A hold on my heart: Glorious Fool (1981) - John Martyn

I am always surprised that so few people know who John Martyn is, but then again I stumbled on him quite by accident. I was 16, in the now defunct Tower Records purchasing some albums on one of their price busting but ludicrous record deals (it was something like five for £30.00, madness!) and to make up the five I took a gamble on an album cover I thought tasteful, without really paying attention to the artist. I was also intrigued as my uncle is call John Martyn and I thought that this could have been a distant relation. The album was Grace and Danger and whilst this John Martyn was sadly not part of my family I was blown away by this incredibly somber and heartfelt album. Soon after I read more about him and bought his other ‘classics’ Solid Air and One World - both great albums in their own rite but not a scratch on Grace and Danger.

By the time I went to university Martyn had become a bit of an artistic stick to beat my more indie friends with who thought I was only about Phil Collins and Don Henley. I was surprised they were not familiar with him and they were surprised when they took a listen that I wasn’t all 80s synth and drum machines. As I listened to the booze soaked cuts like ‘Hurt in your heart’ and ‘Some people are crazy’ I thought that this couldn’t be topped... until I purchased Glorious Fool.

There are not many remakes that I can say that I truly enjoy but Martyn’s harmonic driven re-interpretation of his own ‘I couldn’t love you more’ is a masterpiece with lush building instrumentation, a haunting solo by Eric Clapton and some fantastic fretless bass work. This theme carries through a very atmospheric and subdued album which echoes but builds fantastically on Grace and Danger, the preceding album.

Okay, i will admit that it is produced by one of Martyn’s friends and long time collaborators, Phil Collins, but this is one of his most sympathetic productions which really emphasises the geniuses of Martyn and brings his versatile style and technique to the fore. This is no more apparent when you listen to the stark and incredibly bleak ‘Hearts and Keys’ (a personal favourite) which sounds almost other-worldly. Other standouts include the romantic ‘Hold on my heart’ and the frantic, conga lead ‘Didn’t do that’.

This is a very introspective but very powerful album which find Martyn - oft accused of lack of clarity - with his voice at its very best, credit should go to Collins for this who supplies some very good backing vocal to augment the artists idiosyncratic timbre and pitch. 

Voice on the radio: Take My Time (1980) - Sheena Easton

1980 was an important turning point in music in which the UK really got to grips with the growing interesting in new wave and electronic music. One of the great pioneers of this genre was the Italian producer Gorgio Moroder who had distinguished himself throughout the late 1970s with a string of hit collaborating with Donna Summer and Sparks as well as the pulsing soundtrack to Alan Parker's Midnight Express. However for me, and I am sure many others, his crowning glory was his work with a young Sheena Easton on her oft overlooked and highly impressive debut album.

Packed full of immediately hummable pop tunes are generously drenched in Moroder's complex synthesisers and drum machine, but here they work well which is more than can be said by the many imitators who were to copy her style over the next decade. The stand-out tracks are of course the hits 'Modern Girl' which has some powerful vocals and a very pleasing (if very dated) synth solo and of course her transatlantic smash 'Morning Train (9 to 5)' - which many people are surprised to find out was one of the late DJ John Peel's favourite records! Even if you haven't heard any other Easton tracks then I can guarantee that you have heard this one so often is it used in sitcoms to illustrate when a usually redundant character attempts to hold down a steady job (usually punctuated by humorous pitfalls and pratfalls).

The overriding reason that this album is so strong is through some very fine song writing and some very interesting arrangement, this record was not about pushing new boundaries, it was about delivering a strong product. Legendary song writing team Bugatti & Musker contribute a couple of tracks (including 'Modern Girl'). There is also a powerhouse rhythm section  and fantastic backing vocals grounding the album and makes for many danceable numbers which is certainly what this album was recorded for - this album is so upbeat you cannot help but smile whilst listening to it! You can almost imagine Eddie Shoestring playing during his fictitious Private Ear show on Radio West between receiving calls about wrongs doings in the Bristol area.

Of course, Easton would go on to have a number of other hits, such as 'For Your Eyes Only' (1981) from the soundtrack of the Bond film with the same name, the highly controversial 'Sugar Walls' with its infamous music video which so upset Mrs Al Gore and of course her turn in Miami Voice as Crockett's ill-fated girlfriend. However it was here, when she was fresh to the industry - as discovered by Esther Rantzen of all people  that I think she was best, that is why I am very happy to give this album a well deserved 8/10 and strongly advise that you purchase this record!

Love's great fears: Raintown - Deacon Blue (1987)

1987 was a great time for many things including the birth of yours truly in that turbulent and blustery November, however a vintage year for music it was not. Having a look at a laughably dated compilation LP I own from that year, here are a pick of the pops from The Hits Album 7: 'Strong as Steel' - Five Star; 'Funky Town' - Pseudo Echo; 'Bridge to your heart' - Wax… need I say more. Of course there were some glimmers of light in the darklands of a market flooded by Stock, Aitken and Waterman's monotonous drum machine riffs. Albums like Prince's Sign O' The Times, Eric B & Rakim's Paid in Full and Jesus & Mary Chains's Darklands were rightly praised for their creativity in such a poor market, one such album that is often overlooked from this period and should be given some fresh recognition is the inventive and beautifully crafted Raintown by the Glaswegian group Deacon Blue.

Something of a concept album, Raintown  opens with the sombre, brooding 'Born in a Storm' making good use of echoed vocals and sparse keyboards before building to the fast paced, dramatic and forceful title track - giving an aural depiction of Scotland's second city. Most of the tracks talk of social trouble, destitution and the need for escapism in an unforgiving and harsh environment. Nowhere is this more felt than in two of the album's more successful tracks: 'Ragman' and 'Dignity'. The latter is joyously pretentious but is laden with fantastic hooks and a rising chorus. Ricky Roos has a fantastic, raspy voice which give this album so much character, even on the more slushy numbers like 'Chocolate Girl'.

Perhaps I have been a little unjust about 1987 for having listened to this offering I have since discovered that the Glasgow music scene was pretty exciting in 1987. Albums such as this one, Wet Wet Wet's debut (and only worthy) album Popped in, souled out and

Returning to the Album, my favourite track, if I was to choose one would be the tour de force, romantic ballad, 'Love's Great Fears'. The guest guitar solo from the ever reliable Chris Rea is one of the best on any album I own or have had the fortune/misfortune to listen to. Deacon Blue's great advantage was have two very strong lead vocalists (Ross and Lorraine McIintosh) and a really upbeat rhythm section. Each track on this album is interesting if not a joy to listen to, the final track on the album 'Town to be blamed' is so incredibly bleak that it would be more appropriate on one of Pink Floyd's later albums than on Raintown, in fact it almost derails the whole album - if I had been in the band's position I would have left it off. This is a mighty shame as the album, up to this end point, is so consistent and successful in balancing hard social issue in Glasgow, with more upbeat, optimistic and radio friendly material. However this is mere taste more than anything else and as the rest of the album is so good I can happily forgive it this blip.

As such I am going to give Raintown an impressive and deserved 9/10 for I feel that it both captures a very exciting time in Scotland's music scene!

Bad Habits...

I was in Waitrose this evening when I was exposed to the worst piece of nanny-statism that I have seen for years and a sad indicator that times are changing as freedom of choice is once again restricted. I don't want to sound like an ungrateful fellow for there are plenty of fantastic freedoms in UK society yet every now and again the tyranny of the minority seems to triumph. Viz magazine runs a fantastic cartoon called 'Meddlesome Ratbag' every now and again and I think this very much encapsulates the antagonists of this tale. 

I am not a heavy smoker (although I do enjoy the occasional cigar) and I do not smoke cigarettes but I do appreciate people's rights to smoke them without being treated as social pariahs. It seems that in the last 10 years that there has been a systematic effort to make outcasts of the smoking population and pour scorn onto their habit.

Since the ban of smoking in public places more and more measures have been introduced to make it more inconvenient for people to enjoy a cheeky ciggie. The latest is a measure to keep cigarettes hidden from public view which strikes me as the most cynical, ludicrous and highly ineffective method of preventing people from smoking. It goes hand in hand with the misconception that young people are drawn to cigarettes because of the packet rather than the contents! Surely proper checks on ID should be enough to ensure that people underage do not smoke and if they do smoke then it is more than likely they will purchase their cigs from an underground source rather than from behind the counter. 

To make matters worse, the legislation to effectively banish smokers to the great outdoors has, to my mind, accounted for a rise in litter on the streets and in antisocial behaviour as more and more people take their drinks outside and seek to engage passing pedestrians in their woes or their desire for a bit of argy bargy. I can almost hear someone cry 'think of the children', but frankly I don't think a child should be in a licenced pub after 18:00! Of course people want to enjoy their pints but then again I feel that I enjoyed my pint much more when smokers both masked disgusting smell of stale, cheap alcohol and also managed to keep some of the more rowdy customers in the bar rather than out causing trouble on the pavement - however you might say the latter is still true now, I just rely on memory and a little nostalgia! 

I know that smoking is not good for people's health but then again neither is eating a bag of cheesy Wotsits or drinking a couple of Gin and Tonics, and I make very sure that I do not smoke in front of children or any other person who might have an aversion to it  - unless it is in a well ventilated area. But for me what makes this who meddling in smoker's affairs even worse is that  are large number of the legislators who make the rulings on this are smokers to a man/woman. I once saw a politician wolfing down a big mac and sucking away on a Marlboro Red as if their life depended on it…oh the hypocrisy! 

This piece is not trying to reverse any law because we all know that this will never happen, even if Nick Clegg did admit that he was partial to the odd smoke or two. I just get a little bit weary of the effectiveness of minority campaigns which seem to preach that, because they don't approve of something nobody else should be allowed to enjoy themselves doing it. This is not just confined to smoking, however it serves as a good example of a sad habit that seems to be gripping the nation! 

Sketches from a cigar smokers album: Volume 2

Sat in my kitchen listening to Jeff Beck's fantastic There and Back (1980) I am taken to one of the greatest cigar challenges of my life. Like Beck's harsh album of guitar instrumentals, the Cohiba Churchill 2003 Edition that I smoked whilst on holiday in Rome was a hard hitting affair, packed full of rich flavours and an assault on the mental senses. 

It had been given to my father as a present and, as he had chosen to give up smoking a number of months ago, it found its way in to my possession on the provision that I consumed it whilst we were in the Italian capital. Not wanting to disappoint I lit up on the afternoon we were there after a filling lunch of antipasti, artichokes and a plate of parpadelle con funghi washed down with a questionable white (not unpleasant but of goodness knows what origin!). 

Dangerous and seductive, like the femme fatale out of an old Kirk Douglas or Robert Mitchum film, it remained consistent throughout its lifespan, before being extinguished with quite dignity. This was not a smoke for the faint hearted and worked well against the various glasses of differing grappa that the proprietor - who looked like she had been a fun-loving and racy lady in her past - providing a healthy mix of fire and brimstone. 

The mark of a good cigar is that it remains consistent throughout the smoke and nowhere is this more true than with the renowned Cohiba. I would be lying if I said it was my favourite roll (that accolade will alway go to Bolivar) but it was a magical smoke and given the situation, drink accompaniment and company a memorable consumption!

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It might come as a surprise to all and sundry that I am not the greatest adherent of religious holidays, to me they are fantastically convenient and much welcomed days off in a sea of intense work! Nowhere is this more true than 'Good Friday' and it rather makes me that it is sad that we do not have more public holidays of Fridays. Certainly, I feel that they would be more welcome that Mondays (not that I am complaining to much). 

In one of those bizarrely delightful turn of events I managed to convince 6 good friends to come and share the delights of a Frida free from work partaking in a good meal, followed by a much needed session in one of the many watering holes that surround historic Wimbledon Common. 

For this occasion a lighter, but prestigious cigar was required to celebrate the season and the Romeo e Julieta  that I picked did the afternoon justice. Standing outside the ever-reliable Hand in Hand and the Crooked Billet I puffed away as I sank a few pints of Wandle Brewery's excellent Junction a rich, darker and maltier version of their popular and equally good Wandle. 

Romeo e Julieta cigars remain a popular choice with many friends and foe (not that I have too many), and it is easy to see why, they have a lighter finish that most and do not require too much effort to smoke. They also have remarkable value for money compared to other Havana cigars, due to their fantastic longevity maintaining a remarkably solid ash for a good period of time.

What could be better on a public holiday? Good company, great booze and the best company that a Bloody Good Chap could hope for? I thoroughly recommend each and every one of you try it sometime for, in the long term such moments are so fleeting you cannot help but welcome them with open arms. 

Cordon Du Chap: Tell me more, tell me more, tell me Al Moro!

Al Moro 

Rome

Cordon Du Chap (out of a possible five) : ❁❁❁❁❁❁ (I have broken my own rating system, it was that good!!)

There are a few places in Rome that are well kept secrets for a reason, they are the places that the city financiers and political elites like to go for a quite lunch to discuss whatever major deal or policy initiative might be in the offing. Al Moro is such a place. Tipped off by an executive friend of mine as one of the best places to eat in the heart of Rome I was expecting big things as I had heard that restaurants in Rome can either be excellent or distinctly mediocre… I was not disappointed. 

I had added pressure a very important family member - who incidentally was treating me to this holiday - to their 60th birthday meal and I  wanted to make sure that I had chosen somewhere worthy of such an important milestone. 

Set in a backstreet just off the Trevi Fountain, Al Moro looks rather unassuming and you would be forgiven for walking past it if your were unfamiliar with its fabulous food. However, should you go do be warned that you might want to wear a jacket and tie. Luckily my companion and I were able to feign the ignorance of British tourists and got away with our polo shirts and jeans - but I think that our excellent (if canny) waiter, Vincenzo, realised that we were going to be spending a bit of Monday. 

We were seated in the dining room, which was starting to fill up with all manner of besuited business men and women looking forward to their lunchtime repasts. After the obligatory Campari and Soda, beautifully prepared with a mere splash of soda and a slice of blood orange, we moved onto the Gavi de Gavi (a pleasantly dry Italian white - this one was excellent) and our starters. 

To begin with I had a plate of expertly sliced Culatello di Zibello, which had a beautiful balance of sweet and salt, working well against the Gavi. My dining companion had a comprehensive plate of antipasto misto. For all those uncouth individuals that think this fist course rather unadventurous, antipasti done well is a different beast in Italy compared to the rather uninspiring collations served up to punters in the UK. I tried some of the Corollina salami and I must say it was one of the best examples of the sausage that I have savoured. 

We moved onto the primi piatti and on this we took the recommendation of the house, their take on the much abused classic, spaghetti carbonara. Let's just say that this was the best Carbonara that I have ever had, and I do not exaggerate. Succulent pancetta played against perfectly al dente spaghetti coated in a delicious combination of parmesan and egg yolk. A cleverly sized portion merely whetted the appetite rather than extinguish it. 

Double veal followed, my dining compadre had a sumptuously decadent Osso Bucco Bianco with creamed potatoes. In a rich vegetable sauce the slowly cooked shin of veal literally melted in the mouth and the scant scoop of bone marrow was a taste sensation - it was shared with great reluctance! For my part I had an excellent plate of veal escalopes with thinly sliced artichokes in a faintly lemony sauce, each mouthful was more delicious than the last and it was with great sadness that I finished my plate. We accompanied this hearty and filling food with a great Niebollo (don't ask me what it was, but needless to say it was delicious and perfectly matched the meat). 

By this stage I was feeling almost full to the rafters, but I have always been someone who likes a challenge and when my guest suggested a half-bottle of Amarone and a plate of Italian Cheeses I found it hard to resist. A 2007 Masi Contasera - I am sure the expert critics are rather particular than I am - was excellent and coped well against the strong cheeses offered. To be honest, by this stage I was nearing the end of threshold and I could feel my stomach trying to compete for space with the button on my jeans! 

The meal was rounded off in true style with a generous glass of grappa (for those of you that are not familiar with it, this a rocket fuel-like liquor from Friuli made from the skins of the grapes used in the wine making process) and a fortifying double espresso - my milk-loving companion had a Macchiato! 

We staggered out of the restaurant under the sheer weight of all the food we had consumed, but we were contented and the portions had been just the right amount on each plate. We were happy and satisfied rather than bloated and disappointed. I can, with much confidence say that this is one of the best meals that I have ever eaten. And, whilst on face value the bill was on the large side, it was worth it for the excellent service, the fabulous food and the true atmosphere of a country that still knows how to appreciate a good business lunch - even if they find the occasional tourist to happen upon Al Moro as a minor inconvenience! 

On a final note, I have left the Address block blank on this occasion as I fear that to reveal the precise location would be to spoil the slightly secluded air that this place maintains in one of the busiest tourist districts in Italy's capital. They do have a website, but you will have to investigate this yourself... I have already said too much! 

Please sir, I want less…

There seems to be a scourge wracking its way through the eating establishments of Great Britain these days… the size of the portions. 

Whilst I am not adverse to the fantastic food revolution that this green and pleasant land has undergone over the last 20 years, it seems to have been coupled with the serving of wasteful, gargantuan portions masquerading under the false tags of 'hearty', 'rib-sticking' and 'wholesome'. This is entirely misleading and more often than not I have been to gastropubs and restaurants where a large number of plates leave the table still piled with food. In the words of the lawyer from Pink Floyd's Rock-pera The Wall  (1979) 'This will not do!'.

As much as I find the change for life campaign terribly patronising, they have a very important point about cutting down meal sizes to healthy portions. It seems that this point has passed over a number of establishments. 

The way a number of eateries present a plate with a large cut of very rich meat (giving the false impression that more ingredient makes it more worth your hard earned cash) and then an unreasonable portion of vegetables (kale, spring greens or some other ruffage rich and toothy leaf) and a stodgy carbohydrate (the current trend seems to be a root vegetable mash). The classic fayre of ye old England, some might say and whilst I do not deny that many of these dishes are cooked with finesse, the result is a heart clogging heap of food which most people cannot manage and a withering look from a waiter when you don't finish it. 

I am not trying to suggest that we go back to the times of Novelle Cuisine (or the bastardisation of it) but let's bring a bit of moderation into the restaurant industry and set on a size that the average person can realistically finish. Whilst I like British root vegetables, I do not need a whole bag of parsnips on my plate to prove it! Nor do I need half a kilo of pork belly to get the satisfaction i need from this delicious cut of meat!

Take a leaf out of the chef Bruce Poole, who, at this restaurant Chez Bruce has managed to obtain the perfect balance of flavour and quantity without leaving the customer either too hungry or too full. 

Sketches from a cigar smokers album

I should feel a wretch for adapting the title of my favourite author's debut, especially for a pastime that so many find so socially abhorrent…but I don't. These sketches, the first collection in what I hope will be many, will perhaps provide some fun, witty and informative vignettes of why I enjoy the occasional cigar! (in due course these will be moved to the cigar specific page!)

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I'm sorry, but there is no substitute, admirable imitations - yes worthy contenders - but in truth, nothing beats the magic of a Cuban cigar. Anyone who has read this blog will have seen my account of a trip made by a good pal and yours truly to the cigar lounge at the Lanesborough Hotel. There really is nothing like smoking a Siglo I Cohiba in the warming atmosphere of a deep armchair by a roaring fire whilst the ice chinks away in a crystal tumbler filled with one of the establishments finely made Negronis. 

Myths, legends and the like surround what makes a Havana so special. It could be the climate, the soil the tobacco plant grows in, the fermentation process or the way they are made in Cuba under such strict conditions. Whatever it may be, they are delicious and well worth the price tag they command. 

Hand made, artisan products are coming back into fashion and I would like to champion the cigar. Perhaps, if I make some money, somewhere down the line (doubtful), I will put the proceeds into building a temperature controlled greenhouse and curing room and produce some exclusive 'Henry Rubinstein' British cigars. Perhaps I'll inspire a revolution, Sainsbury's might start a Taste the Difference range, Tesco a Finest…. here's to entrepreneurial dreaming!

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The other Sunday, a Montecristo came to mind. After a fine lunch of roasted shoulder of lamb with all the trimmings nothing seemed more fitting than a Montecristo No. 2 and a glass of ice cold Cointreau. I had recorded the Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas classic Out of the past and sat down to watch it. 

The cigar was sublime, as said above there is no substitute for Cuban. Montecristos have a mild and characteristically dry finish - savoury and light. This is a perfect compliment to the dense, citrusy sugariness of the Cointreau. This format (No. 2) is my favourite of the range as it gives a longer smoke than the smaller Coronas and Petit Coronas which, due to their dry nature burn relatively quickly. Possibly the most prolific global cigar brand along with Cohiba, this to my mind is the perfect place to start and I would thoroughly recommend it to a beginner  before embarking on harder formats likeBolivar and Romeo y Julieta which are moister, denser and slower burning. 

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CAO is not a label that most people think of when it comes to prime cigar smoking. A boutique American producer, running events and producing an array of cigars using a blend of tobaccos from the world over apart from of course Cuba. At JFK airport I came across a sampler pack of their wares. As a keen and enthusiastic cigar smoker  - if not an efficianado - I brought the pack to see if the Yanks could produce a world beater. 

I was delightfully surprised by the fantastic Brazilian offering coupled with a few delicious, ice cold bottles of Mexican lager. I had put the cult classic Vanishing Point (see post: Film for Thought - Vanishing Point 11/01/2011) and all the elements fell together to make for an enjoyable, relaxed evening in front of the goggle box. Rich but not too heavy with a long ash, like the accompanying film - a slow burner but definitely worth the cheap price I paid for them. 

For other drinking alternatives should you prefer something stronger, a smooth blended whisky like Canadian Club or J&B. If you pass through duty free and you see some of these in the humidor, then I thoroughly recommending buying a box of five. 

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Christmastime seems like a distant memory now, but a time of cheer it surely is and to my mind a time for a Bolivar of gargantuan proportions. They say it is the time of year that people need to treat themselves and there is plenty of need for that in these austere times. I'm sure that our dear leaders Cleggers and Cameron both enjoy chomping on a Cohiba at their local watering hole (secretly) or after the kids have gone to bed. 

In this case a vintage port would come in handy, perhaps with a nice reblechon and a cup of strong black coffee. Last year it was a fantastic, if slightly maderised 1949 Fonseca, not a year of note - according to Michael Broadbent - but certainly a fantastic drink, and a slice of our history. Served, of course,  in Waterford port glasses out of a grossly inappropriate (and illegally leaded) Czech crystal decanter!

The cigar itself is a project alone, with 5-6 hours of smoking time, dense smoke and almost overwhelming richness, this is not an undertaking for the faint heart or those with weak constitutions. 

Cordon Du Chap: The curry house you always remember the next morning...

Ahmed's Tandoori

2 The Broadway

Wimbledon

SW19 1RF

Cordon Du Chap (out of a possible five): ❁ (❁❁❁❁ - for nothing if not the company!!)

Wimbledon has never been somewhere famed for great curries, the 'Indian Gossip' (round the corner from where I live) is a competent if uninspiring restaurant which does a nice Manchurian chicken, a tasty lamb tikka and not much else - it is also ruinously expensive (a trait that it shares with most other similar restaurants in the neighbourhood). Of course there are some unmentionably bad takeaways serving the important purpose for droves of half-cut executives returning home around the 22:30 mark on a Thursday/Friday night…I've been there a few times before!

Then there are the curry houses that gain a cult status through regular - if somewhat resigned - visitation (chiefly due to its proximity to the Prince of Wales) by a group of locals, Ahmed's Tandoori is one such place. 

The two mates who I go with to this establishment virtually twisted my arm to give this place a review, such is their sentimentality for the unique atmosphere that this place has to offer. I would be lying if i said the curries were the best I had ever eaten, in fact I would be lying if I said that they were anywhere near that level. 

A trip to this restaurant is usually preceded by a couple of shoddy pints of cheap lager (a la Gary & Tony) and an unfruitful turn on the IT Box - by which time we have got over all of our respective work based gripes and moved onto more erudite and (occasionally) vulgar banter. It is at this stage that Ahmed's beckons, with its Prince purple sign, which helpfully informs the would be customer that it is a fully licensed establishment - the dangerous words for the seasoned drinkers! 

The first thing you are hit with upon entering is the controversial decor. For any of you who have seen Only Fools and Horses it is reminiscent of one of the curry houses that Del-boy used to take many an ill-fated date in the early years of the show. There is a charmingly retro waiting area by a bar stocking classic bottles of Cinzano, Martini Rosso and Stone's ginger wine untouched and covered in a layer of dust probably undisturbed since 1978. On a wide glass coffee table, surrounded by jolting banquets an ominous 'lucky dip' platter of salted peanuts sits with a single (unnervingly much used) plastic spoon available to serve yourself - I have yet to be tempted by the pandora's box of food poisoning that is this centrepiece but I'm sure many a less cautious man has lived to rue the day they grabbed a handful of these salty (and unpleasant) surprises. 

Lilac is the resounding colour here with a generous  coating of cadbury's purple and plenty of latticed woodwork making for a retro, if highly oppressive experience. The service is - as you would expect from such an old-school experience - intruding when you least want it and non-existent when you do!

So far I fear that I have hardly painted a glittering picture and I can almost hear the 'bishop' and 'baronet' of booze baying for my blood! However, the food is distinctly average, nondescript and entirely suitable for soaking up pints of lager. Testament to this was the filthy meal I had there the other night (sadly not quite saved by the great value company!). It was my fault really - rather than going for the reliable Bhuna or the oversized but so-so Thali, I went for the mixed grill masala - if there was ever a case of style over substance then this was it. Never have I regretted such a choice as this in all of my poor curry history. Sweet and grainy, the taste of desiccated coconut dominated the preparation, let's just say that I was wishing for the £11.50 back that I had handed over for it. 

Usually I am very up for a pint soaking meal and so I'll put my recent experience down to a lack of foresight, a couple too many drinks and ultimately - a thing that so few food lovers want to admit - a bad menu decision! But please don't let this self analysis of my choices when slightly inebriated make you think that this is some great restaurant misunderstood. Frankly, if it wasn't for my mates, the bizarre ambience and booze before the trip there, it would be unlikely that I would ever have gone to Ahmed's. However I - and I am sure one or two others reading this post - cannot resist the lure of great banter, coupled with the combination of cheap beer and s*** food. In this case Ahmed's deserves the bracketed four cordons for the great time I have with my mates there…but this is not enough and they totally deserve the very real one cordon for the pretty mediocre food they serve. 

In my time of dying: Physical Graffiti - Led Zeppelin (1975)

It feels rather cliched to write a review of a Led Zeppelin album as I feel I am retracing a well trodden path, but as I listen to the epic 'Kashmir' with its dirty violin riffs and heavy orchestration I feel that I cannot let Physical Graffiti go by without a Rubinstein review!

The band had no need to prove themselves by 1975, one of the biggest, brashest and most exciting rock band around, Led Zeppelin had conquered the world through their heavy brand of blues rock - many claim them as an early metal group… I would disagree, but that is a matter of opinion. Their first four albums are still rightly regarded as rock classics and are an indispensable addition to any collection. However my favourite has to be their last 'great' record, Physical Graffiti. In fact I like it so much that it will almost certainly receive a solid and rarer 10/10 by the end of this review (sorry for the spoiler) such is the sheer joy of listening to one of the coolest albums of all time.

In true 1970s style it is a double album with a number of drawn out, conceptual tracks yet maintaining the unique energy that Zeppelin brought to their music and the very tight production that made their tunes aural experiences. You can not help but be taken in by the rollicking opener 'Custard Pie' with its liberal use of the clavinet (listen to Stevie Wonder's Talking Book, for more information!), Plant's rasping vocals and Jimmy Page's frenetic playing. From the get go this is an album all about excess in some way shape or form. The hard edge is balanced by some funky work outs and some great keyboard use in tandem with Page's guitar, 'Trampled under foot' being a great example of this.

However for me the crowning point of the whole record would be the already referenced 'Kashmir', a faux-eastern tinged rock anthem with some of the best string arrangements from the period that rival even the efforts of Chic's Nile Rodgers & Bernard Edwards. Any fans of the cult classic Fast Times at Ridgemont High will remember when Eric 'The Rat' Ratner gets it so wrong by attempting to use this song to break the ice on a first date.

I won't elaborate too much more on the other fantastic tracks on the album as I fear I will just be repeating what a whole slew of album critics have said before me. Yes it might now be a ubiquitous, tiresome "Rock Classic" but I feel this is thoroughly deserved. you can take Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band and Exile on Main Street, give me this one any day! 10 out of 10, enough said.