Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Asha Bhosle and Mohammed Rafi. Lady Day and Prez. Bun Maska and Chai. There are some things in life so perfectly matched – such winning combinations – that you wonder quite what anyone did before they came along.
Most people thought we’d been at the bhang again when – long back – we aired the idea of serving bacon in a naan bread. You’re paagal, they said. A fool’s errand, scorned others. Why mess with a classic? It can’t be improved. And what the devil do Indians know about bacon? Etc…
And yet we had a hunch. A vision. A needling urge to bring a bit of Bombay and a bit of London closer together. Arduous (really!) rounds of bacon tastings ensued. Endless batches of dough were pounded. Forearms were singed in the tandoor. We faced agonising decisions over condiments. And then, finally, we had something we were proud to serve you. And – we can shyly admit – over time, the Bacon Naan Roll has garnered something of a following. Marina called it ‘a thing of loveliness’ – even ‘GAWJUSS’ – and Time Out listed it in their Top 10 Meat Dishes. It could well be the most tweeted-about bacon sandwich in London.
We take bacon direct from the char-grill and place it in a freshly baked naan, with the slightly genius combination of chilli-tomato jam, cream cheese and herbs. As far as we know, it’s the only bacon sandwich in London (and possibly, the world) where the bread is baked to order: each naan is cooked within seconds in the searingly hot tandoor ovens.
And earlier this year, we asked the question – if bacon and naan are so damn good together – then what if we got hold of the best bacon money can buy? It stands to reason that this would be nothing short of phenomenal.
And thus, we introduce you to the (limited edition) Ginger Pig Bacon Naan Roll.
For a short time only, in addition to our regular bacon naan roll, you can order a version with bacon from acclaimed rare breed specialists, The Ginger Pig. Streaky bacon from Tamworth, Berkshire, Old Spot and Plum Pudding pigs, dry-cured for five days with rock salt and demerara sugar, then cold-smoked over oak chips. It’s a stronger, tastier, saltier bacon. A bit more badass, if you will. Served up in our naan, it’s a simple plate of awesomeness, all for you.
We introduced the Ginger Pig Bacon Naan Roll as a Limited Edition, but it was so well received we put in on the menu for good. Breakfast is served between 8am and 11.30am Monday-Friday, and between 9am and 12pm Saturday and Sunday. Click here to book.
About The Ginger Pig
The Ginger Pig began life over 20 years ago with a near-derelict farmhouse, an accidental farmer and three Tamworth pigs. They now run more than 3,000 acres of farm and moorland and work with a group of like-minded farmers to supply their London butchery shops and a handful of restaurants. The Ginger Pig’s breeds include the ginger Tamworth, the black Berkshire, the Old Spot and the Plum Pudding – a Tamworth/ Berkshire cross which produces pigs that are orange with black spots. Sadly there are fewer than 500 registered breeding Tamworth and Berkshire pigs left in the UK, and they remain at risk on the Rare Breeds Survival Trust watch list. The work of The Ginger Pig is helping to make sure we don’t lose these these heritage breeds forever.
With February comes a gladdening of spirits, lighter morning skies and discernibly louder birdsong. It is also the month to bid farewell to our winter cocoons (at least partially) and tune back into the world beyond our blankets. Allow us to ease the de-hibernation process, by sharing some of the things piquing our interest this month.
“Who wants to see some magic?” Chef Arun calls out. He flings the rolled out dough into the air, sending it soaring above the counter. It spins and twists, a graceful dancer in the air. The children watch its arc, their eyes wide with wonder, until it lands gently back in the chef's hands. The children shriek in delight.
January is a most divisive month. For some it heralds the hopeful turning over of new leaves; for others it is a month to trudge begrudgingly through towards the promise of spring. Whichever camp you find yourself in, we have plentiful diversions to share. See them as the cherry atop your already gleeful January cake, or a welcome distraction while you await winter’s end.
I AM HERE, dear reader, slovenly and slouched, staring into my drink at the end of the bar in our new restaurant in Battersea. My mind is still down and out, sifting around in the dregs of ’23 but of course it knows that I should really straighten my back, raise my chin and look squarely up into the cold new light of ’24. My drink – Choti’s Punch – clear and strong, sweet with a little salt, may help.