Hitting the Top 50 – Hakkasan: Soho, Saturday 12th December, 2009

I don’t eat enough Asian food. It’s a problem I’m trying to rectify, but it’s set to be a long process of rehabilitation. As an interim, what’s the best way to get a snob like me to a Chinese? Put it in the top 100 UK restaurants.

I’d heard of Alan Yau’s Hakkasan before the other half mooted that we try the food there, and I was relatively interested. After all, good Chinese food is still cuisine that holds its own with anywhere else in the world. Especially good dim sum, which is what we went for, given that it was a Saturday lunch time.

Around £80 later (which included two pricey non-alcoholic cocktails and some water), we were full as could be and pretty satisfied. The short story is come to Hakkasan if you want to eat just about the trendiest Chinese food in London. It’s occasionally spectacular, at times a little lacklustre but more often than not, they’ve got it right. I am speaking from the experience of one meal here, but after the money we spent and the number of courses we got, I now feel like a Hakkasan veteran.

I will provide some pictorial evidence of the very good side of things, because my layman knowledge of Chinese food just isn’t going to be able to describe how good some of this stuff was. Here are some quite excellent barbecue pork puffs:


These are brilliant for two reasons: 1) The tender chopped barbecued pork inside the puffs; 2) The flaky, buttery and tremendously sweet pastry that makes the puff. When you bite into these, you almost expect to be eating dessert, but there’s something better afoot. Maybe it’s my unsophisticated western taste buds, but these always taste great to me.

On the right is something I’ve eaten before, but not really. Um… That is to say I’ve eaten dim sum roast buns before, but not venison ones. This really is my kind of Chinese. Needless to say, they were superb.

Some Taiwan-style dumplings (left) were also as liquid-filled and correctly fleshy as tradition requires. The method of eating these always entertains and challenges me: you have to slit the side of the dumpling and then drink the thin soupy sauce out of it before eating the pork and/or seafood filling.

You now have a luncheon top three from Hakkasan. Leading me to a final verdict, I’d have to say that the food wasn’t as stellar as the £80 price tag suggests it should’ve been. Other bits and pieces we got through were at times delicious, and at others just misleading. (How can duck and pumpkin puffs look and sound amazing and taste so banal?) Still, I did enjoy myself and I didn’t feel cheated, so make of that what you will.

There are a few reasons to go to Hakkasan. It’s very hip and popular and the décor is exceptional: think like a kind of spotlit dojo. It’s also worth visiting just to walk down Hanway Place with its utterly decrepit surroundings and wander into a sliding-door warehouse of luxury: think private members’ club. Lastly and most importantly, the food is rather good. It’s also exceptionally fresh. However, it can be a bit of an either-way affair, as our lunch was, and as various associates have mentioned to me. Check it out if you can, but if budget restrains, try this.

Hakkasan

The Farm: Fulham, Sunday 6th December, 2009

I’m not in the habit of reviewing places I’ve been before… Unless of course I went there before I was writing this blog, when it’s fine. The Farm falls into this category. I ate there for the second time in my life recently and for the second time I was moderately satisfied.

The Farm take rather overcompensated pride in telling you just how local and fresh their produce is. Admirable, naturally, but we’re seriously expecting this out of our top restaurants as it is. I did feel a spark of local community pride as I realised they sourced their meat from my local butcher, but that aside it was a late Sunday night and I was ravenous and keen to eat. Therefore I didn’t really have time for the page of the menu that was telling me all about their heroics in food freshness.

And yet… They do raise a good point. It is important to maintain vibrant local relationships with suppliers of local foodstuffs. It does matter that you support home grown (pardon the pun) businesses and traditionally-marketed produce. Perhaps there is something to their patter after all. Food for though it certainly proved to be. Well, it proved to be after I’d dismissed it given how hungry I was on this late Sunday night.

The food was pretty good. Some foie gras to start was typically British (so, not as good as French then) and did a job. Some mushrooms on toast was very appetising-looking if a little relentless and overbearing by the end. The bread was overcooked, the red pesto on the bread was unnecessary and the mushrooms were over-seasoned. Still, some of them went down well. The egg that came with was nice, but was drowned in the fungi somewhat

A steak that didn’t come close to Athenaeum’s which we’d started the weekend with still didn’t disappoint (although the chips were too dry and too numerous to be worthy), and the duck confit shepherds’ pie was a treat. It was an exotic-looking dish on the menu, sparkling of mystique mixed with tradition, yet when you tried it, you wondered ‘why don’t we see this everywhere?’

Desserts came and went without any fuss. I think there was some sort of chocolate fondant in there and maybe some cheesecake. By this point I was very tired and had made up my mind that The Farm is a good restaurant (and a pub in front) and it’s worth checking out if you’re near Fulham Broadway. They’re quite nice in there too, and the contemporary dining room mixes excellently with the hearty fare they produce.

The Farm

An Unexpected Winner - Athenaeum: Mayfair, Friday 4th December, 2009

One can get bored of it all. The relentless perusal of hotel restaurant menus, the over-fawning yet somehow disinterested service, the consistent themes running through the menus around London… In this ‘business’ (I don’t feel qualified or rich enough to use this term with total authenticity just yet), you need to be discerning and hard-lined. And if you’re going to try hotel food across the capital in a variety of places, you need to be able to make distinctions and judgements enough to separate the multitude of establishments vying for your custom.

Athenaeum, let me begin by saying, was lovely. Not perhaps Indigo great, but it verged between decent and excellent throughout. The starters weren’t bad: some roast goose liver with cherries and some field mushrooms stuffed with stilton. These admittedly sound quite fantastic, but they weren’t entirely what they were cracked up to be based on the descriptions. Liver – underwhelming and…cherries?! Mushrooms – too insubstantial and uneven. On the plus side, neither was unpleasant so we moved to main courses.

Now, I’m not one to baulk at spending a bit of cash on food, but sometimes you end up spending serious money on a dish purely out of curiosity. A £34 steak at a hotel restaurant is something I was keen to try. It was worth it. Superbly cooked (rare), served with some delicious béarnaise plus dressing. However, bizarrely the most important part of this dish turned out to be the chips. Thick cut, fluffy in the middle, not quite crisp but dry enough on the outside, perfect measurements and tasting quite as you always hope chips will taste. The suckling pig was also very good, though they seemed a little too proud of the pumpkin (another current craze) that came with it. Not content with merely dressing the dish, they gave us a roasted wedge of it, plus some stuffing. We ordered some decent vegetables and some exquisite red cabbage with apple on the side of these, so by dessert we were already very happy.

Desserts hit the right spots because, well, they just were the right desserts. A chocolate fondant (yawn) with Bailey’s ice cream (hmm) was very pleasant. Had they had taken the alcohol out of the ice cream, it might’ve been better. Some sticky toffee pudding was thick, filling, saucy and served with some stunning vanilla ice cream and it nearly stopped me in my tracks. It was really, really good. More or less everything you need from your classic English dessert.

I suggest you give Athenaeum a try at some point if you’re able. The food is generally enjoyable and the dining room is just lovely with bright lights, mirrors and booths all around. The staff were friendly and attentive as they should be, and we didn’t have any complaints at the end of the evening.

Athenaeum

Thoughts on Pub Eating

I recently joined some friends for a pub dinner in a tiny but stunningly charismatic pub down in Cobham, called The Cricketers. Low ceilings, open fire, wooden beams, real ales made for just about the archetypal country pub. We retired for some food after a busy evening, and as I was scouring the place for its paper menus with scampi, chicken in a basket, chips and garlic bread, I noticed what was written on the chalk board…

It was during this evening that I realised the great shift that is slowly enveloping the gastropub world. It’s no longer good enough to re-heat some pre-cooked cod ‘n chips at lunch. Consumers want more than a £5 burger for dinner. There are simply no excuses for getting lousy food in pubs any more.

This is an area we’ve touched on before. Tom mentions it in his food gripes, and my day of pub food furthered the observations I’m putting across now. Perhaps it’s the downward spiral that the economy finds itself in that has caused pubs to slowly re-think their moneymaking strategies. Of course, spending money on redevelopment and the improved quality of food might oppose this idea, but for now I’m going to assume that profit maximisation in pubs now needs to include food.

Another massive factor in improved pub eating is the fact that we as consumers expect more these days. It’s simply not enough to throw scraps at pissed punters any more. Food and eating out in general is becoming a highly profitable industry where standards are rising across the board.

The first thing I would stress to any aspiring landlord hoping to own a gastropub is obvious: get the food right. If that means cutting an expansive menu in half, then so be it. Don’t overstretch a kitchen that is likely to have less than restaurant standards in terms of staff, equipment and space. It’s remarkable that some places try to get away with the cheapest, nastiest stuff you’ll see served to you. There is no get-out here: if you’re providing food in a service industry, you have to do it properly.

Another thing to bear in mind is the target audience has to be catered for. Much as I’d like to see pates, steak tartare, venison and beef Wellington on most pub menus, it just isn’t going to fly everywhere. However, consistent with my first pub food directive, you still have to get simple, old-fashioned food right. If a pub serves sarnies, chips and salads, they’d better be good. Because I’ll tell you now, there are fewer unsatisfying dishes than a rubbish sandwich.

A feature that is also important is making enough satisfactory space for people to eat their food. The Cricketers had a large restaurant room adjacent to the bar area of the pub that made the eating experience (whilst a little desolate) exactly as it should be: the surroundings complemented the food. The food in this case was lovely. Some (slightly dry) foie gras to start, followed by pheasant with mash, then an apple crumble to finish. A mixture of classics, homely food, old-fashioned pub grub and a sparkle of continental zest… I think that’s about as good as you’d ever want from a pub meal.

I guess the point of this piece is to firstly inspire any pub-goers out there to demand a little more from your pub grub. Don’t accept some lukewarm chips and a burnt burger for a fiver; expect and pay for more. If you want to get plastered and eat some filth, stop by a kebab place on the way home.

Secondly, it’s to highlight just how important food is to pubs that choose to provide it now. We may be moving away from the days where people would go to the pub then head to a restaurant. Now we just want to do it all under one roof. So pick your food pubs carefully and enjoy.

One more off the list – La Trompette: Chiswick, Monday 1st December 2009

It’s always good to fulfil an ambition, no matter how simple it might be. I’d been hearing about La Trompette even before I started working in west London, and a colleague and I had been speculating about eating there for a good few years. Unfortunately, since the restaurant was awarded a Michelin star back in 2008, reservations became markedly more exclusive, and the prices shot up. And then the current economic crisis happened.

I assume it was in light of this that La Trompette's prices dropped as steeply as they did. Suddenly, a la carte dining was downright cheap, for the reputation of the place at least, so my friend and I decided we had to take the plunge and book a table.

There’s something about uber-modern restaurants that makes you feel like you’re dining in a scene from The Matrix. The sharp and polished edges of the place are intimidating yet elegant. I suppose that’s what makes high-end eating the edgy experience that it can sometimes be. Now, that sounds kind of uncomfortable, and sometimes it can be so, but La Trompette have nicely bridged the gap by lighting the restaurant impeccably. Small differences are often what set a restaurant apart from its competitors.

However, the most important difference is always going to be the food. For as much as experience counts, it doesn’t really matter how nice a place is if you’re struggling through average fare. Knowing that this place had a Michelin star, I went in dead against simply fawning over the food because it was reputedly great. I refused to think it was good just because it was supposed to be…

When I looked down the starters list, I was convinced they knew I was coming. I ate foie gras and chicken liver parfait (so that’s the two ultimate pate-style starters in one) to start with a slab of brioche. It was heavenly. My companion ate a very flavoursome quail pastry crescent with dressing inside. Okay, La Trompette, you win this round…

If things started well, they remained at more or less the same level for the remainder of the meal. Main courses were great, beginning with a very hearty and stunningly rich daube of beef (traditionally a casserole, though this was less stewy and more pronounced) with all the right dressings. Even parsnip puree couldn’t dampen this one. I went for the venison, which – although it incurred a supplementary cost – was a fine, fine piece of meat. Cooked rare enough, sliced thickly and laid atop a bed of creamed mash with black pudding and truffled jus… I want another one of these, right now. The small problem with this dish was that the artichokes the menu promised did not arrive. They replaced these with spinach, which to me is like trading in a Rolls Royce for a Skoda when it comes to garnishes. However, I ate and enjoyed it. Damn, they’re good…

Having thoroughly proved they deserve their Michelin star at this point (even their mistakes were delicious!), La Trompette dished up a couple of feisty desserts to see us off. A black forest ice cream concoction was well-received across the table from me, and I went for a pear and almond tart with crème fraiche and some butterscotch sauce. I was apprehensive about this, since I don’t really care for almonds and I’m not a huge fan of pears. The tart was delicious: rich, spongy, buttery and ultimately a very satisfying way to commemorate the first day of advent.

In conclusion, La Trompette is worth checking out for three reasons. And they can be broken down in terms of the courses too, which fits nicely… They do classics well (starter). They can pull it out of the hat when it doesn’t quite go right (main). They can impress with unknown quantities (dessert). If you fancy some excellent modern French food; don’t think, just go.

La Trompette

Quaglino’s: Mayfair, Monday 23rd November, 2009

If you’ve spent any time drifting in and out of London restaurants, you will certainly have heard of Quaglino’s. Well, actually, you might not have if you weren’t doing this in the Eighties.

2009 is Quaglino’s 80^th year, and it looks the part of a Mayfair institution every step of the way. Stunning long ceilings and beautiful decorations (it was the first day of the Christmas frills) make you feel as if you’re rightly living in a better, prettier world. It’s also managed to distance itself from the D&D group it now finds itself owned by; you certainly still feel like you’re in an independent and stylish restaurant.

I must once again sing the praises of Toptable here, because they had kindly reminded me some weeks ago I had a lot of points on my account with them through my excessive commitment to eating out. And these were expiring. So, without further ado, I got on the case and took advantage of a free meal with Quaglino’s.

The inevitable downside is the freebie menu being a very limited set affair. The plus point was the menu being pretty tolerable. We ate our way through a decent enough French onion soup (but really, you have to eat this sort of thing in France) and some ham hock terrine for a starter. Considering terrine is the rough country cousin of pate, I was pleasantly surprised with the quality of this one.

Main courses were better still. An impressive salmon fishcake with rich and pleasant dill beurre blanc finished very nicely indeed. And the dill didn’t ruin it either, which is a good thing. A chicken pie with porcini mushrooms was exactly as it sounds – filling and satisfying.

The tarte tatin and pavlova for dessert were also as they should be: sweet richness and fresh vibrancy respectively. So, all things considered, I was fairly chuffed with this particular free meal.

Do give Quaglino’s a try. Especially recommended during the upcoming festive season, where the appearance alone is worth a drink at the bar. If you decide you want a bit more of an experience though, stay for dinner.

Quaglino's

PJ’s Bar & Grill: Fulham, Friday November 6th, 2009

The best thing about PJ’s is its excellent ambience. It is like the classiest TGI Friday’s you’ve ever set foot in. Now approaching its twentieth year on the Fulham Road, a few friends and I traipsed in through a curtain of rain very wet and hungry. The foyer (if you can call it that) is far too small, and if there’s a group bigger than two arriving, you instantly feel like you’re in the way.

Once we had de-coated and moved to our table (where on a night as foul as this, you tended to get hit with a blast of freezing air every time the door opened), we perused the menu and ordered what turned out to be some pretty okay food. Decent pate to start (I’ve eaten so much in the last year or two that I can’t get excited about it much these days) was followed by the most over-decorated steak I’ve seen. There’s nothing wrong with that – I like my plate to be pretty and vibrant – but I have a feeling it was compensating for an underwhelming and dry piece of meat.

Having put away the onion rings, sauces, chips, mushrooms and other detritus that topped the steak, I was pretty full, but tried to find room for a chocolate fondant. This too was acceptable if not great, so it had some merit. Various other highlights from around the table included some fair lamb chops, a nice piece of chicken and an average cheesecake for dessert.

I came to three conclusions after I had dined at PJ’s, and these are as follows:

1 – The restaurant looks great but would probably be even nicer in good weather

2 – If you’re going to go there, do it to have a few drinks and bar snacks

3 – If you do go there for dinner, do so using a Taste London card

I think my tone might sum this up best: I’m neither exuberant nor vitriolic. PJ’s Bar & Grill is a lovely place, but it hasn’t provoked many reactions from me. If you decide to go, let me know if it hits you any better.

PJ's Bar & Grill

An Autobiographical Piece

I am a firm believer in food being memorable. Perhaps not to the degree of remembering the exact description and ingredients of what went into a meal, but certainly remembering the quality of the food and whether or not you had a nice time. Since food is a highly sensory pleasure, I find the memory of vivid images and auras also lingers in the memory.

Below I’ve listed my five most memorable meals. They’re all good ones (good meals tend to endure longer than bad ones), and they’re from different times in my life too. Only one of these is during the time I’ve been writing this blog, and only one is in London. Interesting that the memories of food stretch so far and so wide… Rather than list them in order of preference, they are chronological. So, from earliest first:

1) Bunters Pizza Pie: Teddington, some time in the early 90s

This certainly lends itself more to the vague recollection department. I was not ten at the time, and back in those days I was a really fussy eater. (Nowadays I call it ‘refined’…) There was not a lot I enjoyed and my choices were always limited. I did, however, love spaghetti bolognaise. It was my standard ‘favourite meal’ when I was growing up.

This particular experience is one of the first meals out I can ever remember having. We’d not long moved into a new house and my parents had promised us a trip to a local restaurant as soon as we’d got settled in. Bunters Pizza Pie on Teddington’s Broad Street has since become part of the Red Peppers chain, but I’ll never forget the night I first went there. I asked for (not ordered, asked for) spaghetti bolognaise, which I thought I could just about get through.

It came in a bowl, which surprised me. A big bowl, too. I always used to eat it off a plate. I remember thinking how different and exciting it was. I can also clearly remember feeling very good about the dish as soon as I saw it. It didn’t look like the chunky pasta ‘n sauce combo we’d eat at home – this was more of a dish, per se. It was a classic, simple bolognaise in hindsight: very smooth sauce and lots of tomato. Whilst unspectacular, this is the meal I will remember forever as exposing me to restaurant eating.

2) Fish ‘n Chips: Newquay, September 2003

This one also is vague, but less so than the youthful haze of my bolognaise adventure. Some friends and I embarked on a week-long camping trip to Newquay in search of a little late summer fun. The trip itself was glorious, with no end of frolicking in fields, general tomfoolery and food over a camp fire.

However, it’s the first day’s evening meal which sticks in my memory with such lasting nostalgia. We’d set up our tents in some relative sunshine and wandered into town. Unfortunately the heavens opened and we mutedly trudged around a deserted seaside village enveloped in grey and wet. We did, however, come across what was reputedly the best chippie in Newquay. Scampi and chips in a paper wrap and back to the campsite.

Sitting in a four-man tent in the pouring rain with five friends, eating the best scampi and chips ever: you’ll never forget it. Salt of the earth (or salt of the sea?) stuff, and the kind of memory that makes one shiver with delight.

3) Cilantro Restaurant in the Madejski Stadium: Reading, August 2004

One might even go as far as saying that this meal started everything for me. Well, started all over again, at least. Mike and I had organised a birthday meal for a friend of ours at his beloved Reading FC home ground, which basically involved a meal in the stadium’s hotel complex.

It was the first meal I’d ever eaten that included some dishes which are now staples of mine. Pork belly with pineapple sauce and artichoke hearts to start, chateaubriand for main course with Madeira jus, then a chocolate fondant for dessert. (It was with Guinness ice cream, but it was still great.) This was the first time I had eaten any of these dishes, and it was clearly a meal that had long-lasting effects!

This was the start of my education in fine dining. When you hit serious quality for the first time, you don’t forget it.

4) Veal ‘n Mushrooms: Lucca, Italy, October 2006

Eating in Italy is more often than not a memorable experience. Sometimes because you’re given overpriced rubbish out of a can that they’re flogging at an inflated price to gullible tourists, but usually because it’s Italian food as it’s meant to be cooked and eaten. Occasionally, though, you not only get the food, but you feel as if you’ve nailed the feeling of being Italian, of living a lifestyle far removed from your own, and of almost sinking into the earthy goodness of the local heartland.

Lucca is my favourite town in Italy. Located in the centre of Tuscany, surrounded by a magnificent and imposing old wall, replete with small local shops, adorable restaurants and grandiose plazas, it is a town worth visiting once you’ve had your fill of the spectacular sights of Pisa and Florence. This particular meal was on a side street somewhere in the town (I don’t remember the name of the restaurant, though it may not even have had one), which started me thinking “we’re on to a winner here”.

We sat inside at a red-and-white chequered table cloth. We were the only people in there. A football match was showing on a fuzzy television in the corner. I was presented with a piece of veal covered in a variety of fresh local mushrooms with oil and herbs. As I began eating, I started wondering how I could get enough money to buy a house in the countryside near Lucca, and where exactly in Tuscany I’d like my ashes scattered.

5) Pavilien Ledoyen: Paris, France, April 2009

And so we enter the next level of my culinary education. This is a restaurant within the general area of the Eiffel Tower, next to the river, that has three Michelin stars. It’s French food, and it’s in Paris. I think that may be all I need to say about it, in truth.

For some extra minimal details, during the course of this meal, I ate the best foie gras, the best soup, the best pasta and just about the best ice cream I have ever tasted. It’s safe to say that if you want food to knock the breath out of you, to re-shape your world, to show you little glimpses of what it’s like to be really, truly satisfied… then eat three Michelin star French food in France. Christian Le Squer’s restaurant on the banks of the Seine is brilliant, absorbing, ever-so-slightly intimidating and the greatest meal I have ever eaten.

(Disclaimer: the restaurant is only mortal. I didn’t like the squab pigeon that my other half ordered. It may not be for you should you ever go there, so please don’t hold me responsible for any misplaced trust on your part. Perfection is near impossible.)

Classy Brunch – Brompton Quarter Café: Knightsbridge, 24th of October, 2009

One area where the USA has a distinct advantage over the UK is breakfast. Now I’m not trying to compare a traditional American breakfast with a traditional English one (they’re both great), but I’m talking more about attitude to and availability of breakfast. On a week-long visit to New York a while back, I was overwhelmed by how long, how big and how varied breakfast was.

By comparison, London has some way to go when it comes to the first meal of the day. Particularly at weekends. Which us brings us to a grey and drizzly Saturday morning in Knightsbridge for some late morning brunch. Whilst The Quarter Café isn’t breaking down any international walls, nor serving rustic English fry-ups in a stereotypical London caf, it’s doing a very good breakfast selection.

Some Eggs Benedict (but of course) and Eggs Florentine were just great, despite them being served on toasted bread instead of a muffin. I thought the bread-y part of these eggs dishes was essential and just had to be a sliced English muffin… Maybe I was wrong. The key is more in the consistency of the eggs and the accompaniments. Anyway, I could not and did not complain.

We finished off with a pancake which read like it were ambrosia of the gods: a crepe with honey and mascarpone cream. This was not to be, sadly. The pancake was too thick, not warm enough and just a bit uninspiring. Same goes (although less disappointedly) for the scone we tried. Full marks for serving a choice of butter and cream on the side and good runny jam, but it was too thick and a little dry. Maybe breakfast desserts were telling us we’d overstepped the line between hunger and greed as time pushed on.

Try here if you’re in the mood for some fancy breakfast at the weekend. Recommended if you love long brunches that take you into the afternoon, not if you like your breakfasts greasy and cheap.

London Restaurant Festival: 8th-13th October, 2009

So, another week of feasting is upon us. As with restaurant week, I’ve sampled a restaurant per day, and it culminates with a group meal. Here goes nothing (and my bank balance!)…


Thursday 8th: The Albemarle at Brown’s Hotel, Mayfair

Ah, Mayfair. How I belong here. Buzzing streets full of well-dressed people, council tax rates through the roof, the most exclusive clubs in town and some great restaurants to boot. Yes, I feel I could certainly carve a niche for myself out here. (Probably sweeping streets.)

The minute you step into Brown’s, you feel as if you’ve been swept into some parallel universe where you have a lot more money than you do in reality, where everyone is nice and polite to each other and where you can walk into a hotel restaurant, point at three or four things and say “bring me these”. Unfortunately, my friend and I were brought back to earth with a thud as our (two drink) bill at the bar came to £22. Given that this included a non-alcoholic juice thing, it gives you an idea of how upmarket this place is.

I felt a bit hollow perusing the cheap set menu after browsing the wondrous lists of a la carte glory on offer, although my spirits perked up when I saw that I could have duck to start, pork belly for main course and probably then pick a dessert from the a la carte to finish. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s just what I did.

Duck on some burnt toast cake to start was better than I’ve just made it sound. I’ve pretty much described my first impression of it, but when I got into it, things improved. Very smooth pieces of duck with little bits of wild boar bacon (really?) did the job early doors. The pork belly was predictably brilliant. Since it’s becoming so popular, it’s important that you don’t present some slab of toughness when you do this dish. This was practically – as my companion described – melt in the mouth. The vegetables they gave me with it were surprisingly edible too. A sweet potato and some sort of green thing that might or might not have been an avocado that had been lightly fried… I think. Whatever they’d done to these vegetables made them taste brilliant.

Dessert was super-special. We got the Cox’s apple crumble to share, which looked a little small at first. It turned out to be excellent though. Perfect texture, not a shard of apple skin in sight, and the light, glorious crumble topping you visualise when you picture apple crumble. (I know you’ve pictured it.) Add a little jug of custard to go with it: wonderful stuff. My friend informed me that the £30 bottle of white wine he ordered was excellent too, for what that’s worth.

If you can afford it, check out the a la carte at this place (and pay for my meal while you’re at it too). Otherwise, the set menu is nothing to sniff at. Very nice surroundings, excellent service and top notch nosh. A bit too dark for me in the restaurant though. Still, serve me up apple crumble like this and you could do it blindfolded in the rain without many complaints.

Browns


Friday 9th: Pied A Terre: Soho

This is a place that I’d heard enough about previously to leap at the chance as soon as I saw it was participating in the Festival. The problem with their participation in the scheme is that it must have taken some serious arm-twisting from the organisers. We were greeted with a “you’re having the set menu? Lucky you!” that was either patronising or sarcastic.

The table wasn’t up to much either – a separated affair which set my mind to thinking of cheap seats and pretence. Perhaps I was in a bad mood. I suppose people tend to approach anywhere with pedigree and good press with an “impress me” attitude, so I wasn’t making it easy for them.

Then I found out that the festival menu was pre-starter, starter and main, with no actual choice. Thank heaven they were giving us scallops followed by venison. The pre-course was a pretty awesome mix of some tomato tart, a tiny onion tartlet, some foie gras between two filo snaps and a baffling watermelon foam thing mixed with cubes of ricotta. The first three were lovely. The last one was something of a joke.

The starter was amazing. Very fresh and smooth scallops with slightly tart reduction, along with some sprouting broccoli – enough to keep me happy. There were some nuts with it (I think they were nuts) which didn’t do anything. Following this was rare venison. I don’t think I need to say much more than that, because it was properly cooked. It had a decent dark chocolate crust thing around it and came with beetroot, spinach (tolerable!) and some potato puffs. Now, there may be another name for these, but that’s what they were. Anyway, this was a lovely dish.

Desserts were not included in the deal, so we had to cough up the £13.50 for a pudding that you usually would. Reluctantly we gave it a go because there wasn’t much on there that we particularly fancied. Fortunately we were surprised. (Maybe because we didn’t hold out much hope.) I was stunned by the pre-dessert. I don’t particularly like mango or coconut, so when we were presented by a mango and lime consommé with coconut foam and crumble, my heart, stomach and face fell. It was amazing. How they did it I do not know, but that, dear friends, is how a great restaurant can make you rethink your prejudices.

Desserts themselves were worth the punt. A sweet and bitter chocolate tart came with stout ice cream and some nut cream, which made me hold my breath ever so slightly... Neither appealed on the surface. However, this dish carried on the trend of me rethinking desserts as the pre-course had. Nut cream, alcohol ice cream… and it was good? Great result. The lime mousse was also delicious – sharp and sweet.

So Pied A Terre did alright. I’d like to go there on the usual menu, but the food on the night was worth it. I may return one day, but that might be when I have the money to live in Mayfair.

Pied A Terre


Saturday 10th: Hélène Darroze at the Connaught, Mayfair

Can’t beat a spot of lunch on a sunny Saturday. Continuing the theme of the wonderful late summer we’ve been having, I donned a cream jacket and a pair of sunglasses to wander deeper into Mayfair – and I swear this area just gets better the more you see of it – to dine at a place that came ringing with endorsements (including a recent Michelin star).

Now before I move on to the food (which was predictably excellent), I must talk of the atmosphere in there. It’s safe to say that for the first five minutes of this meal, I was the most nervous and intimidated I’ve ever been in a restaurant. I felt like every table was watching us, every staff member scrutinising us. It was uncomfortable. I don’t quite know why this was. Maybe the setting was so upmarket it threw me – the room really was beautiful. It also might have been the buffet starter procedure. I wasn’t really sure where to go or when to go there.

After the early nerves had been calmed, we’d selected our main choice courses and I was half way into my starter, I began to relax and enjoy myself. The buffet to begin was a delight: a bowl of scrambled eggs with any sides you want. I went for cured ham and smoked salmon. The eggs themselves were superbly French. Thick, creamy, not even close to dry and tasted as if they’d been made with cream. With the salmon they were particularly delightful.

One main course was scallops with tandoori spices. These were very nice with a dash of carrot puree (an oft-used accompaniment recently, I’ve noticed) and some jus. The problem was the spices nearly offset the scallops’ flavour. This is a bit of a no-no if you ask me, but they weren’t bad. Another was a burger. Now, as I’ve recently been wondering what goes in a good burger, this was something of a schooling for me. Ox cheek angus beef, gently knitted together, served with a slab of foie gras from Les Landes (Mme. Darroze’s home town). Just wonderful with home made wedge chips and ketchup.

As stuffed as I was after the impressive food so far, it was time to hit the dessert buffet. Attractively laid out were fruit salads, fresh tarts, yoghurt, pastries and suchlike… We tried some freshly made waffles (exquisitely light), a lemon turnover (tangy and smooth) and a chocolate fondant cake (I needn’t say more than that). Pudding was bloody great.
Given the price we paid (£30 for three courses) here, I cannot recommend Hélène Darroze at the Connaught highly enough. It was a pleasurable lunch in a superb surrounding, with attentive and helpful (if initially aloof) staff. The hotel is beautiful, the area superb, but the food… I could wax lyrical for a while longer, but it’d be easier if you just try it yourself.

Hélène Darroze at the Connaught


Sunday 11th: The Big Roast, City Of London

This one was the centrepiece. The one I’d earmarked as soon as London Restaurant Festival was announced. The food tours they’d organised looked good, but I read ‘top chefs’, ‘roast’ and ‘Leadenhall Market’ and was snared instantly. The set up sounded glorious: a selection of premier cooks from across the capital make their favourite roast dishes, sides are as you need them and you have 90 minutes to eat what you like. Despite the Sunday rain, I was excited.

We were directed to the pre-roast meeting place, the Prism Brasserie, where we were offered a complimentary Gin & Tonic which we weren’t allowed to substitute for something non-alcoholic, then told that the schedule was running late. Something close to half an hour later, we were sat on a long bench that made me feel a bit like I was back in school waiting for my canteen dinner. There was an unsettling feel to what was about to happen. As if the roof of the market would collapse or the floor might give way… It’s hard to explain, but something was definitely off.

After about ten minutes, I realised what it was. The Big Roast was a logistical nightmare. I’m not sure what I was expecting to be honest. Maybe I’d been blinded by the keywords that had captivated me so to begin with. The organisers had made the mistake of thinking they could get a variety of meats to 800-plus customers in 90 minute blocks. What had I done..?

We were given some acceptable broccoli and carrots, then some potatoes and parsnips… “But where”, spoke my mind, “is the meat?” If we were to get through eight chefs’ roast choices in time they were cutting it fine. Eventually, some beef was brought to the table, certainly well-cooked but a little fatty, and not a particularly generous serving for 8-10 people. There were plenty of sauces at the table, but barely any gravy in sight. The main course highlight of the event was some lamb (and we were given no indication who cooked it as it was presented) that came in a variety of cuts: chop, saddle, cutlet… Delicious. We were also given a small skewered quail, which was nice but looked and tasted like it had come from a barbecue.

Post-quail, we eagerly awaited some more game (there was a mention of deer) and the pork that we felt certain was on its way (three chefs were listed as preparing pig). Nothing came. This is where the difficulty of the task in hand hit home. We waited for our desserts for about 20 minutes (the standard wait seemed to have been far less than that) and the group next to us sat with their dirty plates in front of them for about half an hour. They asked various suited officials what was going on, none of whom seemed to know what they were doing in Leadenhall Market. The waiters and waitresses weren’t much better. When a lady next to me asked for some spoons (they hadn’t been given any) to eat their dessert with, she remarked to the waiter “we asked ages ago”, to which he replied “well you didn’t ask me” in the surliest manner possible. I’d have choked on my food if only I had some.

After asking twice to have our puddings, we finally got them and they were lovely. Small pots of rhubarb crumble with very hearty warm custard. They didn’t save the day (nothing could really), but they pulled it up enough to make me think it hadn’t been a total bust.

So here is my tip: if they ever try to pull a ‘Big Roast’ style stunt again, you either prove you’re far braver than I and cough up an extra tenner (that’d be a £50 ticket then) to have priority seating at the event, you attend one of the many ‘in-house’ Big Roast meals that restaurants all over were offering, or you don’t go. Alternatively, you could eat dinner at The Ledbury, which I certainly wish I’d done.


Monday 12th: Bibendum, Fulham

Sometimes life will present you with the odd perk. Totally unexpected, a little stroke of luck can cast a bright golden haze over anything. Monday of Restaurant Festival was one such night. Various restaurants participated in a “lucky roll” scheme where if you rolled a certain number on a die after your meal, you get your meal paid for. Guess what happened..?

Bibendum is a cool place to go, if only for the building and décor. It’s situated in the old Michelin building on the Fulham Road, which makes the whole place seem instantly old-worldly and nostalgic. Very modern inside, pretty much as you’d expect from contemporary French cuisine.

The food was good for the most part. A decent combination of red mullet (which I’m pretty sure I don’t like now) and some pastry and other seafood bits ‘n pieces was richly sea-fruity and a brilliant mix of textures. The deep fried chicken livers with béarnaise was far more up my street. Very strong, very well prepared. Main courses weren’t too bad. The duck was presented impeccably – sliced red breast, a leg joint and liver atop a potato croquette. The latter was gorgeous, but the others were overwhelmed by a very fumy and rich red wine sauce. The show-stealer was a perfectly-formed breast of chicken atop a thick and creamy pancake with cream sauce and mushrooms.

Desserts were a relatively uninspiring chocolate and prune cake and a pretty rustic lemon tart. Of course, after we’d finished, the whole thing seemed like an absolute steal for the £20 we paid in drinks and tip.

Bibendum is somewhere I would eat again, though not in a hurry. It’s a little generic for my liking, lacking the sheer class of somewhere like Pied A Terre, but not as rustic as Le Saint Julien. I could, on the other hand, be being needlessly picky. Perhaps it’s just a very pleasant place to eat some decent French cuisine on a week night without much front or fuss.

One thing that did stick in my mind after this meal was that the London Restaurant Festival had redeemed itself after the horror of The Big Roast. A free meal? Huzzah!

Bibendum


Tuesday 13th – Launceston Place, Kensington

And so the week came to a close in bizarre fashion. The three of us attended a meal at Launceston Place which we approached full of confidence and hope, and it did deliver. Or to put it another way, it was one of the worst meals I’ve had for some time. Herein lies the trouble with set menus…

Launceston Place is a lovely restaurant. I think it’s a converted pub. If it isn't, they should certainly have planned it differently, because that’s exactly what it looks like. Dark walls and vivid prints give it the necessary veneer it needs to pass off as a top restaurant, but they do have one problem, and it is the lack of space. As capacious as it looks, Launceston Place is not quite roomy enough. You’re constantly on the lookout for a stray elbow, the corner of a table or some such obstacle. The seating was strange too: they put three of us on an oval table in a corner: Tom and I sat on a bench and Mike sat opposite on a chair in a slipstream of waiters and staff. Nevertheless, there is an inherent quirkiness in the building which I like.

On to the food. None of us could complain. A sumptuous set of starters came first in the form of some partridge with brandy and wild heather – strong enough to make your head spin, soothing enough to reset it. The star starter (I should copyright that) though, was a quite brilliant goose egg risotto. Served still in the shell and topped with truffles and some soldiers (that’s right, soldiers. It is the classiest dippy egg you’ve ever seen) on the side, I was bowled over at how intensely flavoursome this was. Pockets of yolk adding a smoothness to the bold risotto, and topped with truffles. Truffles! (That’s three times I’ve mentioned truffles now, but I don’t care.)

Main courses weren’t far worse. Tom went for a very light and fine spinach and ricotta tortellini affair. Certainly not one for me, but the noises from its direction were positive ones. Perfect if you’re not looking for a heavy meal was the general agreement on this. Mike opted for some braised hare with a herb crust, on the side of which was a pear, chicory and pistachio salad. It had too much of a beery aftertaste for me, but Mike was as full of praise as I’ve seen him for some time. The combinations evidently worked a treat. I plumped (and that really is the word after this week) for the suckling pig. It was great: three different cuts, all excellent with some crushed parsnips and dressing as appropriate.

…Which brings us to the turning point in the evening. The service had been good all night. Our waiter was a softly spoken gentleman with a descriptive manner. The sommelier was a very enthusiastic and friendly American chap. And come dessert, we found ourselves faced with an extremely rude man (I think he was French, but I’m making a guess based on his accent.) We were given the main a la carte menus – perfect, we thought, a chance to order from a wider range, we’ll just pay full whack for dessert – which were promptly and literally snatched from our hands a few seconds later. “These aren’t for you”, our waiter snapped. After much to-ing and fro-ing with the staff, we discovered we weren’t eligible for a dessert unless we were going to fork out £20 for it. We didn’t and left a very small tip.

Launceston Place left us with a bitter taste in the mouth after what had been a pretty enjoyable week for me. There will be more to follow…

Launceston Place

Well, that was the six-day week that was. I may have only scratched the surface of London Restaurant Festival, but it was a lot of fun. The highlight was probably Hélène Darroze at the Connaught, whilst the low was jointly shared by the treatment at Launceston Place and the Big Roast. Still, if nothing else, the festival has certainly affirmed to me just how brilliant a place London is to live. And that can’t be a bad thing, can it?

Top 100 UK Restaurants 2009

Restaurant magazine recently published the National Restaurant Awards 2009 listings. Comprising the top 100 restaurants in the UK plus some other choice prizes, the winners podium is an interesting read. Click here for the full list of winners and the specific awards. Below is a list (along with positions) of all the London-based restaurants in the top 100:

2 Hibiscus
5 Corrigan's Mayfair
7 Chez Bruce
9 Arbutus
10 St John
11 Restaurant Gordon Ramsay
13 Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley
15 Pied à Terre
16 The Square
17 L'Anima
19 Maze
20 Terroirs Wine Bar & Restaurant
22 The River Café
23 Scott's
25 Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester
27 Theo Randall
29 Bocca di Lupo
30 Le Gavroche
31 The Ledbury
36 Le Café Anglais
38 The Capital
39 Wild Honey
41 Hakkasan
43 The Ivy
44 Murano
45 L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon
46 Locanda Locatelli
47 Moro
48 Roka
50 Zuma
53 Texture
54 Tom Aikens
55 Bentley's Oyster Bar & Grill
61 Yauatcha
62 Odette's
64 L'Etranger
65 Quo Vadis
67 Tayyabs
68 Hélène Darroze at The Connaught
70 Galvin Bistrot De Luxe
71 Umu
72 Hix Oyster & Chop House
74 Racine
76 Beauberry House
87 Hereford Road
89 Harwood Arms
100 Hawksmoor

Mandarin Kitchen: Queensway, 3rd of October, 2009

There is an inherent problem with English attitudes towards Chinese food: people think takeaway Chinese is good. “Oh, you should try the one near me, it’s great”, “Just give the sweet and sour chicken balls a go”, “I love the free prawn crackers”… Give over. Chinese takeaways are horrendous. Sugary, over-filling, too salty, poor quality and so on and so forth… I won’t keep railing against Chinese takeaways because we’d be here for a while too long. What I will say is there are places you can go which will put into perspective how rubbish Chinese takeaways can be.

Bayswater is one of the places to go for Chinese food in London. It was the original China Town before the franchise (which is what I visualise it as) moved to Soho. There are a few different places to try, notably another branch of Royal China which is always good for dim sum, but for this Saturday lunch, it was never going to be anywhere other than the Mandarin Kitchen.

Famed for their lobster noodles, that’s what we ate. Twice. So that’s two between four. Plus some duck. So that’s about £100 for four on lunch. I don’t care – the lobster noodles here are that good. Comparable to the uber-modern Pearl Liang in Paddington, the lobster is broken up into four pieces and distributed over some finely cooked noodles with thick sauce, slices of ginger and greens, and…no, actually that’s about it. Simplicity is king, especially when it comes to eating something as fine as lobster. And I’ll tell you something else: the art of serving this dish at the table is an exhibition in elegance.

These noodles are excellent. Great for lunch or dinner, I most heartily recommend them. Also, the barbecued duck with pineapple and plum sauce is delectable. There are other areas of the menu that I’m sure I’ll explore one day, but I’ll be surprised if I can ever tear myself away from the lobster noodles.

The Ideal Burger

As Tom, Mike, the other half and I prepared to watch the Pixies re-enact their masterpiece Doolittle in Brixton recently, we went to a pub called The Hive on a nearby side street to kill some time and have some food. Mike and I plumped for the burger, and after eating the semi-decent offering, I got to thinking: what goes into the perfect burger? I have broken down what I consider to be the key components below...

1) Filler: which bun should one use? How do you encase the slab of meat you wish to serve? My preference is white bread. My rule is wholemeal for sandwiches, white for hot meats. So whether it be a traditional bun, a hunk of bread or a floury bap, always go with white. You also need to consider any possible difficulties with the bread: will it fall apart if it absorbs too much grease? Will it fill you up too quickly? My choice of bun will always be a sturdy white. Not a massive bap that engulfs everything, not a thin piece of bread, just a nice bun that doesn't start to get thin and tear two mouthfuls in. No seeds either.

2) Meat: the real essence of the burger. No great surprise that there are three main rules here: quality beef (so no pre-made patties), cook it properly (medium rare or under) and season appropriately. Many places can over season for no reason other than being fancy, which is a killer mistake. Others can under-do it. And unless this is serious prime beef that's been cooked to a turn, that can let you down too. Whether it's herbs, garlic or seasoning, make sure you get the balance right. Oh, and if you get hit with the classic "we only do well done/medium" line, then you shouldn't be eating burgers wherever gives you that kind of guff.

3) Dressings: these are seriously important once steps one and two have been sorted out. Some places will try to give you a burger with egg, mushrooms, pineapple and soforth. Don't let them drag you down - this isn't a pizza you're ordering! The following toppings should not be debated: tomatoes (flavoursome and preferably large), lettuce (not iceberg), bacon (never overdone), cheese and onions. With most of these, you won't detract from the burger's glory. Nor will you get overloaded with pointless accompaniments that do nothing outside irritate.

4) Sauces: finishing touches now. You can cast the net a little wider here, but your basic four should be stuck with: ketchup, mustard, relish and mayonnaise. If the burger has been barbecued, barbecue sauce is also acceptable.

5) Sides: this is more of a top-off, since it doesn't really concern the burger. However, it's important not to overdo the side dishes. Chips, salad and potato salad in some combination should suffice.


So there you have exactly what I look for in a burger. It might be quite a personal slant, but I reckon those rules will get you somewhere near the perfection you desire when it comes to greasy beef and bread.

Lost Angel: Battersea, 30th of September, 2009

On the first of October, I awoke with a rotten stomach. I had indigestion and felt a little worse for wear. This is not to say the food at Lost Angel was bad, just that I might’ve eaten too much. In fact, I definitely ate too much. Whilst my companion neatly ate some scallops and halibut (I didn’t actually get to try these – not all my friends appreciate sharing to the same degree I do!), I wolfed down foie gras parfait, pork belly and the entire bread plate for starters.

Yes, I can be really gluttonous at times. And yes, I do have a real weakness for my favourite dishes. Sue me – I want to enjoy what I’m eating. And, of course, if you want to find out how good a place really, really is, see how the standards come out. Foie gras parfait: delightful. Pork Belly: tough on the outside, but superb meat in the middle. Chocolate Brownie: could’ve been thicker and more spongy, but no complaints.

Lost Angel isn’t a bad place. It’s a bit like a pub and a bit like a restaurant. It’s ever-so-hip in terms of it’s breeding, being run by the same group that owns Lost Society over in Clapham. The food is good but the service is slow and inattentive. We were also treated to random blasts of noise coming from the pub area which sounded as if they were from a television set. Generally speaking, it’s a decent place to go for food. It might be even better as a bar on a busy Friday night, but it is somewhat out of the way. However, if you’re in Clapham Junction or Battersea Park and you want a decent meal, don’t hesitate.

Lost Angel

Three Way Thoughts on Theo – Theo Randall at the Intercontinental, Mayfair, 23rd of September 2009

As a twist on the standard one-man review I’ve been posting many of recently, especially since the fact that for the first time in months the three of us made it out to the same meal, three reviews in one are coming up.


Tom’s review:

I arrived at Theo Randall with suitably high expectations, with it consistently gathering plaudits and awards (Jay Rayner loves it, GQ voted it their Italian restaurant of the year last year), and to an extent it lived up to its billing.

The evening started with a drink at the bar in The Intercontinental; an experience not to be recommended. (Too many suits, too much arrogance, a lack of Guinness and a ridiculous price: two bottles of Meantime + compulsory 12.5% = £11.65.) At the restaurant, we were greeted by a friendly front of house, which is something you can't say as often as you should be able to. We all opted for the set menu which came with a glass of Prosecco (lovely). We then later added an additional desert, true to form.

I opted for the Crab as my antipasti, which came with foccacia and both English and French Mustards. The flavour was excellent, with the crab tasting quite sweet and with an incredible lightness. At this point, we really must mention the quality of the bread throughout, both prior to and with my starter - served nicely warm, it was delicious. From here I moved on to the seafood risotto, which looked plain due to its presentation, but had a lovely warm and complex flavour to it. For the main, I picked the Pollo di Faraona (stuffed chicken breast served with chard and lentils), which tasted as good as it sounds. The portion was too big though, two surprisingly large fillets being served, which contrasted with everyone else’s portion being slightly under-size.

The desert of choice was a panna cotta with grappa-soaked raspberries. The texture was exceptionally smooth, and the again the excellent quality of the garnish stood out - with the Raspberries looking and tasting fabulous.

Theo's was excellent. I would recommend a trip to anyone, and it must be one of the most laid back restaurants in any of London's big hotels. However, for me it kind of missed the point of going to an Italian restaurant with friends - the food and the surroundings it’s served in should be fairly simple, but full of heart and character, the atmosphere lively and bustling. Although the atmosphere improved as the evening went on, it lacked the kind of feel you can find at either Ciao Bella or Amalfi where we've all eaten together before, which in a way was inevitable.


Mike’s review:

I have had my reservations about Hotel Restaurants ever since an underwhelming experience at Galvin at Windows a few months ago. I am also a staunch detractor of “Set Menus” (It seems rather like going to the opera and taking the seat with the obstructed view). With this in mind I approached a long overdue “catch-up” meal with Jonnie and Tom with a fair amount of caution.

Like the gluttons we are, we chose to go for 4 courses; antipasti, primi, secondi and dolce (as our Italian cousins like to call them). Among the dishes we sampled were a rather interesting smoked eel with beetroot, a fairly routine bresaola with parmesan and rocket salad, a tasty but poorly presented risotto (rather resembling a plate of gruel), a disappointing ravioli with sheep’s cheese, a tender and well flavoured piece of beef unfortunately served on a bed of borlotti beans, a nicely cooked but under-supported piece of salmon with capers and a perhaps over portioned stuffed chicken. The star course for my money was dessert, which included a very solid chocolate cake with mascarpone and a delightful take on a traditional cheese cake made with ricotta and served with marinated pears.

In summary, Theo Randall went some way towards restoring my faith in hotel restaurants with some friendly but not over attentive service and a warm and fairly lively atmosphere (particularly later in the evening). However the food, while generally well cooked and well flavoured, lacked the excitement I had hoped to find at an establishment of this stature. An enjoyable meal but I won’t be rushing back. At least not for the set menu!


Jonnie’s review:

Ever since the Taste London Festival, I have wanted to eat at Theo Randall’s restaurant. Having watched him prepare a stuffed guinea fowl breast and sampled his restaurant’s delectable chocolate cake, I’ve been – to put it bluntly – gagging to try the restaurant proper. Using a set menu deal, the three of us embarked on a journey into Mayfair with our stomachs waiting to be impressed.

Tom ventured the great idea of using the three courses we were entitled to under our set meal deal to make up antipasti, primi and secondi, then go for a dessert menu from the main menu. Four courses on a Wednesday..? Naturally!

I started with the Anguilla (chilled smoked eel) which came with dandelion hearts, beetroot and leaves. Somewhat predictably, this was tip-top: light, delicate, smooth… It was perfect fare for the wonderful summery September we’ve had in London, invoking memories of bright sunshine and plush lawns. Certainly the best Anguilla I’ve eaten (probably because it’s the first time I’ve tried Anguilla, but it was great.)

My pasta course was just about everything I personally desire in a primi: minimalist, simple, meaty and saucy. Steak in Chianti (tomato sauce) with pappardelle pasta is about as tailor-made a dish for me since I ate steak stuffed with foie gras on tagliatele in Prague. And yes, it was quite lovely.

The main course wasn’t a great one. And this is where set menus become arduous. Steak? Yes please. Medium rare? Well, alright; although I’d prefer rare. With leaves? Sure, why not? And beans? Oh dear… And pesto? Oh, lord… The meat was well-cooked but each side in turn felt like a bit of a let-down. I enjoyed sampling Mike’s salmon (exquisitely cooked) and Tom’s chicken (exquisitely stuffed), though we all found some reason to moan about the main courses.

On to desserts, which prompts a sort of “fasten your seatbelts” approach from the three of us usually, and this was no let-down. You’ve heard about Mike’s brilliant cheesecake and Tom’s excellent panna cotta, and… you’ve actually heard about the chocolate cake I ordered already here. Let me just say it was brilliant still. Somewhere between cake, mousse and brownie, ludicrously rich and sickly sweet, a healthy dollop of mascarpone cream… I could go on about this, but I have a feeling I’d give you diabetes if I did.

I did enjoy our meal at The Intercontinental. The place itself is lovely, but does feel a bit cavernous if there aren’t many patrons there. I did come to something of an epiphany throughout the meal though. For months now I’ve been caught between deciding my favourite food: Italian or French. After this meal I can tell you it’s French. The realisation I’ve come to is that, whilst I could probably eat Italian food every day of my life, French food is often spectacular. And it’s really hard to make Italian food spectacular.

In fact, how about a compromise..? French food at restaurants, Italian food at home.

Kickin’ it With the Trendies – Kumo, Knighstbridge, 19th of September, 2009

I don’t eat enough Japanese. In fact, I don’t eat much of what the Far East has to offer which, if you consider the Michelin Guide’s recent surge towards Tokyo, is pretty bad. On a late Saturday night, Mike, my other half and I decided to have some half-price Japanese eats at what we thought would be a trendy restaurant in Knightsbridge.

It turned out to be a trendy bar that also served food. As such, our late attendance meant that most of the meal was spent trying to shout over the frankly terrible music that was being blasted across the floor. The evening certainly had a casual feel, since we were more or less sat at a low drinks table as we ate.

Having come to terms with the fact that Kumo was indeed a bar and not a restaurant, we were a little edgy about what to expect. Our waitress had a beaming (and near constant) smile, but didn’t appear to know much about the food – we asked what a particular ingredient was, and how much we should expect from a bowl of rice, and both times she needed to consult the kitchen.

So, to the food. Bloody marvellous at times, pretty good at others. It was a pleasant surprise to be presented with some light squid with spicy dipping sauce to start with, followed by some incredibly delicate chicken with spring onion, grilled on skewers. Really fine snack fare to kick us off. Seconds were a very lively if not-at-all-traditional-Japanese chicken breast with a cream, wasabi and mushroom sauce, and some quite wonderful scallops. The former was ever-so-slightly tangy with the wasabi in the sauce and very properly cooked. The latter were just brilliant. As light, juicy and fabulous as you expect good scallops, served on a bed of greens which included lettuce and seaweed.

All in all, the night of eating in a bar told me two things: firstly, I need to be eating more Japanese; secondly, you need to get to Kumo early if you’re eating!

Kumo

Amalfi - Soho, 18th of September, 2009

Going back to old favourites, well-trodden paths and popular haunts can be a dangerous game, and I fear things are getting that way with Amalfi. Bang in the middle of one of London's most vibrant and colourful areas, Old Compton Street, Amalfi is a classic. It has a stunning capacity, with over 100 covers possible in the place, and the downstairs dining experience is one that resonates well with Soho's rustic Italian heritage.

The menu is one of familiar regularity. I don't recall trying anything there I haven't enjoyed. The pasta is passable, the pizzas genuine, the meat is well-cooked and the desserts are all great.

On the other hand... I've noticed that their mushrooms with polenta (a one-time banker of a starter) has been slowly in decline. I once dined there with Mike and Tom, and Mike's rack of lamb came to the table cold. Never mind that it was delicious when heated, that is just unacceptable. Dessert on this occasion was iffy: the chocolate sauce on our crepes was powdery and insubstantial.

Then again... Their Gamberi Piccante - warm tomato spiced chilli sauce with prawns - is always on the money. Carbonara there is as it should be (not easy to do, by any means), and the Polpette (meaballs on spaghetti) are far better than some others I've had. You can eat the whole dessert card: there is zero filler here. Crepes, tiramisu, apple pie, cheesecake, panna cotta. All are competitive when on song.

I guess the point I'm making is: be careful how many times you re-visit your standard choice places. Try to keep things fresh and go to as many new places as you can. All it takes is one or two flaws, and suddenly your favourite little place becomes boring, stale and utterly fallible.

Still, if you're in the area...

Amalfi

Money-Saving Tips for Eating Out

Now, without trying to get too autobiographical, I'm not rich. I'm certainly in no financial position to be eating out all the time...at fully-priced restaurants. There are two main reasons I can afford to produce the volume of reviews that I do. The first is being pedantic enough to document just about every meal I eat out of my house; the second regards money-off deals.

Pretty much every booking I make is done through TopTable. Many of you may already know about or use this website, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. They run offers all the time, some of which have allowed me to eat some stunning meals across not just the capital, but other cities and even other countries (they currently run reservations in 14 different nations). I cannot recommend trying this franchise out highly enough. You accrue points as you attend more reservations and these can eventually add up to a free meal or gifts.

The second, more recent, deal-maker I have been using is the Taste London website (they of the festival fame). They operate on a similar scheme to TopTable, but you also get a fancy card to go with your application. The main difference between the two sites is this one costs money. £70 for the year, it's worth investing in for their 50% off deal with Pizza Express alone. There are a good few restaurants across the capital that subscribe to their scheme, and their search facility is excellent. Whilst not as detailed as TopTable, it still outlines the procedure you need to follow for booking and dining with a Taste London card at any particular restaurant. (For example, some you may need to call ahead and mention the card, others may have a limited usage.)

Both schemes are fabulous and hugely important in bringing decent eating to more than just those with an income surplus. I like both sites and both serve excellent purposes, but my preferred one at this moment in time is TopTable, simply for the great depth they can give you with menus, pictures, reviews and information on their site. Great newsletter too, and it's free!Look into these if you feel you need to start eating out more.

TopTable

Taste London

Square Pie Co. – Spitalfields Market, 13th of September, 2009

It’s lovely to hit the markets at the weekend. Whether it’s looking for fine foodstuffs at Borough on a Saturday, or nostalgic antiques at Portobello road or gimmicky fashion at Camden, there is charm aplenty and usually some decent bargains to be had. When it comes to food, you’ll find things veer from the disgraceful to rather lovely. In the Spitalfields market hall resides one of the Square Pie Company’s premier spots. Chain eating can certainly have its advantages, and stopping for a quick bite whilst zooming ‘round the stalls here was one.

They operate a pretty standard tried-and-tested formula: pie + mash + peas/beans + gravy = £7. You can’t really complain about this, because the pies aren’t half bad. Considering they have to be made and cooked in a pretty short time frame and wheeled out swiftly, they’re actually decent fare. As much cop as they are at a festival, Square Pies aren’t a bad bet if you’re in the mood for uncomplicated and quick traditional English fare.

Square Pie

L Restaurant: High Street Kensington, 9th of September 2009

This was a nice little jaunt on a midweek evening. I’d eaten here once before for a birthday lunch and thoroughly enjoyed it then, so my standards were pre-set and high enough. However, since this was an evening occasion, I was more aware of the bar at the ground level of the place, which was suitably sedate on the previous lunch. In the evening, it was still fairly empty, only now playing latin-themed muzak far too loud. (Certainly loud enough to wend its way down the stairs to the restaurant to offend me.)

We went for that ever-present classic chicken liver parfait to start, and I loved that this particular version of the starter was some way between a parfait and a pate. I’m not certain if this is technically correct, but it worked really well with the crispy thick bread and jellied sherry dressing. If it’s good, I just cannot get enough parfait these days.

Main courses went well. A very competitive cut of pork belly with slightly chorizo-infused jus, cherry tomatoes and potatoes did not disappoint at all. It was crunchy on top, chewy underneath and then smoother at the bottom. I find a good cut of pork belly is hard to dislike, so as long as it’s cooked properly and the sides are right. With this, we tried some sea bream, presented as fish is often done these days: stripped off the bone, skin on, sliced long and piled in the centre of the plate with a few dressings. I can never complain about fish like this, but it always seems a little insubstantial to me. (Maybe that’s my hearty British meat-eating appetite baring its teeth a little too much though…)

Desserts weren’t too shabby either. A chocolate fondant (but of course) with some too-strong orange sorbet was fairly enjoyable. (But again – why overcomplicate something of such simple purity with some crazy accompaniment?) We also tried the Caramel Millefeuille, which I have to say was excellent. A sort of layered cake made from thin pastry slices with strongly sweet cream and some caramelised sugar decoration, it was light and very comforting.

If you’re near High Street Kensington then I suggest checking out L Restaurant for a meal. Equally useful for lunch or dinner, the quality is certainly high enough to make me want to try it a third time.

L Restaurant

A Bank Holiday Weekend To Remember: Here & There, 28th-31st of August, 2009

Much like restaurants you’ve heard good things about, Bank Holidays often have that air of disappointed expectation about them. Where you’re going to go, what you’re going to do, who you’re going to meet up with… It inevitably turns into a lounging-fest which, whilst relaxing, is a little way short of the fulfilled weekend you promised yourself a fortnight ago. And don’t get me started on the weather we usually end up with…

Since I wasn’t going away on holiday this time, I thought a weekend of fun eating might serve well. I made a couple of hotel restaurant bookings (these are quickly becoming my staple) and during the weekend, another couple of tasty treats unfolded from the mix.

I’ll start at the beginning. My last dining experience in an Aldwych hotel was one of spectacular lonesomeness (devotees may remember the meal for one at the Waldorf Hilton during restaurant week), so I was happy to be going back there with another person this time. Indigo at the 1 Aldwych hotel promised to be a great evening’s eating from the moment we were seated in our wide reception-room chairs. I enjoyed the cosy feeling of lounging in my little throne on the mezzanine level of their eating and drinking complex as we were served most uninterruptedly; first water, then bread (butter and oil as standard – bravo!), then our starters.

There are dishes which need only explanation. All that is required after that point is a brief summary of whether or not said dish lived up to its description. I was lucky enough to have one such dish this Friday: scallops and pork belly. I need say no more than this: exceptional. Along with this, we tried a fairly decent carpaccio of beef which came with rocket (tolerable) and shaved parmesan (more like it), which wasn’t bad.

Main courses were also pretty special. Some modern classic veal – by which I mean sliced meat accompanied by jus, carrot puree and fondant potato sides – which we ordered rare hit the spot instantly. Bold flavours, subtle textures and zero filler: more please. With this we tried a simply stunning piece of duck breast. It was cooked pink as it should be, then thickly diced and served with blackberries, jus, bitter cauliflower florets and small potato spheres. This was some damn fine eating.

Desserts were the crowning achievement of the evening. And I say this because we decided to test ourselves with three desserts between two. A spot-on crème brulee, a syrupy and sweet white chocolate panna cotta with strawberry soup (strawberry soup!) and then a very bizarre upside-down cheesecake that looked weird (base on top with cheese pellets as decorations) but tasted great.

Indigo started the three-day weekend on a soaring high. Nothing I could really complain about here. If you’re going to do similar things to other restaurants, do them memorably and do them bloody well.

Saturday evening turned out to be more of the same, really. Another hotel, more modern European fare, another lovely part of town: The Bloomsbury Street Bar & Grill. This meal went from stellar to decent (which immediately makes it worse than Indigo) but that’s not to say it was bad. Part of the reason it slid downhill is because the two starters we tried were just fantastic. A duck platter which included seared foie gras, confit, cold shredded meat and liver parfait was about as good a use of duck I’d seen since…well, the night before really. Stunning stuff, served with sweetened softened apple slices, thick lightly toasted bread and fig jam. To go along with this, we ate a mackerel and rhubarb combination, served cold with chive crème fraiche inside a fine pastry nest. Bizarre indeed, but fresh, refreshing and highly recommended.

Main courses and desserts didn’t quite match up to what we began with. A pretty lovely piece of chicken cooked with a rich, buttery herb sauce and some decent vegetables was slightly let down by the potato fondant that came with it, which tasted as if it were out of a packet. The steak we went for was served with cooked cherry tomatoes on the vine which I liked, but was nothing exciting. Very edible though, which really does count with steak

Desserts were flamboyant if ultimately a little anticlimactic. A peach sorbet, meringue and ice cream assortment was lovely to look at, if only vaguely interesting to eat. Likewise, the white chocolate truffle with cherries started well, but fell away slightly with the wedge of cherry-esque jelly they stuck in the middle of it. Could’ve been better to finish.

Still, I wouldn’t complain that much. It’s a nice place, the Bloomsbury Street Bar & Grill, even if it’s drape-lined room is a bit dark, it’s a beautiful modern dining hall and it’s in a gorgeous area. Friendly service too.

Sunday night saw me prepare and cook a cracking carbonara for Tom and some other friends. It was great. (No false modesty.)

Monday transpired out of a discussion with Tom on the Sunday, as I found out he and some other friends were heading to The Boundary, Terence Conran’s hotel and restaurant complex on a rooftop in Shoreditch to celebrate a couple of birthdays. In the hopes that I could have a fourth great meal in four days, I naturally leapt at the chance.

The Boundary is made for sunny days spent with friends. We enjoyed our wooden tables underneath the material roof as the sun spread across the view of the east end, and the day got hotter and hotter. The atmosphere was just about right, but alas the food did not follow the standards of the weekend. The good parts were: a steak that was tender enough, simple and well-cooked; a chocolate pot that was suitably rich and concentrated; and a pavlova to share that just beggared belief. This thing was the size of a cartoon jelly and the eight of us devoured it unceremoniously. On the downside were some very fresh yet rather bland large prawns and red mullet. I’m almost moved to think that I’m not really that into seafood, because there must be a part of eating these dishes that I’m missing.

The other bits and pieces that I managed to try weren’t too bad: some interesting enough poussin (barbecued chicken to you and me), okay salad, lean lamb chops, nice stuffed bread to start, and a cracking bowl of raspberry ripple to finish things as we relocated to some reclining chairs late in the day. It can be a great day up there on the rooftop, but I think the draw of the place is its exclusivity and its views. The food isn’t bad but it is pricey. I get the sense the best thing to do up there is while away a few hours with some snacks and a cocktail or three. Also check out the fine foods shop on the ground floor, Albion.

That was, my friends, the weekend that was. Super weather (at times), superb food (at least once): a well-spent three days. Oh, and many happy returns to Tom!

Indigo

Bloomsbury Street Bar & Restaurant

The Boundary

24-Hour Dining, Vingt-Quatre – Fulham, 21st of August, 2009

There’s something about food that stirs a primal feeling of need, of instinctive desire. Usually, said feeling occurs after prolonged periods of tiredness, hunger, drinking or all three. Vingt-Quatre of Fulham is a place that caters to these needs whilst serving up most agreeable eats. Convenience has never been London’s speciality, but there are times when you really appreciate exceptions such as this…

As you might expect, this restaurant is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, which I have to say I am impressed by. Of course, you can get 24-hour Chinese nosh in the West End, and goodness knows how many all-night pizza/chicken/kebab places there are operating all over the capital. Yet Vingt-Quatre stands alone (in my mind at least) as somewhere you can retire to at 2am to enjoy a superb Eggs Benedict, or a properly dressed, properly cooked rare burger with chips.

On this (rather early) visit on a Friday, I enjoyed a well-layered and delightfully cucumber-less club sandwich with frites. Just the job with a dollop or three of ketchup on the side. Lightly toasted white bread, stacked properly (although a smidge on the dry side), it certainly sorted me out. My other half plumped for the American breakfast, which I have eaten and enjoyed there, but is possibly a little too rich for me. Scotch pancakes, crispy bacon, powdered sugar, fruit and syrup… I think the description alone suffices.

Desserts aren’t half bad either. Decent apple crumble with ice cream certainly filled a hole, and the chocolate brownie (considering I could only try a small amount of it since it contained nuts which I cannot abide) was pretty good too. I also most heartily recommend their banoffee pie.

The downside is the fact that the menu is limited (but it would always have to be in a place like this), and it is also hampered by the need to get tables turned around quite quickly the later into the night you get. However, I strongly suggest checking this place out. My recommended time to do so is any time after midnight on a Friday or Saturday night. Go out for a while, have a few, enjoy yourself… and when you think the night’s ending at a reasonable hour – but ooh! Wouldn’t some tucker be great right now? – then you will know it’s time.

Vingt Quatre

Underneath The Arches – Nar Restaurant, Vauxhall, 20th of August, 2009

Mike and I met up for a catch-up and a meal on a slightly eerie windy and grey evening, and decided to try Nar Restaurant underneath the Vauxhall railway arches. There’s something about eating, drinking or socialising underneath the arches that makes me think of smoke-hazed air, great jukeboxes, a bustling atmosphere and intimate conversation. What we encountered here was a little different. Dolls’ house wallpaper and chandeliers and rows of tables certainly didn’t translate to the speakeasy theme you long for in a rustic London surrounding.

The first reason said atmosphere doesn’t work is the restaurant just looks odd to begin with. A restaurant that looks like a small aircraft hangar with tables and candles does not inspire an image of fine dining. The second reason it doesn’t work is that when you’re eating a meal in a restaurant that looks like it’s trying to be elegant, you don’t really want to hear trains trundling past with alarming volume above your head.

Of course, this might not have mattered if the food had been good. It wasn’t amazing though, and at times it was just plain bad. Whitebait with tartare sauce is hard to get wrong, and so it proved to be a good’un here. The restaurant was Mediterranean-themed, which sounds promising, but when anywhere is focusing on the Greek/Turkish side of Mediterranean, you may need to approach with caution. (Guess where Nar draws its inspiration from.) As such, I hoped the grilled Cypriot halloumi I ordered to start would be better than relentless, dry and underpresented. Annoyingly it wasn’t, and I couldn’t finish it.

The lamb shank I ordered for a main course was decent enough, if not particularly interesting. I wish they hadn’t pelted the sauce with celery, but it was very easy to eat and not stringy at all. Unfortunately, burnt moussaka is never acceptable whatever the standard of restaurant. The most frustrating part of the evening was the near half-hour wait we endured to be given dessert menus. I tried to find some at the reception desk, but they didn’t seem to have any. We only got them when we requested them. By this point, the passable cheesecake and annoyingly not warmed chocolate fudge cake weren’t enough to raise our spirits.

Under-staffed might be a fair criticism, but you can sometimes get past this if you enjoy the food enough at a restaurant. However, when one of the starters is too dry, one of the mains is burnt and the desserts take half the evening to arrive, you’re suddenly longing for a plate of egg and chips underneath the railway arches, sans any twee decorations and pretences of fine food.

Nar Restaurant