Singles Supper Club - some thoughts from Singledom Town

Finally we have the low down on the Singles Supper Club, this time coming to you from the lovely mayor over at Singledom Town. As this whole experiment was really his fault I figured he should put the effort into telling you all about it. (If you really want my opinion you can catch it on his blog here!) 

(FYI - As you'll discover, I seem to be known as Big Instrument. Not sure how I feel about this.)

Dear all,

As avid readers, you are aware that BigInstrument (not her real name) and I came up with the notion that she should host a Supper Club for gay single dudes and that I should blog about it. We would combine our incredible blogging powers and crossblog until the blogosphere exploded with bloggy gooey goodness. This is my half of the post-Supper Club deal. BigInstrument’s can be read at SingledomTown.

Lest you be confused, I’ll state that this is my first foray into food-blogging, so you’ll have to excuse my approach. Rather than simply rabbit on about the amazing mouth-bound creations of BigInstrument, I’m going to attempt to recount the evening by parsing events via the contents of the menu. That’s right folks, I can write all I like about dating and being single, but when it comes to food, aside from chewing and swallowing, I have no idea what I’m doing.

After myself and BigInstrument blogged our invitations to the Supper Club, gay dudes from far and wide began inviting themselves in, and yet it still took a while for us to fill the eight seats outright. It seems Dublin ‘mos aren’t as daredevil as we might have been led to believe. Nevertheless, the hour approached, and we knew we had our table (our very beautifully set table at that).

I arrived a few minutes early to find BigInstrument and CuteButStupid (thereafter known as TheHelp) (neither are his real names) dressed up and twitching with the nerves. Well, I say ‘dressed up’. Big was stunning in full evening wear, Cute had pulled a cardigan over the usual garb and pulled a brush through his hair. I think he’d pulled a brush through his hair.

First in the door: FlowerBoy (not his real name). This IT professional, a one time resident of Shannon, and total git, blew the competition out of the water in terms of ass-kissing, by bringing a bale of flowers for Big. It never even occurred to me to bring flowers. Thank God I brought port. Cute took his coat, got brought a glass of mulled wine, and the two of us got to chatting by the fire.

Next up: AllSmiles (not his real name). In real estate by trade, and from Mayo by extraction, this gent knew how to come in all smiles and chat, and the three way conversation skidded along with excellent lubrication by both Big and Cute.

Third singleton in the door: CarCrash (not his real name). I can’t really say much about CarCrash as he really didn’t reveal much. His reticence was what made him the most intriguing of the bunch, but in the end, he was a bit of a car crash, which I will touch on later.

Fourth: ProfessorPlum (not his real name). A lecturer on a topic so specific that I couldn't describe it or I'd give the game away entirely. Clearly, the dreamiest of the bunch, ProfessorPlum would make just about anyone salivate, unless you are food addict, like myself, whose dribbling ways were focussed entirely on getting a mulled wine refill while chomping on apple chips and home-roasted nuts.

A known master of tardiness, EnormousQuiff (not his real name) was fifth in the door, beaten out only by MrT (not his real name), a man even worse for the time-keeping, and then NurseyNursey (not his real name) who had been working late and had a legitimate excuse (he was saving lives, nurse-style). To put it in context, all these men were single, intelligent, attractive Dublin-based gay dudes who, except for CarCrash, I somehow knew in one way or another.

This is a bad diagram

The very badly improvised diagram here shows exactly how I knew them all. For the others, there were many more new faces than there were for me, and as gay men often will, they did the spiderweb diagram in their minds and one of the first, if brief, topics of conversation, was their amazement that none of them had slept with any one of the others.

With the conversations in full-flow, a few clangers fell out of men’s mouths for immediate and violent verbal consumption by the pack. MrT’s excellent contributions included declaring, twice, he couldn’t remember a single one of our names. He then invited all comers to leave their keys in a bowl. I should note though, that while there was the odd sex joke, considering the company and event in question, they were quite politely left behind.

The chat veered from initial introductions, to ‘what do you do’ style questions, to, imaginatively enough, ‘what did you want to do when you were a kid’. ProfessorPlum pulled at heartstrings with ‘I wanted to be a binman’. MrT drew yawns with ‘An accountant’. I was entirely derided when I revealed I had had a Wordsworth-esque relationship with nature as a teen and fancied myself a bulb farmer. My stock comparatively rose when EnormousQuiff inexplicably revealed a desire to be a priest. At that, Big invited us around the kitchen table and we took our seats, cleverly ordered to ensure no one was sitting beside anyone they knew (I’m not sure to what extent Big was aware that I knew nearly everyone).

The first course was potted crab (potted in the daintiest antique china cups you ever did see) accompanied by pickled cucumber and home-baked sourdough bread. It was delicious. I bloody love crab and this was great. I think pretty much everyone tucked in and to be honest, while I’d been talking like the clappers by the fire, my trap closed for the purposes of talking once the food was in front of me, and I used the jaw to chomp chomp instead.

CarCrash, sat beside me, used the jaw to neither talk nor chomp chomp. His only contribution to the conversation was to say he felt terrible he hadn’t eaten anything. Was it a sea-food allergy? Perhaps he was allergic to China? He didn’t elaborate.

With one course devoured, and the introductory awkward conversation left behind in the sitting room, the chat went round and round the table. I had been worried that with myself and MrT sat at either end of the table, we might dominate the conversation through too many in-jokes and familiar talk. I shouldn’t have worried. MrT dominated the conversation all by himself.

All of us a similar age, we found plenty to talk about and plenty in common: there was a penchant for 80s cartoons (and some loud singing of theme tunes); there was the inevitable slagging of those of a non-Dublin heritage (Shannon has a lovely firestation; Athlone a lovely train station; Drogheda a lovely niteclub); there were holiday tales of being held at gunpoint and experiences of deportation; we were all fans of sci-fi (though ProfessorPlum didn't admit to being as much of a Trekkie as his USS Enterprise-D alarm clock would testify).

Our starter dishes cleared, the main was presented to us: mushroom and pesto lasagne with bean salad. I’m not going to lie: this astounded me. I don’t actually like mushrooms. Picky eater MrT had, in advance, requested an alternative meal (as provided for in the invitation to Supper Clubs) and couldn’t face a plate of mushrooms. My adventurousness was rewarded: the lasagne was absolutely delicious. What usually kills me about mushrooms is the texture but somehow Big had transformed this aspect and created something firmer and more tangible. The smokey flavours and creamy layers were perfectly complementary and I scraped my plate clean, as did mostly everyone else. 

Except CarCrash. Again, he felt terrible handing back a full plate. Was it a cheese allergy? Or bean? Who knows. He didn’t elaborate.

As per the rules of a Supper Club, each of us had brought our own drinks to quaff and by now the table was seeing the coming and going of empty bottles. This only added to the decibels at the table. I’d imagine the neighbours thought there were far more than eight men at the table, and soon there weren’t eight. Following the very satisfying dessert of apple and quince tart with homemade custard, CarCrash returned from his fourth cigarette break to make a dramatic announcement (!). He had to leave: his ex-boyfriend had been in a car crash.

I barely suppressed the laughter behind my hand. ProfessorPlum, at the far end of the table, gave me a stern look. ‘Oh right’, I thought, ‘this is serious’. I straightened up and attempted to look concerned. This is hard when your face is floating in Cava bubbles. CarCrash’s ex was at that very moment on the way to James’ and CarCrash insisted that AllSmiles accompany him. You could tell AllSmiles had no more interest in that, and yet felt obliged, since the ex was his flatmate.

They may not even have been out the door when I guffawed. NurseyNursey’s professional opinion was that if the ex was on the phone, ‘he would walk it off’. I admitted I had a ‘car crash’ waiting on the end of the line, just in case the Supper Club turned out to be a bust. So with two seats spare, Big and Cute joined us at the table for coffees and fresh biscotti, the last of the wine, continued nattering and the big decision: where to next? We were all in firm agreement: we were not going on the scene. Sure the gayness of that would kill you, so we opted instead for Against The Grain.

NurseyNursey, who hadn’t been drinking, threw Big, Cute and FlowerBoy in the back of his car, while EnormousQuiff, ProfessorPlum, MrT and I walked the short stretch over to Camden Street. Installed on a couple of stools, myself and ProfessorPlum got into a round of niche beers of his choice and the group downed yet more booze and drowned each other in ribald tales. As soon as the lights flashed, we lurched across the road to Solas, where dancing was done.

It’s funny, while crossing the road, ProfessorPlum said he had the oddest inclination to ask ‘So...when are we all hanging out again?’ I felt exactly the same. We had had such a good time as a group, it seemed only natural that you’d want to repeat the experience. In Solas, plenty of confidences were shared, numbers swapped and even a kiss was had (I’ll not say between whom) and certainly, a shine was taken to others by more than one party.

I personally think the night was a triumph. I can’t say enough about BigInstrument and her skillz. We cheered her about a dozen times that night and I had to be reminded that at one point, we held her aloft and whooshed her into the air on the Solas dancefloor, chanting her name.

The night was bloody marvellous. Roll on the next Supper Club, Singles Supper Club, Straight Supper Club, whatever. They’re all great.

Team Supper Club: BigInstrument, WooWoo and CuteButStupid, pissed in Solas

Singles Supper Club Menu

winter warming drink

apple chips

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potted crab with pickled cucumber 

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mushroom and pesto lasagne

bean salad 

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apple and quince tart with custard

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tea/coffee/biscuits

donation of 20 euro per person 

please let me know if there's any allergies etc and I'll see if I can whip up an alternative

Singles Supper Club

For one night only this November 25th, the Arbutus Club is going to be playing Cupid to a table of lovely handsome single men. Are you a lovely, handsome, single man? Are you looking to meet another similarly minded, lovely, handsome, single man? Do you also like good food and good chat and generally just meeting new people. You do? Well then this night is made for you. You simply must come.

A good friend of mine, who happens to be one such lovely, handsome, single man has been playing the dating scene in Dublin for some time and has been giving us his marvelous insights into the gay scene  and the trials and tribulations involved in trying to make a meaningful connection in these oh so cynical times, through his fantastic blog 'Singledom Town'. We got to chatting, him about his blog, me about mine, as we bloggers tend to do, and one thing led to another. Before you knew it we had all sorts of fancy matchmaker notions and blog swap ideas running around in our heads. After all, isn't the old 'we met at a dinner party' line one of the classics? Food has such a huge part to play in dating. You start off with a coffee, then you progress to a pint. If you're still not horrified by the thought of the person you move on to dinner. How many eyes have met across a carbonara and fallen hopelessly in love? Well maybe not that many, but the point is food brings people together. It gives us something to connect over. We can bond over it's deliciousness or even sometimes it's awfulness, we can rave about it, we can complain about it, the smell and taste of it can be enough to invoke memories for years to come. In short it allows us to engage in wonderful shared experiences and surely this is the point of meeting anyone at all.

So here's the plan. I host a fabulous Arbutus Supper Club. Eight of the finest male (and gay, in case you didn't pick up on that) single specimens Dublin has to offer come to dine. They eat, they drink, they chat, and possibly one or two sparks may fly, and if not, then at least some new connections will have been made and a good dinner will have been eaten.

The dinner will kick off as usual with drinks and nibbles by the fire. Then the diners will all sit around my kitchen table where I will serve them up a three course meal followed by tea and coffee. In the interests of fairness I'll be encouraging some seat swapping between courses so everyone gets their fair share of the company at the table.

We ask for a kind donation of 20 euro per person on the night to cover the cost of the food. I'll be posting the menu on here very shortly so keep an eye out. I have to ask if you do commit to coming that you do your best to make it on the night and if for any reason you do have to cancel you try and tell me in good time or send a replacement. 

To round off the blog synergy I will then give a lowdown of the blog on Singledom Town and the mayor of Singledom Town will delight you with his version of events on here.

What an experiment! If you want to be a part of it or have any questions at all, you can get in touch either by filling out a comment box at the end of this entry or contacting me via twitter. (If you're going to come along please send me your email address to thearbutusclub@gmail.com so I'll be able to contact you about the dinner.)  We will then be able to put together a randomised guest list from the responses we get and who knows who'll be coming to dinner!

Autumnal Supper Club

Last Friday night saw the second Arbutus Supper Club up and running and it was a brilliant night. After a few minor hiccups the previous day with not very successful shopping leading to a slight menu change, I couldn't have been happier with the end result. The main course was due to be baked sea bass and I was really hoping to get two lovely big fish to bake in the oven stuffed with all sorts of delights but as I couldn't find a fish big enough in any of the fishmongers I went to I had to settle for poached fillets instead, which was a lovely substitute even if it wasn't exactly what was advertised! 

The evening started with a glass of sparkling wine and some apple chips and spiced nuts by the fire to help us get in the autumn mood (the unseasonably warm weather was ruining my Autumn theme!) The apple chips were a huge success. Very easy to make and absolutely delicious. They were all gobbled up with none left for me after. I highly recommend them. And they're relatively healthy too.

The starter was a duck terrine from the River Cottage with homemade chutney and sourdough bread. I'm a particular fan of this terrine. Again, it's quite simple to make and looks very impressive when you turn it out so it's great for dinner parties. And it can be made the day before giving you one less thing to stress about on the day itself. Winner.

The poached fish was lovely and I was really happy with the celeriac mash. The celeriac added a really nice sweetness to the potatoes which worked really well. The main was finished off with simple greens, wilted and then dressed with salt and butter. A garlicky tarator sauce was served for those who wanted an extra level of flavour with the fish. I hadn't come across this sauce before, or at least I thought I hadn't. It's very similar to humous, but made without the chickpeas. I found it in a recipe for the baked sea bass that I was going to do and the one I made had bread and pine nuts in it. Further internet searching has come up with lots of tahini based recipes for this dish and the more I read about it the more familiar it became. It's one of those ones that I've eaten loads of times in mediterranean restaurants but never known what it was called. Now I know. Anyway, it was an interesting accompaniment and the sharpness of it worked well to cut through the fish.

I had never cooked a pumpkin pie before Friday and was a little nervous about how it would go down, especially since I had no idea what it tasted like before I served it. I had a real live Canadian at the table and two of my other guests had family in the states and all three assured me it was very much like the real thing, so I took them at their word and was delighted. It was simple enough to make. I blind baked the pastry, but I'm not sure this was necessary and probably would bake it raw the next time. I also used a butternut squash instead of actual pumpkin as this was recommended as a tastier alternative by a lot of the recipes I read. I'm not sure if it would go down as my favourite desert of all time but it was perfect to finish to my Autumn celebration and there was none left at the end to wound my ego.

The thing I enjoyed most about my second supper club was how different it was to the first one. The first was in the height of summer and attended by friends of mine, who all knew me obviously, but not necessarily each other. It was a hectic affair, not least of all because it was all so new to me, but there was an excitement in the air that comes with a new venture and the summer sense of possibility pervaded. This time round I had two guests who had been before, two guests who I didn't know and three who were friends but were new to the club. It was a much more relaxed and laid back affair for many reasons. The time of year, the fact that it was on a Friday, the experience of the first event behind me and most importantly the unique combination of guests all came together to create a special atmosphere, totally different to the first time round. This to me is what supper clubs are all about. The food is merely a catalyst, hopefully a very tasty one, which allows people to come together and have an experience that is totally unique to that time and place. What more could you want? Can't wait for round three.

Inaugural Supper Club

So I'm finally getting my breath back after what was a brilliant weekend of food. I'd just like to say a huge thanks to all my guests who made last Saturday's dinner such a huge success and also an enormous thanks to my very dapper butler for the evening, Ed. I guess all good things come to those who wait!


I thought I'd throw a few of the recipes your way and also give you the run down of where I sourced the produce and what went into the whole evening.

Going back in time, this was Thursday...

Picked up the meat for Saturday's dinner today from Ennis's butchers up in Rialto. A really good local butchers, and surprisingly good value. Great to get the bones thrown in as well, which are currently bubbling away in the kitchen to make the stock for the tagine, which I'm going to make tomorrow, time enough to give it a good stew overnight to get the most out of all those lovely spices. The meat is currently in the fridge soaking up the spices that will give the dish it's delicious flavour, lots of cumin, paprika, cayenne and tumeric - it smells great!

Then Friday....

I'm very excited and can't wait to start cooking. I've tried as much as possible to keep out of the supermarkets for this one and get my ingredients from independent retailers and markets. Here's a run down of what I've been able to find. It's amazing what's out there when you put in a little leg work! (although with all this rain, those legs do tend to get a little wet).

I'm very lucky to be surrounded by a great Asian community and the local shops are stuffed with all the spices, pulses, grains, and treats a girl could want, so a short trip round the corner was all I needed to stock the press with the required spices for my menu. Is it wrong to get excited about buying spices?

For the record, you get twice the amount for half the cost of the supermarket variety and I'd put money on them having a better flavour. I was also able to pick up the Rosewater for my dessert. ( got my inspiration here, but the Rachel Allen recipe worked really well with the Rosewater, about 2 teaspoons, also tried a river cottage recipe but the yoghurt made it a bit too tart for the rose water!) Amazingly they had three different options to choose from. It's great to see the choice of produce in Dublin increasing with the influx of different nationalities. When I first moved home from London I pined for the Turkish shop we used live over, with it's fresh veg, broad bean crisps (if you can find these, you'll never stop eating them...on second thoughts, maybe don't go looking!) and delicious kalamata olives and vine leaves, all cheap enough to buy for everyday use. There were few shops like it here but what there was were badly stocked. But, happily, the last year has seen a huge change and I for one am loving it.
Finally to Saturday, which was one of those beautiful Dublin mornings, where everything looks ten times brighter and lovelier than on an average day. Got out to the market good and early just as the city was waking. Down to Pearse Street to see what they had to offer. It's a lovely market, quite small, but with some great sellers and welcoming atmosphere. I got my veg from Ballinroan farm and a few leaves and spinach from Bogach farm. It wasn't cheap but it was all organic and for the salad leaves it was definitely worth it for the taste. Being the cheese fiend that I am I couldn't leave without taking a little bit of cheese from Mossfield farm for my lunch, which was really delicious. Then, a quick trip in to Temple Bar Market, which, while beautiful and interesting is a little prohibitive price-wise for regular shopping. However, I braved the tourists to pick up some olives and vine leaves. Last stop was on Aungier Street for the Baklava. Picked it up in a little ethnic supermarket. Great value and delicious. I really do love these shops. in fact I think I'm a little obsessed.

All that was left was a quick trip to the mammy's garden to get flowers for the table and a few treats for the salad and the job was done.

So, the results? I really enjoyed making all the food and shopping for it. Nearly all the plates came back clean, seconds were had and smiling faces were many. I choose to take that as a good sign.