Hang Fire Southern Kitchen, Barry

It’s only in the last few years that barbecue has meant more to us Brits than cheap burgers and undercooked chicken legs. Now even Marks & Spencer has an authentic southern barbecue range

Two of the people responsible for this are the gals from the Hang Fire Smokehouse, Samantha Evans and Shauna Quinn.

I’d been wanting to eat their food since they were finalists - and then won - the street food category in the BBC Food & Farming awards but it always seemed too much of a challenge to track them down in some random corner of Cardiff.

Now they’re housed in a beautiful building just by the docks in Barry or Barrybados as it's known locally. Indeed when we arrive the sun is shining when it’s been tipping down in my home town of Bristol

Shauna, the noisy extrovert one administers bear hugs (not just to us, to everyone) and sits us down. "You have a birthday!" she shrieks gaily "and you can’t drink so YOU (pointing at me) will have to have The Surprise!"

She returns with a couple of shot glasses of bourbon and pickle juice. "Down in one!" she orders.

"I’m not doing it."

"Yes you are!"

"No I’m not"

I wait for her to drink hers then take a sip. She looks as if I’ve slapped her in the face. Sorry, sorry. Just can’t do it this early in the day.

At least I manage the pickle juice which is delicious. It obviously comes from the bread and butter pickles that are served with the brisket and burnt ends my chef friend Romy has ordered. This is a massive plateful of dark, savoury, fall-apart meat which would feed four with ease. We barely do it justice.

Romy's daughters don’t rate the chips but I think they’re fine though not as good as the slender crisp sweet potato fries that come with my smoked chicken and waffles. This is my star dish - perfectly fried chicken served with a creamy ‘black’n’white pepper’ gravy. Actually it tastes more mushroomy than peppery but sooo good.

A couple of quibbles - we had to wait a bit for our main course so this isn’t a place to come for a quick bite, on a Sunday at least. A good excuse though to order some of the amazing 'frickles' (deep fried dill pickles), break your teeth on some ‘cracklins’ (aka pork scratchings) or tuck into some sticky chicken wings.

And the desserts - sorry gals - just don't come up to the standard of the rest of the food. I suspect your heart's not in it. A bowlful of sliced banana topped with squirty cream may be authentic but doesn’t really cut the mustard. The brownie is fine though it could be a touch more squidgy.

There’s also a very short wine list which didn’t trouble me as this is a place to drink beer (from a good craft beer list). There's also - paying tribute to fellow Food & Farming award winners - cider from Andy Hallett and soft drinks Square Root whose root beer goes so well with the chicken I make it my match of the week.)

All I'm thinking about now is when I can next get back there. I wish Bristol had one too. (Hint.)

PS: A useful tip. There’s a fairly utilitarian Premier inn opposite which sounds a good plan if you’re going in the evening. I suspect it could get even louder and even messier. And even more fun.

The Hang Fire Southern Kitchen is at the Pump House, Hood Road, Barry CF62 5BE. Oddly they don't have a phone number - you'll need to book online. Opening hours: Wednesday to Saturday evenings, and Friday, Saturday and Sunday lunch. Expect to pay about £25-30 a head for food: our bill, which was mainly for food and soft drinks, came to to £96 for four.

The girls also have a cookbook out called the Hang Fire Cookbook which is published by Quadrille. They're on Twitter @hangfirebbq.

Antica Macelleria Cecchini: meat heaven

Hunting horns toot, large slabs of raw meat surround you. Antica Macelleria Cecchini is not the place to go for a romantic night out or - heaven forbid - with a vegetarian.

But it’s an experience not to be missed if you’re within striking distance of Panzano in Chianti where celebrity butcher Dario Cecchini has been working in the family butcher’s shop for the past 40 years

A large painted polystyrene cow proclaims the entrance and there is Dario himself (if you’re lucky) beaming menacingly. The side counter of the shop is stacked with lardo-clogged rillettes smothered on crostini and steak-thick slices of fennel sausage for you to graze on. There’s a fleeting glimpse of the cool room with carcasses even bigger than Dario himself then you’re led through a secret door to a dining area upstairs with an open fire, a long shared table and MEAT. SO much meat.

Dario’s sidekicks start to slap it over the coals while the maestro wanders around roaring, blowing a horn, occasionally bursting into song and slicing up the choicer cuts himself. It’s a steaklovers dream: Chianti crudo (chunkily cut beef tartare), carpaccio di culo (seared rump), costata all fiorentina (strip steak), bistecca Panzanese …. The meat is just the rare side of blue. A plate of choice pieces of fat is handed round…The beast we’re eating is a Chianina, one of a herd of rare cattle reared by our host Giovanni Manetti of Fontodi. Given that it’s seven years old and aged for 46 days you do feel you should treasure every morsel.

We’re thankful for a gigantic bowl of raw carrots, celery, fennel and onion on the table which bring some light relief from the protein. There’s also a bowl of beans, swimming in olive oil and a baked potato to anoint with yet more fat. Surely there can’t be any more meat but then another fanfare and “fi-OR-en-TINA” and Tuscany’s most prized cut comes out. I can barely manage a mouthful. I swear never to eat meat again*

For the amount of food you get the set price of 50 euros (just over £40/$57) is ridiculously cheap especially when you can bring your own wine, in our case a 1990 Fontodi riserva they no longer make (though I feel the more vivid 2006 Flaccianello works better with such rare meat),

How a tiny butcher’s shop became such a mecca for meatlovers is a tribute to the personality of Cecchini, a man who you won’t be surprised to hear goes down well in Vegas. They should give him TV show. Man vs Beef. Dario would obviously win.

*although somehow I managed to the next day. This is Tuscany, after all.

Macelleria Cecchini is at 11 via XX Luglio, Panzano in Chianti and is open every day for lunch at 1pm and dinner at 8pm. Reservations advised. Tel: 39 055 852176

Sartoria: a smart West End Italian

I’ve always been a fan of Francesco Mazzei’s cooking so when he suddenly left his previous restaurant L’Anima I couldn’t wait for him to pop up somewhere else.

It’s taken a while but now he seems to have found his natural home in the revamped Sartoria in Savile Row.

Like L’Anima it’s a posh sort of place designed to appeal to city boys on expense accounts (this part of Mayfair hosts a number of hedge funds) though I noticed there were a fair amount of what looked like well-heeled Italian businessmen there too. It’s warmer and more convivial than L’Anima with plenty of potential for people watching so you want to make sure you get a corner table rather than one that leaves one of you with their back to the room. (We managed to get ours changed. I can recommend table 6.)

Seduced by the idea of lobster tagliolini my friend Thane and I rapidly dismissed the affordable option of the set lunch menu in favour of exploring the à la carte. We were going to have a starter and a primo then felt we ‘should’ have a main and at least a couple of the sides should be explored. All in the interests of doing the menu justice, you understand, not because we’re pigs.

The lobster was just fantastic with fat chunks of sweet meat, silky pasta and a really intense shellfish sauce. We also loved the burrata with ‘torpendino’ tomatoes and smoked aubergine with an amazing hit of fragrant basil leaves and a chunkily cut beef tartare with anchovies and truffle. The fritto misto we ordered was slightly less impressive with as much courgette as fish though there were some delicious little monkfish tails lurking in it. And someone had been a bit too heavy handed with the nutmeg on the double baked potatoes with mozzarella, a dish that sounded more seductive than it tasted, even for this potato lover. Nice fresh rocket salad on the side though.

On the next door table a couple were tucking into a vast veal milanese that would comfortably have served three, served with an overflowing bowl of courgette fries. Seeing us eyeing it up they generously offered us a taste - and that was tops too - cut more thickly than the usual escalope from good veal with plenty of flavour.

After this we resolved to resist the zabaglione we’d had our eye on but hadn’t reckoned with Francesco sending out a couple of desserts - a really faultless tiramisu - not too creamy, not too sweet, and a clever, ravishingly pretty plate of lemon-curd stuffed meringues with crisp shards of rhubarb. It would have been rude not to really ...

We kept our bill under reasonable control by sticking to wine by the glass, a Verdicchio and a Pieropan Soave to start with, and a gorgeous Fiano di Avellino from Guido Marsella which was perfect with the lobster. It would be easy to be led into spending a good deal more by the persuasive waiters - although there are bottles for as little as £25 on the wide-ranging Italian wine list.

One of the big attractions of Sartoria is that it’s open all day so should you suddenly crave a tiramisu after a particularly fraught shopping session in Regent Street you could indulge the whim. Or, even better, plan a power breakfast. I particularly like the sound of the eggs purgatorio with spicy tomato and ‘nduja sauce (Francesco, coming from Calabria, is the man who started the whole nduja craze).

Sartoria is pricey but if you go with the idea of dropping in for a dish it’s affordable. And very cossetting, I must say.

Sartoria is at 20 Savile Row, London W1S 3PR. Tel: 020 7534 7000

Disclosure: we were given complimentary desserts and aperitifs

Pot Luck Club, Cape Town

All discussions on where to eat in Cape Town tend to end up with a recommendation to eat at what is still generally regarded as the city’s best restaurant, The Test Kitchen. Which is not a wholly practical suggestion as it’s almost impossible to get a table.

You may fare better with its younger, more laid-back sibling The Pot Luck Club which is situated in the same former industrial complex called the Old Biscuit Mill but on the top floor with dramatic views over the city

Even then we had to pull strings to get in but admittedly that was on a Saturday night.

It is - pause for a groan - based on a small plates formula but at least they have the nous to not bring them all at once and deliver them in some kind of logical order from lighter flavours to more intense ones. You need time to appreciate both the beauty of the plates and the myriad flavours and textures of the food.

The menu is divided into different sections - salty, sweet, umami, sour and bitter and sweet ending. You jot down what you want on a pad. It started with a plate of ‘Pepe’s’ carrots (have you noticed how on-trend carrots are?) with goat ricotta and roasted sunflower seed brittle. I’m not sure it was particularly umami but it was a lovely contrast of sweet roots, creamy cheese and crunchy seeds - almost like a deconstructed carrot cake. Frugally the carrot tops were used as a garnish.

Fish tacos were two crisp little discs of fried tortilla sandwiching a filling of marinated fish, avocado and refried black beans The chef obviously likes Mexican flavours. The warm freshly baked ciabatta on the bread board (South African bread boards are incredible) was also made with masa flour

A dazzlingly pretty plate of springbok carpaccio (right) with smoked pinenuts and burnt honey and soy dressing topped with wafer thin slices of ..what? Mooli, I think …salad leaves and edible flower petals brought us back to sweet (it was lovely with the 2009 bottle of Ashbourne Sandstone, the lush blend of Sauvignon and Chardonnay, we were drinking)

Then a spectacularly original take on a tartare, this time intensely umami: miso-cured trout, ginger tahini, teriyaki-braised sweet potatoes under a dome of fine slices of radish (also great with the wine)

Next beef tartare on toast with parsnip crisps and an artistic array of avocado cream blobs of varying sizes which made a smooth counterpoint to the raw meat (texture colour and flavour are so skilfully combined here). Then, more striking still, from the sour section, ceviche with jalapeno tiger’s milk, quinoa, samp (corn) and ethereal, lacy masa crisps.

By this time we were on to the reds we’d brought - both light, bright and youthful: Duncan Savage’s 2014 A Fine Line (a blend of cinsault, grenache and syrah) and the deliciously swiggable 2015 Rall cinsault. Cinsault may be my new obsession this year.

There was a slight change of pace with two warm dishes, a tender tentacle of octopus, crusted and deep-fried, served with doenjang (fermented soybean) mayo, pickled cucumber and a Jackson Pollockesque splattering of octopus teriyaki

And finally (of the savoury dishes we ordered) pig’s head saam - the fatty meat clevery offset by pineapple kimchi, miso dressing and bean powder, all designed to be rolled up, laarb-style, in lettuce leaves.

We were too full, really, for a dessert but I couldn’t resist seeing how they’d handle one so ordered a summer berry gratin with yuzu ice cream and a rakishly slanted disk of kataifi (vermicelli-like crisp Greek-style pastry) which made a refreshingly summery end to the meal.

At the current rate of exchange (23 Rand to the pound, 16 to the dollar) Pot Luck Club is the most incredible bargain. (That stunning ceviche dish was R80 or £3.50, for example.) You just need that fabled luck to score a reservation. Personally I’d turn up and hope for a no show. If you can’t get in you can always eat at the very pleasant Burrata downstairs which I featured in my recent match of the week.

The Pot Luck Club is at 373 – 375 Albert Road, Woodstock, Cape Town. Email: reservations@thepotluckclub.co.za. Tel: 021 447 0804

I ate at Pot Luck Club as a guest of Wines of South Africa.