I'd heard good things about the cheap, streetwise glory surrounding Wahaca for some time, so when I met up with a couple of friends for dinner there I was hoping for some heart and soul with my Mexican food. I wanted to taste the passion and spice that makes Central American food so lustily demanded in America and so fashionably lauded over here.
It might be no surprise to hear that I did not find it in a packed Westfield eatery. (Nice try with 'White City', Wahaca.) I suppose that's implied by the words "Westfield Eatery", though I have enjoyed the odd enjoyable meal there before. There is something that's quite nice about the Southern Terrace at Westfield, with its attempts at greenery and straight-from-Asia water features (though in Asia they'd be cleaner), especially on a summer evening. There are loads of people about and the mood is good.
Wahaca wasn't a disaster, but the place just doesn't deliver the sort of thrilling food you want it to. We sampled a variety of dishes which ranged from good to below average, but the feel of the place is not a satisfying one. Strangely, our waitress suggested that we'd asked for too much to eat, so we might want to consider dropping a dish. Now, firstly I do admire the honesty; not many places would encourage you to eat less. However, I don't think it was necessarily true – I could've eaten more but then again I am rather greedy. The drinks were terrible. I wish places would start offering more interesting ideas for non-drinkers than virgin mojitos. (I was not massively enthused by hibiscus water or horchata – rice milk?! – either.)
The other problem I have with this meal is that it left no impression on me whatsoever. I can't fully recall what I ate there. Yes, a lot of this is due to my tardiness; it's something like four months since I actually ate the meal. Still, if food is good enough, it usually leaves some sort of positive impression. There was some pork, some cod, some chicken, all served in or with a variety of Mexican carbo-fare: quesadillas, tortillas and rice. I won't complain about it, but neither will I praise it.
There isn't much more to say about Wahaca. It's convenience food that's a few notches above Nando's but not half as fun as it could be. But then again, the model that they have employed at Westfield is one that will make them a lot of money without breaking a lot of sweat. I won't go back to their White City branch, but there just might be something to be said for their flagship venue in Covent Garden.
The Sunday lunch the other half and I sampled was, for the most part, lousy. The one shimmering beacon of acceptability was the first course. Oysters were fresh and tasted as they should (left). The expert dissection across the table was indicative that these weren't to be derided, and the glorious plop that was sent my way was good enough for me. I ordered the foie gras with wood pigeon, atop brioche with some dressings. Now, this dish should be magnificent. What I got was not. I don't know how it's possible to make foie gras taste cheap and un-worldly but Criterion managed it. The pigeon wasn't bad in the event, but the sauce (apple and tomato relish) was far too sweet and detracted from the main events. I enjoyed the first bite, doubted the second and was indifferent to the rest.
It's always helpful if you can start a day of eating off with a bang, so when we managed to experience two quick high points at the beginning of the event, things looked good. We immediately headed for a throng of visitors surrounding the 
Whilst all this queueing was going on, we spread the net a little wider to gather another three dishes to start the day with. Trinity was also offering the more standard pork belly (right), which was correctly seasoned, accompanied and served, even though the crackling was a little hard. We also stopped in at 
Having munched our way through a fairly rich set of first courses, we gave our bodies no rest at all and hit 
What followed were two slightly less impressive takes on dishes from a year ago. Again, 
After a short break for a juice cocktail and the nice surprise of bumping into a couple of other friends, we headed for 
As we surveyed the festival and our watches, we realised that we'd eaten just about all we could - in terms of capacity and available funds - so we turned our minds to desserts. We still had room to revisit Theo's delectable cakes and Tom's average Eton Mess as I mentioned earlier, but we also discovered a couple of stunners to see us off. We wandered back past L'Anima to try their Delizia de Limone, which was less the classic lemon tart I'd anticipated and more a delightfully crumbly mess of a dish (right). By no means a pick of the day, but very enjoyable nonetheless, and a classic summer dessert to boot.
We saved two of the best for last. Whilst the 
The burger is not on the Joe Allen menu. But ask and ye shall receive. And what a burger it is too (left). Grilled properly, properly rare, served with pickles, cheese, bacon (if you want it) and onion, this is something that has to be tasted to be believed. You can get great English and European burgers if you look hard enough, but I've not tasted as good an American burger as this since I was in New York. Chips on the side are skin-on, salty and perfect.
Their lunch offer was £20 for three courses, which seemed ludicrously reasonable, and it did not disappoint. Something similar to the goose egg risotto we'd tried before was a poached duck egg with toasted brown bread and truffle sauce (left). And that is a fine way to start any Saturday lunch. The risotto of beef, beetroot and garlic that completed the course was challenging, but very fresh. Not quite as you expect risotto – much lighter and more summery – it did the job nicely.
Dessert was a quite brilliant apple tarte tatin to share (left). Crisp, buttery, sweet and filling, it was nothing short of sublime. In fact, it was the best tatin I've eaten, and that includes some fine efforts in Paris. It was slightly chunkier than the traditional French thinly-sliced apple, but that seemed to make it better. Graciously sliced and served at the table, it was bliss.
If you’re in the West End and you fancy a spot of afternoon tea that isn’t served off paper plates from a St James Park café, check it out (left). At £18 per head for a fair whack of afternoon tea (and whack we did – a thoroughly unnecessary second helping of cakes plonked on at the end) is not a bad shout. And watching droves of tourists traipsing past whilst you feel snooty as anything? You can’t complain about that.
Right, I think I'm done ranting about the place itself, so I might as well get on to the food. Fortunately, as soon as our starters were placed before us, the whirlwind of flustered waiters and chatty diners faded away in the light of a divine trio of oysters. As great as oysters are, I've never been much of a fan. I can eat one and that's enough for me. One O One seems as if it's been listening to me and served us three styles on one plate (left). The yuzu sorbet with vodka was great, the classic shallot vinegar was better, but the tempura-battered oyster took the first prize. Just eating a battered oyster is wonderful in itself; it is like having foie gras and chips.
Our starters proper weren't too shabby either. Some scallops with pork belly and a delightful splurge of quail's egg along with potato was over-sauced but opulent in the extreme. A lobster salad was not quite a salad per se, but it was a vibrant mixture of apple dressings, chilled langoustine-y richness and a bit of stellar presentation to boot (right).
So, back to meat - not what this place is famous for, I remind you - and things were a little better. Well, set to the tune of spring lamb in May, I'll enjoy whatever you put in front of me (left). Good things: the lamb was cooked correctly and beautifully, the parmesan was a sharp spear of salty contrast, and it looked great. Bad things: they had tried to go for colour over taste - there was no need to over-complicate things with the addition of garlic gnocchi (yes, we can see: they're green!) and olives, and the asparagus was slightly over-cooked. Better than the halibut, but not massively.
Desserts were a little muted, given the level of our indulgence up to that point. Some brownies were pretty decent, served with salt caramel and coffee ice cream. Sadly again, the dish had been overdone with ideas and ingredients, because the base part was good but subdued. Fortunately, the day was stolen by a sensational panna cotta served with granny smith apple and blackberry (right). A mixture of hyper-sweet creamy main event with the chilled sour snaps of the sorbet on the side... Take notes, Proyart - this is how you combine ingredients to make them sing.