Brighton; Kurdish Restaurant Reccommendation, Pomegranate

There are so many restaurants in Brighton, mostly with the same 'for-educated-foodies-but-not-fine-dining' aim, that it is difficult to decide which to try next, and a gamble that your chosen venue will achieve its aim. Here is one to try that you might miss, without a recommendation: Pomegranate, in Kemptown. It's in a side street (Manchester St), just near Harry Ramsden's on the sea front, and it's not only good, but interesting and exciting, too.

For starters, the very fresh garlic chilli prawns were juicy, perfectly cooked and genuinely very spicy and garlicky indeed. They were covered in chili oil and coriander in oil, richly seasoned, and served on top of a light flatbread. The flatbread soaked up the absolutely delicious oil and juices. Yesss! It was that elusive find; a chef who is not afraid of serving plenty of flavour or oil. My companion was so impressed, that he ordered a second plate of the spicy prawn dish to go with his main course.

Prawns with garlic and hot pepper

Next up was lamb kebabs for me, lamb chops for him. The kebab dish was one of the nicest things I've ever had in my mouth; plate-sized, puffy, soft flatbread, with chunks of tender griddled lamb, Pomegranate's 'special butter-yogurt sauce', HOT and fragrant chili oil in a pot, beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetables, delicate salad (lovely, not-too-sweet honey dressing), and this buttery, salty erm.. stuff all over the bread and soaked into a little mound of rice. I would normally leave all the rice with a carby dish like this, but the butter sauce was so unbelievably delicious, that I had to keep going. I didn't want this dining experience to end, anyway. Plus, I kept having sneaky tastes of the prawns again, and then having to finish once more on the butter.

The generous portion of char-grilled chops came with a mellow lemon and oregano oil, dainty salads and rice. Both massive platefuls were big on presentation, but the portions were not over-sized - just generous and presented with a bit of refined and pretty drama.

Lamb kebabs

Everything was so goddamn tasty, running with flavour and mouthwatering juices, and perfectly balanced in every direction. All the dishes were clearly cooked to order, and everything was certainly made from scratch on the unassuming premises. I really wish I'd had room to taste the delightful-sounding stuffed figs, but hopefully another time. Even though I'm usually on a mission to keep trying new places, this is one place I have to go back to - my mouth waters at the thought.

The prawns were £6.50, the main courses about £12 - amazing value, considering the thought, skill, ingredients and effort that had gone into the food here, compared to other similarly-priced restaurants. I've just seen from Pomegranate's website (www.eatpomegranates.com), that their ingredients are organic, and the chef (Hassan) is also the joint owner, which all helps.

The waitress (is that the owner/chef's partner, Zelal?) was friendly, attentive and discreet. The timing between courses was ideal. (UPDATE: That wasn't Zelal - we met her the next time we ate here, when she was our waitress - highly professional with a sparkling sense of humour.)

I'm utterly chuffed to have found this eating option! Thank-you, Pomegranate, for a special meal.

Hangover Healing - 31st August 2007

Too hungover for lunch, I walked on the beach and bought a bottle of water from Harry’s Bar – was this the same bar that was portrayed in Blood Diamond?

I didn’t have the energy to cope with continually telling blokes to go away, and instead let one boy walk with me, which stopped others from trying. In the end, though, he was arguing with me that he did love me and want to marry me, and why didn’t I like him, so I told him to go away. The next time I got approached I just said “No”, and walked on. My head was hurting!

After the beach, I went to visit my new friends, Foday and Abu, who I had met in Paddy’s. They said they would get me a couple of mix CDs, of the best Sierra Leonean music. I also made a new pal, Lou-Lou, who invited me to her place anytime for a meal (and a spliff). I never had the chance to take her up on the offer, but she was a lovely, bubbly girl and I’ll definitely visit if I ever go back.

Back to Basics

The construction of the houses in Sho-Sho Village vary from stone foundations with mud and stone walls and tin roofs, to a jigsaw of corrugated metal, wooden structures, plastic sheeting and anything else suitable that was obtainable at the time. Whatever they are made of, the houses are kept tidy and clean, and are a lot less depressing than equivalent one-room flats in London can be. The whole place smells pleasantly of charcoal and soap.

Preconceptions about different lifestyles meant that I was surprised at how wholesome the existence in Sho-Sho was. How can I have been so patronizing and had so little empathy as to think that people would just slum it and be used to that, just because they’re living with very little? When people have very little, they take good care of what they do have, and the tranquil atmosphere of Sho-Sho gave more of an impression of acceptance of circumstances than want. Squalor or need would not have entered my mind, as I watched healthy little Emmanuel giggling while he was soaped and scrubbed down by his brother. Instead, I am ashamed to admit that I felt a touch envious - these people have such a strong community, close and supportive family and few material aspirations. It all seemed so thoroughly pure, and a recipe for the ultimate in mental health.

Of course, everyone expresses a desire to go to Europe or the U.S. and get a job, but they don't have expectations or take anything for granted. I would feel uncomfortable and unhappy about taking anyone out of that situation to give them 'opportunities' in Europe, because they'd loose so much in terms of community and general contentment.

These guys also eat much better than many western people, simply because convenience and processed foods are not an option. Organic rice, super-fresh fish, vegetables and spices, cooked over an open fire, are the only choice, and the people I spoke to don’t actually want to eat “rich foods”, preferring sticky rice and cassava leaf stew with fish, to meat and chips.

Life expectancy must be low only because of the lack of a welfare state and medical services. If you get sick and have no money you might die, but everyone’s ‘natural’ health must be better from the clean diet and tropical climate. The constantly warm climate adds to a general feeling of wellbeing, which is of course also known to lengthen human lives. But I did keep in mind that sometimes the villagers can’t afford to buy enough rice, and rely on each other for food at difficult moments.

After the beach walk, social visit, and a nap, my hangover had eased up and my father took me to Alex’s again, for supper, where I had a medicinal G&T, followed by tasty moussaka, chips and a lush-but-over-dressed salad. Pa had barbequed fish and draft Star.

P.S Sorry about the total lack of photos for today - my mind wasn't on the job...