Secret supper club

Amongst the various food related ephemerae I get in my inbox, one email newsletter I recently subscribed to was Hubbub Deliveries, a service which specialises in delivering fresh, organic produce from a range of shops in the Highbury area. Despite having subscribed, I hadn't actually got round to organising a delivery yet, but enjoyed the various emails I received, informing me about all the latest produce and news each of the shops had.



On Friday, however, I opened my inbox to find a short email telling me that a secret supper club in Islington had had some cancellations, and spare places were available on a first come, first served (pardon the pun) basis. I jumped at the chance, having read about the concept of secret supper clubs online, and assuming that they were highly exclusive events that I would never be invited to myself. I quickly consulted E, and then dashed off an email to say that we were most certainly interested, if the places were still going. Delightfully, they were, and our places were confirmed. We were given a quick precis of the menu, which sounded delicious, and fitted both of our likes, dislike and allergies, and instructions to turn up at an address on Saturday evening, and we would discover all about it from there.



Feeling somewhat trepidous, E and I set off for the venue, not entirely sure what to expect. What would we find? Who would be there? Was it some form of elaborate trap to kidnap us, ship us overseas and send us off to work in the Siberian salt mines?



When we arrived, we were very warmly greeted at the door of a beautiful modern flat by J, one of the hosts of the evening, with her partner, Lex, she of the food blog Lex Eat!, who would be providing us with our feast for the evening. We heaved a sigh of relief as our visions of pickaxes and salt mines vanished into the ether, and were led into their delightful house to meet our fellow diners, and were presented with a glass of Muscato to sip while making introductions. Our cohorts were a range of people, most from the Islington area, who had heard of the supper club through Lex's blog, and were interested by the accounts of the previous event, this being the second time Lex had tried her hand at a supper club.



Once acquainted, we sat down at the table, a length of different tables which had been put end to end in the main area of the flat, and had been covered with brown wrapping paper, and was covered by delightful handwritten notes to explain various dishes, the role of certain pieces of cutlery, an other helpful annotations. What's more, we had been equipped with pots of coloured pencils with which to provide our own scribbles. Needless to say, by the end of the evening, my section of table was somewhat covered in my random scrawl.



Whilst waiting for our courses and chatting, we were provided with bowls of popcorn, covered in dry pesto to keep ourselves going - a deliciously different idea which I'd never seen before. The first course arrived, a delightful sweet potato and caramelised onion thick-consistency soup, with a healthy dollop of more pesto on top, which had E, a sworn enemy of sweet potato, recanting her beliefs, and swearing to try more in the future. The soup was served with delicious warm rolls which were an amazing consistency, and went incredibly well with the soup, and made sure every morsel was cleared from the bowls.



Each couple visiting had been asked to bring a bottle of wine, and so we has duly equipped ourselves with a bottle of Austrian sweet wine, which went marvellously with the meal, and was complemented nicely by the Muscato at the start, and another sweet wine we were offered at the end of the meal.



The main course was a rolled roast style duck with cavalo nero and new potatoes, which was deliciously tender, and provided me with a good indication of how one should treat vegetables such as kale and cavalo. Sadly, I was entirely caught up in conversation to remember to photograph this, but we were provided with not only our own plates, but also a large serving dish of extra, should we feel we hadn't been given enough (I'd love to see that kind of service at a west-end restaurant!). Suffice to say, we were more than happy with what we'd been given, and contented ourselves with chatting with our fellow diners.



The dessert was in three parts, presented on glazed black wall tiles, and came in the form of a chocolate and olive oil tart, a small pot containing a deliciously tart lemon posset, and a cube of upside down pear cake, the combination of which was quite magical, and had us all clutching our stomachs, stating how full we were. We found that this, however, wasn't the last of it, as one of our number had a birthday that evening, and was presented with a turkish delight cheesecake, topped with pomegranate candyfloss to celebrate. Some brave souls managed to squeeze some of this delightful confection in, but I must admit it was this point I had to concede defeat.



Tea and coffee were served, and Lex and J came around the table to chat with us all, taking time to meet and talk to each of us, and it was this that I personally feel made the evening the absolute success that it was; going to eat fantastic home-cooked food with a bunch of strangers is quite fun and exciting, but doing it in a delightfully convivial atmosphere, with tablecloths you can scribble on, delightfully kitsch decor, with genial and generous people running it made it feel much more than the average restaurant-type experience. It wasn't long before E and I had to leave, as we felt we would drop off our chairs in a collective happy food coma, but we certainly left with smiles on our faces, and even filled the journey home with discussions about good food and dinner parties. Massive thank you's to our hosts, and, should any of you get the chance, do go along, if Lex decides to hold any more!