ʽʽHi, I’m Benjamin Nunn – critic, gourmand and author of Ben Viveur. I like to eat and drink. And cook. And write.

You might have read me in an in-flight magazine, or a beer publication, but here on my own blog I'm liberated from the editorial shackles of others so anything goes.

I deal with real food and drink in the real world, aiming to create recipes that taste awesome, but which can be created by mere mortals without the need for tons of specialist equipment and a doctorate in food science. Likewise, I tend to review relaxed establishments that you might visit on a whim without having to sell your first-born, rather than hugely expensive restaurants and style bars in the middle of nowhere with a velvet rope barrier, a stringent dress code and a six-month waiting list!

There's plenty of robust opinion, commentary on the world of food and drink, and lots of swearing, so look away now if you're easily offended.

Otherwise, tuck your bib in, fill your glass and turbo-charge your tastebuds. We're going for a ride... Ben Appetit!

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Nothing to see here?

It's perhaps appropriate that during the visit of Sir Donald Trump to our fine native Covfefe, the Morning Advertiser has served up it's latest misleading slice of fake news.

CAMRA yields to allow craft keg beer at GBBF reads the headline, announcing that, for the first time, the flagship beer festival of the Campaign will be serving beer that isn't cask.

Except that it's not news. It's clickbait. As I reported at the time, domestic keg was served two years ago. And again last year. And foreign keg beers have been a part of the action for about the last 30 years.

The main difference this time might be, if I'm reading it correctly, a dedicated keg bar, which social media is predictably hailing as long overdue and 'not before time'.

I'm unconvinced. Broadening the choice of beer on offer at the GBBF is a good thing. Last year's festival was, in my considered view, the best there had been for some time, thanks in no small part to the beer range.

But what if this new policy ultimately ends up reducing choice? What if, for example, it means that they decide to axe the popular USA cask bar and replace them with American keg beer? I daresay some kegophiles would welcome this, but the reality is that there are now plenty of craft beer bars in London where one can drink US beer in keg form. The GBBF is almost completely unique in offering a range of American beer in cask form, indeed with a bigger choice thereof than one is ever likely to find anywhere else, including anywhere in the States!

And what if the 'acceptability' of keg means that they no longer bother ordering certain styles of beer in cask? Or beers above a certain strength? The issues facing the drinker throughout the wider beer scene (having to make a deliberate choice between cask beer and good or interesting beer) would be magnified rather than confounded.

I drink keg beer sometimes. I don't go to GBBF to drink it though.

As I say, given that it's essentially fake news, I'm not worried yet, but maybe I should be?

Monday, May 13, 2019

Lost Breweries: I is for Ind Coope

The lists of quarterly Guest Ales in Wetherspoons don't tend to be particularly interesting these days.

In a world where most of us know where to go for limited-release barrel-aged sour or a Bretted Imperial IPA, it might be comforting to know that there's a Spoons somewhere (or rather, there are Spoons everywhere) serving Kelham Island Pale Rider this month, but it really isn't news.

That said, there is something that caught my eye in the April-June, for which I shall keep an eye out. Burton Bridge brewery's Draught Burton Ale at 4.8%.

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Dear Mr. Vernon...

It's been a while since my intrepid search to find the best breakfast around turned up any new savoury evidence. Well, let's be brutally honest, it's been a while since I blogged about absolutely fucking anything, isn't it?

So, let's do a quick Brekkie review. Specifically The Breakfast Club, where I breakfasted last week. On my birthday. 42, since you asked. Getting old.

Anyway, 'The Club' has several locations across the capital, from Battersea to Hoxton as well as Oxford and Brighton, all of which should give you a general idea of where they are coming from and what sort of market they are after. (Possibly not 42 year olds, even if it is their birthday.)

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Cask 2019: Why it rocked; Why it sucked

I had some fantastic beers at the weekend.

To be more specific, I had some fantastic beers between 6 and 11 PM on Saturday at Testbed1 under railway arches in Bermondsey. Beers that, for the most part, will never be seen again anywhere, at any other time. And, fairly obviously, that is part of the problem.

I absolutely loved the Cask 2019 beer festival, if indeed one can call a one-day event, divided into two sessions a 'festival'. I appreciated the beers immensely, and several of them will go down as some of my favourites of 2019. But we have a problem here. And in attempting to outline some of the underlying issues facing the beer industry in 2019, the organisers have only served to create further problems. In a sense.

Thursday, January 17, 2019

When Porky met Curry

What's the best option when eating out? Indian, right?

What's the best roasted meat? Pork, right?

Why can't you get curried pork in Indian restaurants? That would be the most amazing thing ever, right?

It is, however, even in this age of every-conceivable-fusion, still remarkably rare. Never the twain shall met. Which is a bit odd. I know there is a cultural and religious explanation, but it's a lazy one, and under scrutiny it doesn't  really make a whole lot of sense.

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

Golden Pints: BV's best beers of 2018

So, another year over and we're all a bit closer to the merciful release of death...

2018 was a moderately eventful period for beer. Brewdog and Cloudwater grabbed the headlines by returning to cask production; Brut IPA became the next big thing; sales of real ale slumped somewhat alarmingly and the CAMRA Revitalization Project, two years in the making, turned out to be something of a non-event.

Meanwhile ordinary people like me continued to drink beer every day and obsessively keep a record of it.

I managed pints of 623 new cask beers in 2018, bringing my overall total to just short of 9100 and every tickers' big target is now neatly in sight if I can up my game a little in 2019.

Friday, December 7, 2018

The Battle of Quality Street

Christmas always seems more Christmassy when viewed through the prism of nostalgia. For me, that'll be mainly Christmases of the 1980s and possibly early 90s, though the magic was beginning to wane by then. 
"Ooh, I got a blank E-180 VHS cassette in my stocking! Thank you, that'll come in handy for recording Juliet Bravo." That sort of thing.

Things aren't the way they used to be. Even Quality Street isn't the same any more. But is it really demonstrably worse, or just different?

A big jar or tin of QS has been a part of my family's Christmas since long before I was born, and I have fond memories of eating them. And asking sheepishly 'Can I have another one please, Grandma?'

So, on what would've been Grandma's 90th birthday, I'm going to rank the current Quality Streets from worst to best. Here we go...

Why does this always happen?

Chocs away!

12. The Strawberry Delight. Why, oh why are there always more of these bastards than anything else? Why are these never 'swapped out' from the assortment to give new varieties a chance? Too sweet and synthetic without any kind of flavour that even remotely resembles an actual strawberry, and they're sticky as fuck - little tiny bits of foil always seem to get stuck to the chocolate and have to be either picked off or spat out. Ick.

Some people like them, mind. Grandma, for one.

11. The Milk Choc Block. Sorry, but it's the most pointless Quality Street ever. It's not like it's nice rich chocolate either. Bland and boring.

10. The Orange Creme. It's better than the Strawberry version in every way, but at the end of the Boxing Day, I just can't get excited about 'fruity' soft centres. Still, chocolate and orange is always a winning combination.

9. The Toffee Penny. Once you get chewing it, it's just like the other toffees in the tub, but lacking the chocolate coating, I know Christmas is probably the only time of year I'll actually feel like eating a piece of non-chocolate-coated toffee, but even so, I can't get excited about the penny.

8. The Fudge. Yes, it's fudge. Next.

7. The Coconut Eclair. This one has gone up slightly in my estimation over the past few Christmases. A nice bluey wrapper, and like a sort of chewy bounty, it's a good choice when you feel like something a bit different.

6. The Toffee finger. It ain't that unique or interesting, but a reliable sweet that may be few folks' favourite but nobody loathes them either. You'll never see a QS tin in the middle of January with these left at the end.

5. The Caramel Swirl. When I was young, the Toffee Cup - a direct predecessor to this sweet - was amongst my favourites, but it's not as good these days. Either it has changed, or I have. Probably both. For a start, the modern day caramel doesn't look as attractive - there was something appealing about taking the band of paper off the old Toffee Cup - and it's just a bit dull. But we all eat them.

4. The Orange Crunch. One of the few relatively recent introductions that has actually lasted the course. Chocolatey, orangey and crunchy. What's not to like? Unless you don't like orangey, crunchy things? Or chocolate, obviously.

3. The Toffee Deluxe. My favourite of the toffees, with the right sort of texture and a good chocolate/toffee ratio. No messing about. These tend to go early.

2. The Purple One. Who doesn't want a mouthful of caramel and Hazelnut? Mmm. I reckon, on a National scale, if we exclude people with nut allergies and brain injuries, this is probably the most popular one. And 'popular' in ancient Hebrew is 'Purple'. OK, it isn't, but everyone agrees that these are good. Just not quite as good as...

Some of these are much missed...
1. The Noisette Triangle. Obviously. It's the best one. It's one of only a few that still looks, feels and tastes like it did when I was a kid. Ground-up nuts are good in chocolate. Maybe it's a poor man's praline; a grubby interpretation of a gianduja. But by Jove, it's the Qualitiest of Quality Street, and they should put at least twice as many in. At the expense of all those fruit cremes. Obviously.

Now then, where other QS rankings might call it a day after counting them down, I've got a little something else for you in my notably-smaller-than-it-used-to-be tin...

Yay, nostalgia!

Over the years a number of sweets have been removed from Quality Street - here's where some of them might've fitted into the rankings today:

The Honeycomb Crunch would go somewhere around 5th-6th place, I reckon. They brought it in a couple of years ago when the Toffee Deluxe was ditched, but now they've pulled a reverse switcheroo. It's a shame because it wasn't a bad sweet.

The old Toffee Square was probably a toffee too far, which is why it disappeared about 30 years ago and, unlike the Toffee Deluxe, it has never come back. From what I can remember, this particular toffee was extremely hard and brittle but always looked rather attractive and regal in a shiny crimson wrapping. I'd probably rate it near the bottom of the top ten.

The Truffle Chunk, or whatever it was called, disappeared around the same time. And this one was actually brilliant. Unwrapping the little brown-gold treasure chest was a joy. It's a long time gone and I can barely remember it, but I'd rank it firmly above everything else, Green Triangle included. There was another one which was similar in appearance that I seem to recall was pretty good too. Possibly coffee, possibly another soft caramel, but this is going way back to when I was a tiny tot.

At the other end of the scale, the Apricot Delight was a short-lived mystery. And not so much a 'delight' as an abomination. Supposedly apricot-based, yet the wrapping was inexplicably blue while the actual colour of the filling was a sort of minty jizz. With a texture to match. It would rank near the bottom of the league - I didn't like it at all and I'm not sure anybody else ever did.

The Montelimar - now, this would probably be top five. Chocolate-coated Nougat, a bit like a Marathon bar. The texture was not unlike the modern Coconut Eclair which I guess must've eventually replaced it.

And finally, the Cracknel, which has come and gone a couple of times in my lifetime, in various different colour wrappages to boot. I liked it. A bit like a Dime bar, a bit like a Butterfinger, and, crucially, very different from everything else in the tin. I'd rate it top three, possibly even top two. If it were still with us.

So readers, what is your favourite? Which ones would you bring back? What do you completely fucking hate about Christmas these days?