’d like to be included in the next event then please do contact me at ship@youngs.co.uk as there are some exciting things coming up.

Another note for your diaries is the British Food Fortnight which will run from the 18th September until the 3rd of October. http://tinyurl.com/3albpsz  Here at the Ship we’re not shy to get involved and are in the process of organising some typically British events including British themed menus, a British beer festival, afternoon tea and cake promotions, Morris dancers, British themed quiz nights, a whisky tasting event, a British Cheese Masterclass and of course British themed band nights.

We will also include a British themed riddle raffle for the menu holders in the restaurant as well as in the fishbowl in the Main Bar, make sure you take the time to enter as there will be great prizes to be won!

I’d like to thank the Guinea Grill, Mayfair, for their kind hospitality last Tuesday when our Management team descended on them for a special summer day out. Carl set us up in their historical board room and we overindulged in our four course set menu. No one could move when we finished. Highlights would have to include the not-for-the-faint-hearted steak as well as the delicious steak and kidney/ mushroom pies! We had a fantastic time and carried on into the night in high spirits. So thank you Carl and the Team at Guinea Grill.

Following a show stopping set from Nathan and Nico last night in the Main Bar we continue top class in-house entertainment this week with Irish Music in the Back Bar tomorrow at 8.30, Quiz in the Main Bar Wednesday at 8.30, Alex Dew from Northern Lights in Main Bar Thursday from 8.30 and Sam Blues kicking off Sunday’s session in the Main Bar at 8.30. This Sunday we also have the Rekorderlig reps down in the afternoon with their flashy new trailer, letting you sample the various innovative Swedish cider flavours, will be a Cider Sunday!

I’ll leave it there to give you a chance to digest…but if you require any further information please don’t hesitate to get in touch.

Em.

For information, Kevin is a long standing friend of ours and regular of The Ship.  A couple of weeks ago he emigrated again suddenly to Utah and sent us this. We love it. Thanks Kev. Oisin

Were there anyone else other than me here, you might say that the comment was intended for nobody in particular.

-          Jeez, boy, it’s awful quiet, isn’t it?

He’s right. It is awful quiet. I look up towards Richmond Bridge from my spot near the slipway. The guy in the ice-cream van looks bored.

It’s a Sunday evening in July and there are not a whole lot of people here at all.

-          Could make a cameo at the Ship, I suggest.

Eddie’s already half way up Waterman’s Lane. He has that look in his eye. I’ve seen it before.  We don’t quite make it to the station; he’s spotted one of his landlord buddies and the doorway is only very briefly darkened before he makes his presence felt inside.

-          Alright Eddie! Bloody quiet, ain’t it?

-          Ya! We were just down by that water and there’s nobody around at all, boy.

He’s in full flight. I get them in and don’t get involved.

I mind the gap as we’re getting off at Wandsworth Town. We negotiate the traffic and McDonald’s, sidle past the depot where the tour buses go when it’s time for bed, hang a left down toward the cement works and wonder how the hell the people who are filling the roadway at the end of Jews Row managed to find their way here in the first place. As I get closer, I notice that there’s some sort of a Persian rug spread out on the tarmac and a couple of leather couches sitting within Pimm’s pouring distance of each other.

I turn to pass comment to Eddie, but I just manage to catch sight of his chrome dome disappearing though the back door into the public bar.

I follow him and make it inside in time to see him nip in through the corridor bit, past the wines that are so good they have to be kept in a cage. By the time I make it through, he’s chatting to Charlie and Phil.

-          Howaryiz, lads, says Charlie. Jeez, it’s a bit quiet isn’t it?

There are a couple of tables left in the main bar and some kid in skinny jeans is in the process of moving one of them to replace it with a couple of guitar cases and an amp. It’s standing room only on the rug.

-          I think you’ve got just about all the pub trade in London, Charlie. It’s dead everywhere. What’s the story with the carpet?

-          Ah, ya know. Thought it might be a laugh. Had a couple of lamps and a TV out there but took them in because we thought it might rain, you know.

He scampers off behind the bar and starts polishing something, grins back in our direction. I’m not sure if he’s serious. Phil tosses his hair and wafts off somewhere. Eddie’s beaming.

-          Pint bottle of cider. No ice.

It’s getting dark, now. The place is buzzing. I’m buzzing. Eddie’s being controversial about something and I’m pretty sure he’s winding me up. The band can’t decide between posing and rock-and-rolling until the guitarist starts the intro of Sex on Fire. Emma’s sitting over the otherside of Charlie’s living room arrangement. She has lovely brown eyes and she’s a writer. That doesn’t seem to do it justice though. Writeuse. That’s more like it. I tell Eddie I’m going to the jacks and skip over to say hello. I don’t make the grand and witty entrance that I merit though, so I’m back a few minutes later. One of these days.

Oisin arrives down later for a late one. He’s particularly amused at what his staff have been up to with the carpet and the couches. I look around and realise everyone else is too, particularly the Brylcream and GHD couple who are sprawled out in full pizza-and-DVD mode. It starts when you get to the top of Jews Row and you realise you’ve stumbled upon the place where those red buses live, and by the time you get to the bottom, it’s all a bit lively and you feel a bit like you’re doing something your headmaster wouldn’t approve of.

It’s closing time, and I’ve almost a full pint of cider left. No rush- nobody’s going to swipe it and tell me to go home and iron my shirt for the morning. I look across to the writeuse and the bottle of wine and I formulate the witty observation or bon mot that I’ll leave until too late to deliver.

The phone rings a few days later, and a few days after that I’m stepping out of an airport into a blast of hot air that makes me turn my face away and fumble for my shades. Utah. No footpaths. Off licenses run by the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control. Can I see your ID, sir? The locals don’t recognise my accent and politely ask me where I’m from. I think if I told them I was from Alabama they’d believe me.

-          Ireland, I say.

-          Arr-lan?

-          No, Ireland.

-          Oh! Aye-yur-land! Is it as hot there as it is here during the summer?

It’s all about the service here. They have greeters at the supermarket who offer you a mobility scooter with built-in basket to carry your cheese and Cheerio’s and tell you that they already miss you as you leave. They’re mannerly and courteous and I might as well be from Mars.

I went out for my birthday last Wednesday. There were eleven choices on the menu, all but one contained cheese. I’ll have a number 3 with no cheese, I say. You bet, they say, but the chef forgets and puts cheese in anyway. Somebody told the staff about the birthday thing and all twelve of them had to leave their posts to surround my table and sing me the specially Iggy’s Sports’ Bar Birthday Song. There were no winners.

I couldn’t face the palaver tonight so I stayed in and I’m drinking light beer from a can and watching the sun go down over some scrubby sunburnt hills, waiting for the room to go dark before I fiddle with the air-con and lock the door to keep out the neo-cons. I could do with a pint. In a glass. In a real pub.

Serves 6

1 ½ Kilo of Monkfish Tails
Cajun Spice (for seasoning)
6 Tiger Prawns
300g Crayfish
1 Kilo Sweet Potato
1 Large Onion
3 Stalks of Celery
1 Carrot
2 Cloves of Garlic
200ml Fish Stock
50ml White Wine
300ml Double Cream
Chives (1tbspn)
Parsley (1 tbspn)
Chervil (1 tbspn)
50g Unsalted butter

Peel the onion, carrot, celery and garlic and dice them brunoise (1mm x 1mm). In a saucepan sweat all the previous vegetables for about 4 minutes on a small flame and add the wine. Turn the heating up and deglaze the wine (until absorbed into the vegetables). Add the fish stock and reduce by two thirds. Then add the cream and reduce by half. Season and finish with the crayfish, parsley, chives and chervil.

Peel the sweet potato and cut into 5mm cubes. Add them to a pan with the butter and season with salt, pepper and cook until soft. Be careful not to overcook as you want to be able to feel the pieces within the chowder. Add the potato to the chowder.

Remove the fillets from the Monkfish tails with a sharp knife. Divide into 6 portions and season with the Cajun spice, sea salt and white pepper.

Peel the prawns but try to leave the heads on, remove the spine.

Heat a large pan with olive oil, seal the monkfish from each side, add some butter and place in the oven at 250°C for 4 minutes.

In another hot pan with olive oil sauté the prawn until cooked.

On a serving dish place the sweet potato chowder on the middle of the plate, then slice the monkfish into 3 and place on the one side of the chowder so the prawn can sit on the other side, head up. Garnish with some fresh dill.

Serves 4

1 Tspn Honey
4 Large Fresh Figs
1 Large Sweet Potato Peeled and Diced (1cm x 1cm)
4 Sprigs of Thyme
100g Yorkshire Blue Cheese
12 Small Shallots Peeled
150g Mixed Leaf Salad (Preferred heart of Frisee, Dandelion, Little Gem, Lambs Lettuce – cut into small strips)

Dressing:

100g Walnuts
200ml Walnut Oil
100ml Olive Oil
4g Chopped Garlic
100ml Red Wine Vinegar
1 Large Teaspoon of Dijon Mustard

For cooking/ seasoning:

Maldon Sea Salt
Fresh Black Pepper
Olive Oil

Preheat the oven to 170° C. Pick the thyme and roughly chop then toss into a bowl with the sweet potato and baby shallots, and add a splash of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and place in a roasting tray. Roast in the oven for 20-25minutes. Make sure the vegetables are cooked but not over brown. Quarter the figs and drizzle with honey then grill until the honey begins to caramelise. Set both aside and let cool to just above room temperature.

Meanwhile, dice the cheese to a similar size as the sweet potato and make a dressing. To do so place the garlic, vinegar and mustard in a food processor and puree together; gradually adding the oils until they emulsify together. Lightly toast the walnuts and let them cool a little before roughly chopping and reserve. Drain the sweet potato on some kitchen paper. Toss the leaves, sweet potatoes, shallots and cheese in a bowl and pour in the walnut dressing. Mix up well and divide between 4 bowls. Dress each salad with the figs and chopped walnuts.

Jägermeister

The surprising thing about Jägermeister is that although we sell it in vast quantities this time of year (we sell more of it than Vodka, honest) and pretty much everyone has tried it in one form or another, not many people know exactly where it’s from or what it’s made of. Yes we know wine is made from grapes, beer from barley, hops yeast and water etc, etc, etc, but what about Jägermeister?

Well the name does sound very German and it is. Translated it means “Hunt-master”. It is produced in Wolfenbuttel, lower Saxony in North West Germany. The inventor was a guy called Curt Mast, who in 1935 was enthusiastic “hunter” (A German with a gun in north Germany in 1935 hmmmm, moving on) hence, the picture of the stag on the front of the bottle.

So what exactly is in Jägermeister and how do you make it? Well it’s pretty simple really. All you need to do is select 56 very secret herbs and spices (liquorice, citrus peel, poppy seeds, saffron, ginger, juniper berries and saffron should start you off, the rest you’ll have to work out is through trial and error). Grind them down and steep in water with some added alcohol for about 2-3 days. Filter the mixture into a large oak barrel (easy to come across those) and store for about a year. I should mention that if you are following this recipe, such as it is, a bit of forward thinking and probably a lot of patience is necessary.

When the year has passed, simply filter the mixture from the large oak barrel, mix in sugar, caramel, water and a bit more alcohol for good measure and Voila/Prost Jägermeister.

Describing the taste of Jägermeister is a bit tricky. The first time I tried it (almost 15 years ago when I was a scruffy 18 year old glass collector) was like having a completely different shot experience. It didn’t leave you with a sickly sweet aftertaste that masked the vast amount of alcohol consumed, like for example Sambuca or other fruit based shots. It almost has a burnt finish and gives an immediate warmth and glow to the chest and stomach. The best way I can describe it to a person who has never tried it (not many of you out there anymore) is like an alcoholic Benylin. Harsh, if not revolting, but somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s doing you some good.

Up until possibly 8 or 9 years ago, Jägermeister was always a bottle found on the back bar of a pub collecting dust or hidden in the back of the bar fridge. It wasn’t overly popular, an acquired taste to be sure. Tequila or Sambuca were the weapons of choice when someone in a group shouted for shots. This, however all changed with the invention of Red Bull (queue the angelic choir singing hallelujah). Suddenly one of the greatest pairings the world has ever seen had been discovered! (Think Lennon and Mccartney, Torvill and Dean, Cannon and Ball, Posh and Becks… well maybe not the last one.)

The Jägerbomb was born, and the rest they say is history. Doing a Jägerbomb has become an essential part of any Ship experience. With Red Bull not only diluting (if only slightly) the big hit of alcohol, sweetening the harsh bitter aftertaste but furthermore giving a big dollop of caffeine for your trouble. The Jägerbomb popularity for me stems from the fact that unlike other harsh spirits knocked back in one – this one isn’t. It’s almost a pleasant, sociable drink experience (yes I love Red Bull too). This means that it transcends genders. It isn’t a macho male drinking past time, women are just as likely to order these little pinkish coloured liquid miracles as men would.

As a final thought, I mentioned earlier forward thinking/planning is the key to enjoying Jägermeister in any shape or form. If you are planning on consuming a few of these while dancing on a table listening to the band blare out their version of “Mr Brightside” on a Sunday night in the Ship – please do think of the repercussions of your actions come Monday morning at the place of work. Because looking at the latest un-employment figures, few rarely do.

Monday 12th July

Sat in an orange Netherlands’ shirt, with a front row seat next to the riverside, a Spanish supporter showed her true loyalty to her Dutch friend by muffling her strong Spanish roots. The atmosphere was intense, there were more Spanish/ Dutch fans than previously imagined and all shoulder-to-shoulder in what was a large space but quickly resembled a chicken coup. A brightly coloured one. With beer. A LOT of beer.

This was of course the Ship last night and I was the orange t-shirted individual embracing it. With staff hailing from both the World Cup nations in headlock, the personal emotions surrounding me were not subtle.

Through the game resulting in extra time due to a severe lack of goals, Spain managed to steal the cup, mere minutes before the dreaded ‘penalties’ would have decided their fate. The entire Ship garden and bar areas had been transfixed and even the Sunday night band, a weekly favourite, didn’t crack into their repertoire until Andres Iniesta had made sure Spain were the World Champions.

Almost Famous brought the house (conservatory) down and after an evening of nail biting infuriation, shots became the beverage of choice last night. It was a truly brilliant evening, with a perfect summer sunset to conclude our world cup events in a climatic finish. Thank you to everyone who came down over the last month to support their country, we had so much fun sharing it with you.

Tonight, although a tad out of the blue, we have a different type of live music and in our garden area no less. A 16 piece big band is swinging by and will be performing their sets from 8pm. There’s nothing quite like a change, and I must admit I’m quite intrigued by the concept of such a large band after years of housing duos.

Tomorrow, Osh and I will be paying the Imbibe drinks exhibition in Earl’s Court a visit. Give us a tweet @shipwandsworth if you will be popping down as we’d love to say hi.

We regret to inform you that Sugar T and the Swells have cancelled for the coming weekend, we may have another band TBC, though weather depending. Tomorrow the Irish lads return to the back bar, they are getting some hefty attention these days, Wednesday James Punnett’s quiz and Thursday the legendary Alex Dew. All 8.30 starts, table reservations welcomed.

See you soon,

Emma

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