It's nice to be surprised, especially by restaurants (provided the surprise is a good one.) Not too long ago, the other half and I were in Ireland for a wedding. Our trip included a wonderful three-day spell in Galway. Galway isn't necessarily somewhere one might expect to visit in Ireland - even though it's way better than Dublin - but it is a city rich in desolate, simple, coastal beauty. A relic from another age, punctuated with spellbinding views and aging industrial infrastructure. And the birdwatching was great. Despite a tragedy of a meal in our hotel on our first night, the stay ended with three wonderful culinary surprises.
Firstly, we ate a trio of rhubarb that was so exceptionally complimentary and refreshing that it ought to be on menus throughout the British Isles. Fortunately for Galway, it's too rustic and down to earth to be but the quality of the millefeuille, jelly and ice cream on the plate was breathtaking. Secondly, we ate a breakfast of croissant with home-made rhubarb jam (no prizes for guessing the season we were there) which was so amazingly sweet and tart that we took two small jars of it home. Finally, we ate a glorious steak on a hot stone on our final evening, served with amazing sides.
Finding something like this in the city you live in is unlikely, since everything is on-line, everyone talks about how amazing "that place near me" is, and quite often if you find somewhere you never heard of it turns out to be rubbish. Of course, you can also have somewhere you had heard of but had no idea where it is turn up right before your eyes. This is what happened to us one November weekend last year.
Indian Zing just crept on to the UK's top 100 last year, catching my eye simply because it was apparently down the road from me. It appeared unexpectedly as we walked past it whilst looking for a different restaurant. Knowing as I did that it apparently is one of the best hundred restaurants in the UK, we quickly changed our plans and walked in.
I'll say right away that it was a good restaurant, but unsurprisingly, not quite as good as I had hoped. Lunch was an elegant, sophisticated two-courser which one wouldn't necessarily expect to find two doors down from the enormous Polish Cultural Centre in Ravenscourt Park.
The sides were really good. And that makes such a difference with Indian food. Proper, crisp poppadoms and a basket of assorted breads to start with proper, flavoursome dips and dressings. Having said that, I do not understand the point of lime pickle whatsoever. Foul stuff, in the case of every Indian restaurant I've tried.
Lunch ended up being four courses served with a much more professional air than you may have tried elsewhere in London. The problem with curry being the nation's favourite food and London housing a multitude of Indian food clichés is that you quite often get rubbish food, served to you by people who want to be your mate as much as bring you some vittles.
The food itself was also rather pleasant, with that being about the best you can say about it. Starters were enjoyable enough, served on thick green leaves to make them look interesting. Some green peppercorn malai tikka was pretty dry, even if the chicken wasn't overdone. I'm a bit of an Indian food philistine and I need my sauces. After all, what's better than dunking good naan bread into steaming hot curry sauce?
Our other starter was a shami kebab, apparently a house special. Now "house special" is a phrase that I usually treat with the same disdain in Indian restaurants as I would "just like mama used to make" in an Italian. It turned out to be fairly decent. A little on the spicy side for me but that's because I can't really handle spices. The other half really enjoyed it.
Main courses were more what I wanted: metal pots containing food and sauce. More sophisticated version: some lamb rogan josh which apparently contained "a strong punch of knuckle juice and marrow." That, to be honest, was all I needed and it turned out to be rather lovely. Not too spicy, not too sweet and just enough of that punch to make it worthwhile. Elsewhere, the fillet of fish which made up the tawa macchi just didn't manage to fight through the sauce it was coated in. The sauce is great, but the balance must be right.
Naan bread was delicious and whilst the pot of day's vegetables was too spicy for me, we ate our two courses and decided to skip dessert. Not a great, meal, not a bad one, but I would go back. And the main reason is the price. £12 for two courses for a weekend lunch. I don't care what you're after, that's a cheap lunch.
Indian Zing probably isn't one of the best 100 restaurants in the UK. It's not the best neighbourhood Indian place in town. It didn't blow my socks off. But for a casual lunch, served impeccably, it might just be the best you can find in west London.
Indian Zing
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Monday, 26 September 2011
Polpo: Soho, Saturday November 6th, 2010
On a whim one November Saturday evening, I surprised the other half with a trip to Polpo, quite possibly the hottest restaurant in Soho. Screeching into the UK's top 100 weeks earlier, with ringing endorsements from just about anyone who'd eaten there, it was certainly the place to be eating in W1.
Polpo is what's known as a Bacaro, or a small Venetian-style inn. Traditionally serving drinks and snacks, it doesn't sound much to crow about, but when the snacks are authentically Italian, the setting is trendy and the place is in Soho I suppose it does take on a slightly elevated air of expectation.
Polpo is hot, busy and cramped. It's all elbows and arses trying to get around the place and it has a sense that it was only set up yesterday with a skeleton staff running things. It's full of people trying to shout louder than the nearest table and exclaim with that little bit more flamboyance than the slightly foppier drunkard on the other side of the room. Sort of like an art opening only with no art, but with food. So it's better than an art opening.
Conceptually, once you take out all the slight annoyances, it's spot on. Italian tapas, more or less. You may not be able to book a table there but it is sure worth the uncomfortable wait. Polpo has that rare gift of being able to make you feel as if you're actually in a different country. Apart from all the English being spoken I suppose.
We ate a hearty mix of small dishes which were, by and large, rather special. The underlying key to all this hype, pretence and atmospheric frenzy is that the food has to be good. Otherwise what you're left with is a frustrating husk which promises everything and delivers nothing.
So, showing that Polpo is certainly a little more than your run of the mill Soho pretender to Italian convenience food, we ate: chopped chicken liver, potato & parmesan, pizzetta Bianca (a mini white pizza), wild mushroom piadina, sliced fillet steak, duck ragu, fritto misto, grilled polenta, Sfogliatina and a hot chocolate pot. Quite a haul I'm sure you'll concede.
However, as I mentioned before, this is Italian tapas. These were all tastefully small plates, presented impeccably and for the most part, delicious. Some, such as the polenta, were a bit too heavy, a bit too rich, a bit too plodding about Soho having got too lashed too early in the evening... (Polenta can do that apparently.) But some, such as the fillet steak, the piadina (flat bread with a variety of sumptuous mushrooms) and the fritto misto (miscellaneous seafood battered, deep-fried and served with lemon) were actually superb.
You will not be able to walk in to Polpo on any night of the week, guarantee a table at short notice and have every dish put in front of you take your breath away. But you will be able to go in there and have a pretty fulfilling and exciting dinner for two at under £60 (as long as you don't have wine), enjoy some cracking Italian food and feel as if you are in a genuine Venetian establishment.
My personal tip is to go for a lunch there. You can book and it's quite the place for a little midday refreshment. The evening we had there was great though; the hype well justified and the venue's place in contemporary Soho folklore truly sealed.
Polpo
Polpo is hot, busy and cramped. It's all elbows and arses trying to get around the place and it has a sense that it was only set up yesterday with a skeleton staff running things. It's full of people trying to shout louder than the nearest table and exclaim with that little bit more flamboyance than the slightly foppier drunkard on the other side of the room. Sort of like an art opening only with no art, but with food. So it's better than an art opening.
Conceptually, once you take out all the slight annoyances, it's spot on. Italian tapas, more or less. You may not be able to book a table there but it is sure worth the uncomfortable wait. Polpo has that rare gift of being able to make you feel as if you're actually in a different country. Apart from all the English being spoken I suppose.
We ate a hearty mix of small dishes which were, by and large, rather special. The underlying key to all this hype, pretence and atmospheric frenzy is that the food has to be good. Otherwise what you're left with is a frustrating husk which promises everything and delivers nothing.
So, showing that Polpo is certainly a little more than your run of the mill Soho pretender to Italian convenience food, we ate: chopped chicken liver, potato & parmesan, pizzetta Bianca (a mini white pizza), wild mushroom piadina, sliced fillet steak, duck ragu, fritto misto, grilled polenta, Sfogliatina and a hot chocolate pot. Quite a haul I'm sure you'll concede.
However, as I mentioned before, this is Italian tapas. These were all tastefully small plates, presented impeccably and for the most part, delicious. Some, such as the polenta, were a bit too heavy, a bit too rich, a bit too plodding about Soho having got too lashed too early in the evening... (Polenta can do that apparently.) But some, such as the fillet steak, the piadina (flat bread with a variety of sumptuous mushrooms) and the fritto misto (miscellaneous seafood battered, deep-fried and served with lemon) were actually superb.
You will not be able to walk in to Polpo on any night of the week, guarantee a table at short notice and have every dish put in front of you take your breath away. But you will be able to go in there and have a pretty fulfilling and exciting dinner for two at under £60 (as long as you don't have wine), enjoy some cracking Italian food and feel as if you are in a genuine Venetian establishment.
My personal tip is to go for a lunch there. You can book and it's quite the place for a little midday refreshment. The evening we had there was great though; the hype well justified and the venue's place in contemporary Soho folklore truly sealed.
Polpo
Monday, 12 September 2011
London Restaurant Festival comes around again
Hello everyone you, it's been a while, eh? Not to worry, reviews are being written as we speak (so to speak) and there is lots more to come in terms of food I have eaten both last and this year.
In the meantime, why not treat yourself to a spot of set-menu cheap eating in October? London Restaurant Festival is back and that means two weeks of discounted decent restaurant eating for all and sundry. There are some pretty fine places signing up for this year's adventure, so have a gander at the website and get stuck in. I fear this year may only see me attend one or two places, but money talks. Or yells vociferously in my case at the moment.
As well as restaurants, there are the usual multitude of events, lectures, debates and tours on offer. They cost a bit more, but (assuming they're better than the Big Roast from two years ago) they are a good day out too.
The restaurant offers have been divided into four separate sections this year: £10, £15, £20 and £25 for two courses. A lot of the old familiar faces are back (sadly not The Square, though Helene Darroze is), with a few new additions. Have a look below and treat yourself to a meal or two in mid-October. There's a lot to enjoy out there.
London Restaurant Festival
Booking a Table
In the meantime, why not treat yourself to a spot of set-menu cheap eating in October? London Restaurant Festival is back and that means two weeks of discounted decent restaurant eating for all and sundry. There are some pretty fine places signing up for this year's adventure, so have a gander at the website and get stuck in. I fear this year may only see me attend one or two places, but money talks. Or yells vociferously in my case at the moment.
As well as restaurants, there are the usual multitude of events, lectures, debates and tours on offer. They cost a bit more, but (assuming they're better than the Big Roast from two years ago) they are a good day out too.
The restaurant offers have been divided into four separate sections this year: £10, £15, £20 and £25 for two courses. A lot of the old familiar faces are back (sadly not The Square, though Helene Darroze is), with a few new additions. Have a look below and treat yourself to a meal or two in mid-October. There's a lot to enjoy out there.
London Restaurant Festival
Booking a Table
Monday, 5 September 2011
Timo & Bar Boulud - Kensington & Knightsbrige: Thursday November 10th, 2010
Spending too much is something I've done a lot of in the past few years. I'm guilty of it with shopping and also with food. One fine November afternoon last year, I indulged my splurging to a relatively unhealthy degree and surprised even myself at how darned greedy I was being.
The other half and I had an afternoon off work so we went for some lunch at Timo, one of the slightly better restaurants you will find on High Street Kensington. It sits rather incongruously at the end of a few middle-eastern grocery stores right before the grandiose Earl's Terrace, just over the way from the wonderful Holland Park and not far from the Olympia station, notable for the fact that you still sometimes see freight trains passing through there.
Timo is a restaurant with some clout. It's certainly one of the classier restaurants at which you may find a bunch of post-expo diners in Kensington and it has a decent reputation. They focus on the key ingredients of Italian food: simplicity, earthiness and homeliness. Any Italian restaurant which can pull these off whilst keeping the food tasty and the aura authentic is good enough by me. For years growing up, my favourite restaurant was Sorrento in Teddington. Sadly the great institution that once was no longer stands but its memory means a lot to me and always reminds me that a good Italian restaurant should represent these three things.
Fortunately, Timo is close enough to this that it merits its place in London's current scene. It's different enough from chain restaurants and stands just above the sort of internally franchised, over-priced tat that also dwells on Kensington High Street.
We put the restaurant through its paces with the rigour and determination which two regular restaurant-goers might be expected to. We started with a carpaccio of beef which came with rocket, fennel and sliced parmesan (left). It was very pleasant indeed. Spicy and subtle textures from the sides complimented the supple and rich beef rather well. However, it was trumped by the simple elegance exuding from our second starter, spaghettini with calamari, chilli, clams, peas and white wine (below right). Perfectly cooked strands of pasta with fresh ingredients in a light, buttery sauce. You really don't want more than this.
Seconds were slightly less impressive, with a palliard of chicken breast reminding me what paillard really means: pounded flat to the point of roadkill. It was served with roast potatoes seasoned with rosemary and some spinach. Not an interesting dish, even if the potatoes weren't too bad. Bland, dry and generally filler for filler's sake.
Our second main course was back on the pasta, which turned out to be pretty delicious too. However, the texture of the carbs didn't really work for me and I'll try to explain why. Pasta is almost sacred to me. It's the basis of the most of the dishes I can cook pretty well and I could eat the stuff all day. Pasta should be al dente or just about cooked. This means not crunchy but not rubbery or too soft. This stuff was a bit too stringy and stodgy for me, despite the silky yet punchy meat sauce. Especially when you consider that it was supposed to be tagliatele. Certainly not what you want when you're expecting thick and smooth ribbons of pasta.
We ate a tiramisu for dessert which was passably edible. It wasn't too heavy on the liqueur which is a common error with second rate tiramisu. All told, we shared and enjoyed it. Lunch out of the way, we took a bus into Knightsbridge. Whether you're walking through Kensington to Knightsbridge or taking a bus, this walk is one of those lovely, haughty routes that makes you glad to know London well. Resoundingly pompous and expensively louche, it's the kind of tourist walk that will never really belong to the tourists.
Reflecting on the near-filling lunch we'd eaten, we decided to have a browse in the array of ludicrously expensive shops on offer in Knightsbridge, before we exited Harvey Nichols to discover the Mandarin Oriental. That's not to say we hadn't seen it before, but we hadn't been in the area since we acquired the knowledge that Bar Boulud had opened there. As I reported some time ago, Bar Boulud was one of the highest new entries on to the top 100 list for the UK last year, so suddenly we became a little hungrier.
It was too early for dinner, so we decided to share an afternoon tea. Wouldn't you know it, the staff were actually really nice about it. I must say I was surprised at the idea that Knightsbridge hotel staff would approve of us splitting one afternoon tea between two, but surprises are always appreciated. A further surprise was that the afternoon tea at Bar Boulud only costs £21: not bad going at all.
For your £21, you get the classics: set of sandwiches, set of pastries, pot of tea, scones with cream 'n jam and as a small bonus, some chocolate Madeleines. That, my friends, is good value tea in Knightsbridge. And that's because it's pretty good tea. Not ground-breakingly good or mouthfuls of heaven inside bread brilliant, but pretty decent tea. It's got that level of ridiculous miniature class to it, which is what you're looking for when you have afternoon tea in a snazzy London hotel.
The sandwiches were a tough one. They didn't taste bad but they weren't much to write home about. Rather small, confusingly presented (some of them were cut into circular rolls) and limited in terms of ideas, they had that unfortunate problem that upmarket food sometimes experiences: trying to jazz up standards without getting the standards right. That said, they were fresh enough, all the crusts were cut off and the fillings were indeed traditional as you like: ham & mustard, cucumber & cream cheese, egg mayonnaise. No matter what the mis-judged presentation, if the ingredients compliment each other I'll still scoff down the plate. Or half the plate in this case.
The pastry section of the tea certainly looked more impressive, but in terms of taste there were a few issues. They had clearly put a great deal of thought into how to make the cake section of the tea steal the show and they'd done it well (left). There were three cakes (which I think is one too few for a decent afternoon tea.)
There was a lovely earl grey éclair; a tea-related twist on a classic. Mildly citrus-y, chewy yet gentle. There was some lemon and raspberry sponge which was delightfully layered and light, but lacking a touch of class. The whole thing didn't quite combine with the seamlessness that fine afternoon tea cakes deserve. Finally, a black forest cake (something I would never usually choose) was acceptable, in some of the layers being lovely and some being underwhelming. I will say it looked stunning though.
Fortunately, the afternoon was completed with some generosity and a main event worth waiting for. The scones at Bar Boulud, whilst a little on the slight side, were excellent (right). Crumbly, not too dry and accompanied with fine cream and jam (that's cream first, then jam, to confirm the correct way to do it), they were quite what we were after. And they gave us a second batch too, which I was delighted about. Following these, we had some Madeleines which were warm, soft and satisfying. And served in a napkin which was very cute.
It was a sprightly and warm autumn day. It was an indulgent autumn day. It was a glorious autumn day. I imagine I'll be back to Timo some time down the line and I have since been back to Bar Boulud which I will get around to reporting on when I find the time (or effort, or inclination...) In the meantime, there are a few things to think about from this:
1) The spirit of neighbourhood Italian cooking just about survives in High Street Kensington thanks to Timo
2) Bar Boulud is perfect for Knightsbridge: trendy, segregated dining rooms and unpretentious in the extreme, yet classy enough to fit in
3) Lunch followed by afternoon tea is plenty for one day
Timo
Bar Boulud
The other half and I had an afternoon off work so we went for some lunch at Timo, one of the slightly better restaurants you will find on High Street Kensington. It sits rather incongruously at the end of a few middle-eastern grocery stores right before the grandiose Earl's Terrace, just over the way from the wonderful Holland Park and not far from the Olympia station, notable for the fact that you still sometimes see freight trains passing through there.
Timo is a restaurant with some clout. It's certainly one of the classier restaurants at which you may find a bunch of post-expo diners in Kensington and it has a decent reputation. They focus on the key ingredients of Italian food: simplicity, earthiness and homeliness. Any Italian restaurant which can pull these off whilst keeping the food tasty and the aura authentic is good enough by me. For years growing up, my favourite restaurant was Sorrento in Teddington. Sadly the great institution that once was no longer stands but its memory means a lot to me and always reminds me that a good Italian restaurant should represent these three things.
Fortunately, Timo is close enough to this that it merits its place in London's current scene. It's different enough from chain restaurants and stands just above the sort of internally franchised, over-priced tat that also dwells on Kensington High Street.
We put the restaurant through its paces with the rigour and determination which two regular restaurant-goers might be expected to. We started with a carpaccio of beef which came with rocket, fennel and sliced parmesan (left). It was very pleasant indeed. Spicy and subtle textures from the sides complimented the supple and rich beef rather well. However, it was trumped by the simple elegance exuding from our second starter, spaghettini with calamari, chilli, clams, peas and white wine (below right). Perfectly cooked strands of pasta with fresh ingredients in a light, buttery sauce. You really don't want more than this.
Seconds were slightly less impressive, with a palliard of chicken breast reminding me what paillard really means: pounded flat to the point of roadkill. It was served with roast potatoes seasoned with rosemary and some spinach. Not an interesting dish, even if the potatoes weren't too bad. Bland, dry and generally filler for filler's sake.
Our second main course was back on the pasta, which turned out to be pretty delicious too. However, the texture of the carbs didn't really work for me and I'll try to explain why. Pasta is almost sacred to me. It's the basis of the most of the dishes I can cook pretty well and I could eat the stuff all day. Pasta should be al dente or just about cooked. This means not crunchy but not rubbery or too soft. This stuff was a bit too stringy and stodgy for me, despite the silky yet punchy meat sauce. Especially when you consider that it was supposed to be tagliatele. Certainly not what you want when you're expecting thick and smooth ribbons of pasta.
We ate a tiramisu for dessert which was passably edible. It wasn't too heavy on the liqueur which is a common error with second rate tiramisu. All told, we shared and enjoyed it. Lunch out of the way, we took a bus into Knightsbridge. Whether you're walking through Kensington to Knightsbridge or taking a bus, this walk is one of those lovely, haughty routes that makes you glad to know London well. Resoundingly pompous and expensively louche, it's the kind of tourist walk that will never really belong to the tourists.
Reflecting on the near-filling lunch we'd eaten, we decided to have a browse in the array of ludicrously expensive shops on offer in Knightsbridge, before we exited Harvey Nichols to discover the Mandarin Oriental. That's not to say we hadn't seen it before, but we hadn't been in the area since we acquired the knowledge that Bar Boulud had opened there. As I reported some time ago, Bar Boulud was one of the highest new entries on to the top 100 list for the UK last year, so suddenly we became a little hungrier.
It was too early for dinner, so we decided to share an afternoon tea. Wouldn't you know it, the staff were actually really nice about it. I must say I was surprised at the idea that Knightsbridge hotel staff would approve of us splitting one afternoon tea between two, but surprises are always appreciated. A further surprise was that the afternoon tea at Bar Boulud only costs £21: not bad going at all.
For your £21, you get the classics: set of sandwiches, set of pastries, pot of tea, scones with cream 'n jam and as a small bonus, some chocolate Madeleines. That, my friends, is good value tea in Knightsbridge. And that's because it's pretty good tea. Not ground-breakingly good or mouthfuls of heaven inside bread brilliant, but pretty decent tea. It's got that level of ridiculous miniature class to it, which is what you're looking for when you have afternoon tea in a snazzy London hotel.
The sandwiches were a tough one. They didn't taste bad but they weren't much to write home about. Rather small, confusingly presented (some of them were cut into circular rolls) and limited in terms of ideas, they had that unfortunate problem that upmarket food sometimes experiences: trying to jazz up standards without getting the standards right. That said, they were fresh enough, all the crusts were cut off and the fillings were indeed traditional as you like: ham & mustard, cucumber & cream cheese, egg mayonnaise. No matter what the mis-judged presentation, if the ingredients compliment each other I'll still scoff down the plate. Or half the plate in this case.
There was a lovely earl grey éclair; a tea-related twist on a classic. Mildly citrus-y, chewy yet gentle. There was some lemon and raspberry sponge which was delightfully layered and light, but lacking a touch of class. The whole thing didn't quite combine with the seamlessness that fine afternoon tea cakes deserve. Finally, a black forest cake (something I would never usually choose) was acceptable, in some of the layers being lovely and some being underwhelming. I will say it looked stunning though.
It was a sprightly and warm autumn day. It was an indulgent autumn day. It was a glorious autumn day. I imagine I'll be back to Timo some time down the line and I have since been back to Bar Boulud which I will get around to reporting on when I find the time (or effort, or inclination...) In the meantime, there are a few things to think about from this:
1) The spirit of neighbourhood Italian cooking just about survives in High Street Kensington thanks to Timo
2) Bar Boulud is perfect for Knightsbridge: trendy, segregated dining rooms and unpretentious in the extreme, yet classy enough to fit in
3) Lunch followed by afternoon tea is plenty for one day
Timo
Bar Boulud
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