Boy! That was not as simple as we had thought!! As probably everyone who's done something similar knows, preparing for a supper club night is not even close to what you have in mind when you set off on this adventure. Contrary to simply cooking for a group of your friends, hosting a supper club dinner is a performance: things have to happen at a certain time and they have to happen in the right way the first time, especially if you are hosting a supper club with entertainment, like us.
As we have stated before, φ is all about doing everything from raw ingredients: we kneaded the dough for our bread on Sunday morning; we bought the best-quality dry-aged sirloin we could find in London; the vegetables were hand-selected from Church Street Market on Saturday; the ice-cream was actually made from milk and eggs two days in advance. All recipes were our own and even our entertainer, Avgoustinos, played his own songs (for the first time!).
We welcomed our guests with homemade bread and two kinds of olive oil that foreshadowed the starter and main. The starter, a hot and numbing bean soup that had been slow-boiling for almost two days was our take on the traditional Greek fasolada, inspired by a Sichuan bean-based hotpot we love. The concept for our main was an inside-out stir-fry: our roast was injected with our beer-based marinade and slow-cooked to medium rare. We served it with caramelized onions with juniper, mash of potato and beetroot with a hint of wasabi, roasted seasonal British winter vegetables, and a simple crispy green salad to quietly refresh our guests. The dessert was our halva ice cream with pieces of halva, served on ice-cream cones (yes, we made those ourselves too) with two warm sesame biscuits for a gentle contrast of temperature. Finally, while Avgoustinos was playing his last songs, we served chocolate branches with chocolate covered mint leaves, and 'flowers' of
rasberries with petals made out of chocolate covered orange peel.
As we have stated before, φ is all about doing everything from raw ingredients: we kneaded the dough for our bread on Sunday morning; we bought the best-quality dry-aged sirloin we could find in London; the vegetables were hand-selected from Church Street Market on Saturday; the ice-cream was actually made from milk and eggs two days in advance. All recipes were our own and even our entertainer, Avgoustinos, played his own songs (for the first time!).
We welcomed our guests with homemade bread and two kinds of olive oil that foreshadowed the starter and main. The starter, a hot and numbing bean soup that had been slow-boiling for almost two days was our take on the traditional Greek fasolada, inspired by a Sichuan bean-based hotpot we love. The concept for our main was an inside-out stir-fry: our roast was injected with our beer-based marinade and slow-cooked to medium rare. We served it with caramelized onions with juniper, mash of potato and beetroot with a hint of wasabi, roasted seasonal British winter vegetables, and a simple crispy green salad to quietly refresh our guests. The dessert was our halva ice cream with pieces of halva, served on ice-cream cones (yes, we made those ourselves too) with two warm sesame biscuits for a gentle contrast of temperature. Finally, while Avgoustinos was playing his last songs, we served chocolate branches with chocolate covered mint leaves, and 'flowers' of
rasberries with petals made out of chocolate covered orange peel. 
Irene is particularly peculiar about food and trying out with her this popup restaurant we heard so much about was surely going to be... an experience. Our first dining experience with her and Stefanos, her fiancé, was in Rome where we went on a carb-devouring frenzy for a few days and had her cringe in horror at the sights of Roman classics like Trippa alla Romana and Rigatoni con Pajata (a dish with small intestines of suckling lamb and ewe's milk cheese at Checchino dal 1887). But we digress..
