It was a dark and icy night and I was wondering down an unknown street in Williamsburg, Brooklyn wondering what the hell posessed me to do this in the first place. I had not given the oh so secret address to anyone and had this all been a ploy to lure unsuspecting tourist then this surely could not end well.
Fortunately my morbid thoughts were just thoughts. Even with my lousy sense of direction I managed to find where Whisk and Laddle was located and treated myself to a spicy and warming cocktail on arrival. So, what was Whisk and Laddle you might ask and what on earth was I even there? I first read about the concept of Supperclub and Whisk and Laddle from the Guardian. A Whisk and Laddle Supperclub as defined by the good people from W&L as:
Abiding by the traditional structure of the dinner party – a cocktail hour, soup course, entree then salad and out of the deeply entrenched belief that all things civilized and debaucherous find common ground on a dining room table, the Whisk and Ladle Supperclub was born.
What it was in reality is a damn good dinner party hosted at the chefs’ own home, this being a funky converted warehouse in Brooklyn. Consider it is as an alternate to dining in a formal restaurant, a supperclub allows the opportunity for good food and good company all under the radar of restaurant licensing law. Call it the secret society of foodies where entry depends on whether your reservation request depends on how interesting you plead your case when you made that reservation. Looking around the net, a reservation for a W&L sounded a lot like winning the golden ticket, to be honest I am not quite sure how I managed to get in when the waiting list was rumoured to be a matter of months, but plugging this blog seemed to help.
I was instantly charmed by their apartment and although turning up alone to a dinner party can be someone’s worst nightmare it also made it easier to join conversations. I talked to two lads from London who read the same Guardian article, two brothers who were artists, a couple who were in the movie industry and an actor.
Dinner that night was Creole inspired and all our meal was prepared as we waited in their living room. The atmosphere was casual and friendly and our tasters (Latkes topped with blue cheese) disappeared the moment it hit the table.
Soup was Creole turtle with corn bread, and apparently they managed to find said turtle/s from Minnesota, though I didn’t ask too closely whether said turtle was still breathing when they bought it.
As for dessert, the hot chocolate with jam filled beignet went down a treat. In between the wine and conversation kept flowing and I was a little too content to move when the candles were subtly snuffed one by one and brown envelopes were casually slipped by the hosts for guest contribution. It was definitely the most unusual and unexpectedly lovely experience I had in a while. I didn’t quite know what to expect, but walked away with a good meal and hopefully some people I will keep in contact with when I return.