Taste Of London 2011 - Sunday 19th June, 2011

Another year, another Taste of London. You may wonder what is so attractive about a half-day trek around Regents Park, but for me it's becoming a yearly tradition that is worth almost every penny. Just the two of us went this year, which meant a few dishes less than usual, but we did pretty well and were in and out of there in a matter of hours. A good day's work which needs no more introduction...

We found we were re-treading well-worn paths with parts of the day, and the beginning to the event was the same as last year. Deep fried baby squid from Barrafina was as rich, soft, crunchy and wonderful as in 2010 (left). A perfect rendition of classic fried squid. Despite eating it from a paper bowl in a park, it's hard to imagine squid better than this.

Next up was a visit to the Pétrus stand. I've not been to the restaurant itself but the legacy of the place where Ramsay's stewardship of Marcus Wareing produced one of the most exciting restaurants in the country stands firm. Or it might be standing firm if Ramsay and Wareing hadn't fallen out and the former took the name down the road and re-opened it as one of his own ventures. Either way, one Michelin star later, it is certainly worth trying. Especially when the main event was braised pork cheeks with creamed potatoes and clove sauce (right). Despite the poor reviews, antipathy towards Ramsay in general and miniature portions, these were lovely. Fall-apart soft and juicy, the cheeks were as tender as anything, with the potatoes and sauce accompanying perfectly.

Remembering our magical trip to Benares as part of London Restaurant Week in March, our next stop was at their stall. There was one dish that was inevitably going to be sampled: the chicken tikka pie with spiced berry compote (left). It may have looked a little messy and half-assembled, but the taste was extraordinary. A mixture of sweetness from the compote, spice from the tikka and smoothness from the potato topping, this was an immaculately conceived dish, one we were delighted to try.

Next up was a stop at the Corrigan's Mayfair stall. Remembering our thoroughly enjoyable visit there some time ago, the other half and I were keen to see what was on offer. It turns out they must have been expecting us, because the small steak burger with bone marrow was something that sounded tailor-made for us (right). Unfortunately, the meat was too lost in the thick, over-dry bun and I couldn't pick out any bone marrow at all. A disappointing outcome for sure.

Next up was a visit to one of our favourites, Launceston Place. Tristan Welch was overseeing things on the front, which is always nice to see, so we immediately went for the truffled suckling pig roll (left). It was a delight of typical Launceston Place proportions. Soft, delicate spit roast pig combined with freshly grated black truffle to make one hell of a rich, earthy and somehow perfectly suited English starter. What could be more local than a hog roast sandwich during a park fair?

Yauatcha was up next. Varying our so-far Euro-centric style, we opted to infuse a little Asian cuisine into the mix with their dim sum platter. I remembered that Yauatcha dim sum is nothing to be sniffed at, so we were more than happy for a sampling of venison puff, crispy duck roll and sweet potato mei-si roll (right). The highlight was predictably the venison puff but all three were lovely. A nice break from the heavier fare we'd been eating.

Our next course was a main from Rhodes 24, somewhere I've not yet been but who's menu was supremely tempting. So much so that we went there twice. Our first stop was to try their main course of slow cooked lamb with onion gravy and buttered potato (left). It was beautifully cooked lamb, soft and tender, with a fine sweet gravy on top. My only small complaint was that the potato was too al dente for me. With a dish like this, potato should be mashed or roasted, not sliced and undercooked.

Gauthier Soho was our next port of call. We ate a truly memorable meal there last year, so we were always going to go back. Especially when we saw Alexis Gauthier himself fronting the operation, handing out plates and chatting with customers. We opted for the starter dish of truffled risotto with a chicken gravy and parmesan crisps (right). Despite scooping out spoonfuls of the stuff and shovelling it down hurriedly, it was utterly glorious. Truly as good as the dish we'd tried in the restaurant previously, which is no mean feat. This was the kind of food you'd tolerate pouring rain for, never mind the inconvenience of having to simply stand up and eat it.

Remembering both an enjoyable meal in days gone by as well as previous good experiences at the festival itself, we headed for Quo Vadis. Their 'icon dish' was a rib of beef with triple-cooked chips and Béarnaise sauce (left). As something I'd eaten and loved in their restaurant, this was a shoe-in. Sadly, the meat was far too fatty, which took away a lot of the enjoyment in the dish, detracting from the flavour of the beef and the potentially great combination on show.

We decided after all we'd eaten that desserts were the next stage of the day and these would see us through to the close. Our first pudding of the piece was a custard tart with date purée from The Ritz Restaurant (right). It was utterly Ritzy in both delivery and taste: elegant, opulent and rather fine. A very smooth and refined take on a classic English pudding. Great stuff on a summer's afternoon.

The next dessert stop was at Clapham's Four O Nine to sample a triple chocolate brownie with vanilla mascarpone and raspberries (left). It was a delicious and rich dessert, combining all elements on the plate rather nicely. The brownie was just the right side of being dry and the cream was a necessary but well-judged compliment. I'd not heard a lot about this place before the festival, but if this brownie's anything to go by, it's worth keeping an eye on.

Our final dessert - and dish - of the day was another Rhodes 24 effort. Lemon tart with fresh strawberries was a bit of a no-brainer for us (plus it meant we could use up all our remaining crowns perfectly), which turned out to be a worthwhile finisher (right). A soft and sweet-sour lemon tart is always great when it's on song, and this was most certainly a delicious way to finish things. Soft pastry, sharp sauce, mellow filling: well done Rhodes 24.

Two people, twelve dishes, two hours. That was that. Taste Of London 2011 may have been my briefest sojourn into the array of restaurants London has to offer but it was absolutely a lovely afternoon. A few corking dishes and generally decent weather will always suggest a good day's work in the park, and 2011 lived up to expectations. As usual, here is my menu of the day, made up of the dishes we sampled:

Starter: Truffle risotto from Gauthier Soho. A no-brainer in the event. They'd taken the dish that was so amazing in the restaurant and seemingly improved upon it. Quite a feat considering the circumstances.

Main Course: No stand-out winner here, but for sheer invention, taste combination and originality, the tikka pie from Benares edges out the pork roll from Launceston Place here.

Dessert: Perhaps surprisingly, the mild and decadent flavour of the custard tart from The Ritz Restaurant takes the prize here. Somehow managing to be both understated and grand, it's the kind of pudding that should be tried by all and sundry.

An Enjoyable Freebie - Incognico: Covent Garden, Tuesday May 31st, 2011

My involvement with Toptable, a wonderful service which has done as much as anywhere to expose me to good restaurants, began with a meal at Incognico, situated just off the Charing Cross Road. A perfect venue for a decent restaurant, with the pre- post-theatre goers sure to stop in, plus all the after-work traffic. It was a lovely evening, but one that I was a little daunted by. It was, after all, one of my earliest experiences of above average eating out.

Times have changed since then, clearly. Incognico is still there but it seems to be flagging. Like Quaglino's, it would appear that the place's best days are gone and one sadly wonders how much longer it will be there for. Toptable might introduce a myriad of new customers to restaurants, but when your place is one of those which offers a free meal for points, all is not going as well as could be.

Even though signing up to the Toptable freebie scheme might be seen as a sign of decline, it's still a damn good way to be rewarded for eating out and as such, I never like to see any reward points go to waste. Two courses for nothing is nothing to sniff at, so we did our best to sample all that we could from the set menu.

We started with grilled mackerel and potato salad. An appetising, simple and classic combination and one that lived up to its billing (left). It was well-coked mackerel - they avoided the pitfall of drying out the fish when grilling - and it was served atop a moist and comforting potato salad cake. A very good start.

Main courses were another triumph. Some asparagus and parmesan risotto was well-flavoured and balanced, creamy and rich in equal measure (right). Despite some risotto disasters over the last couple of years, this one helped restore my faith in rice. We also had some suckling pig porchetta, which loosely translates as a rolled, roasted and sliced fillet of pig in layers including fat, meat and stuffing (left). It was thoroughly enjoyable, the meat contrasting with the crisp fat and spongy stuffing to make a decent dish.

Pudding was a simple lemon tart with raspberry coulis, which once again was on the money (right). Nothing fancy here, just another classic flavour combination carried off to a satisfactory standard. And that was a pretty good summary of the entire meal. Classic combinations done well with a minimum of fuss. As with a half-price meal, one good measure of a freebie is whether or not you'd have paid money for it. I would happily have paid a reasonable amount for this.

I don't think Incognico is at the level it could - or even should - be, and it seems as if business is on the slide. There is not enough in the way of prestige or promotion surrounding the place, which might be down to the fact that it is straddling an awkward line between openly accessible chain restaurant cuisine and the fine dining end of the high street. If customers aren't comfortable with a concept, they won't come in.

I would recommend Incognico to most people, since there is enough choice and variation in the place to make it accessible whilst not being pretentious or grossly overpriced. They have a load of pre-theatre deals in place for the clientèle they are likely to attract given the nearby area and the location remains perfect. Hopefully they can hoist themselves back on the map in a big way in the coming months.

Incognico

A Date With a Burger - Bar Boulud: Knightsbridge, May 1st, 2011

As I mentioned in yet another late piece some time ago, Bar Boulud would feature with its second review on this blog, amalgamating two visits, with one central theme: burgers. We had two burgers with afternoon tea during Christmas 2010 - a ridiculous and exceptional evening's work - and I knew there and then that we'd be back to eat them again before long.

The occasion that brought us back was my brother and his wife's birthdays. We picked a date between the two (in May as it happened) and treated them. The reasoning for Bar Boulud was simple: somewhere they may not usually visit (these two are as comfortably suburban as young couples get) and the fact that my brother had disclosed to me not long before this that a burger and chips was his favourite meal.

Now burgers and chips are fabulous, but only in the right circumstances. The best burger I've ever had is probably at a place in Greenwich Village, New York. It was a $5 burger served on a paper plate in an old New York tavern. I couldn't tell you exactly why it was the best burger ever, it just was. With most meals I could write about individual flashes of brilliance, perfections via combination and unforgettable tastes that made me love it, but not this. The circumstances and the holiday made it so.

I've expounded on the merits of excellent burgers before but finding perfect burgers is a little like finding outstanding pizza: near impossible. No matter how rare and juicy I want my meat, how perfect I want the sauces and how much lettuce should be in the mix, there are times a quarter-pounder from McDonald's is just the ticket. You can find awesome food in unexpected places, usually depending on the time of day and how hungry you are. It has been rightly said that hungry people make for great food, so perhaps there is no recipe for perfection.

As with a McDonald's, another place you might not expect to find a great burger is in Knightsbridge. Bar Boulud was a strange place to find such excellent burgers - there's no point in any suspense because I've already mentioned they're lovely - but Daniel Boulud has pedigree. One thing that seems to have survived the French chef's journey from New York to London is the burger.

There are other things on the menu at Bar Boulud - too many things if you ask me - but few of them have the same pull or simple elegance of the burgers. To summarise briefly (because I only really want to talk about the burgers), we ate a few terrines to start which were not really on the ball - too cold, too hard and too bland - and the other half had some oysters (left). Despite my relative ignorance of great oysters, I could tell these were good and she was equally impressed.

My sister-in-law picked an egg with asparagus (right). It was beautifully presented; crispy on the outside, served on top of the vegetables with some duck breast. It was, to be frank, an unique dish of pure French beauty amongst other choices which are hiding simple tradition amongst an array of confusing descriptions and over-emphasised flavour combinations. This wasn't perfect, but enough to write home about. Just.

On, then, to the main event and the reason we were at the restaurant. We each ordered a burger: two piggie burgers, one yankee burger and one frenchie burger. These are the three options and they are all wonderful. To do the things justice, I will write the descriptions exactly as they appeared on the menu that night:

Yankee Burger (£11.25): Grilled beef patty with iceberg lettuce, tomato, sweet onion, sesame bun, pickle. Add cheddar cheese supp + £1.00

Frenchie Burger (£12.25): Grilled beef patty with confit pork belly, rocket, tomato-onion compote, morbier cheese, peppered brioche bun

Piggie Burger (£12.25): Grilled beef patty with BBQ pulled pork, bibb lettuce, green chili mayonnaise, cheddar bun, red cabbage slaw

Take a moment to read all that in. If you're a vegetarian, a non-beef eater or insane, then this may not be for you. But have a good look through all the components and ingredients in each of the burger choices. Let me tell you: having tried at least some of each of these burgers, they are unimpeachable in their quality.

Burgers might be simple, working-man's food, but this is taking something that can be pure and unadulterated and turning it into a right old roll in the hay with its blue-blooded, twice-removed cousins that are way richer. Each burger is special in its own right, each unique enough to stand out.

The yankee burger is all about the basics done brilliantly (left). It's soft, sinuous meat that mixes well with the cheese and tomato to give the crispest, cleanest taste of all the burgers. It's unpretentious and totally not what you expect from a Knightsbridge hotel. The sweet onion gives it a perfect kick to finish on.

The frenchie burger is about showing off. The confit pork belly is an outrageous touch of high-end pomposity that I defy any meat-, burger- or food-lover to dislike. Serious calories (as it should be) mean serious flavour. The rocket lends a peppery sourness to the dish which is balanced by the sweeter tomato-onion compote. The crowning touch for me is the brioche bun: a fluffy counteraction to the greasy filling.

Finally, my favourite (as well as my brother's and my choice for the evening): the piggie burger (right). The addition of barbecued pulled pork to anything makes it better, but when it also has the slight added heat of the green chili (I don't know why they don't say "chilli") mayonnaise, it's truly a splendid thing. The smartest part of the burger is the fact they don't add cheese and they do add the perfect, sour yet tangy red cabbage slaw. Both of these set the thing off; a soft, slightly fiery mouthful of perfection. The bun being flavoured with cheddar is a clever touch too.

A word on the sides: the chips, French peas & beans and truffled mashed potato were all super accompaniments to the patties we picked. Particularly the mashed potato. Creamy, gloopy and with all the sharp delights of truffle, it was a great side that I might not normally put with a burger.

Desserts were a non-event. The other half wanted chocolate but no mint in her dessert and got both. Mint goes about as well with chocolate as toothpaste, which is what eating mint chocolate is like. I had a cake with pears and cinnamon ice cream. It was an okay sponge which unfortunately didn't allow the pears and ice cream to flourish. The rest - a praline soufflé and some pineapple with fruity accompaniments - were not much to write home about and not really worth what they were charging.

So, if there is one thing you take away from this review - and I don't really feel I need to spell it out - it should be that burgers at Bar Boulud are the way to go. Afternoon tea isn't half bad either, and their seafood is worth a little further investigation, but the main event is the beef in a bun. Go for lunch, have a glass of something, order a piggie and the mash. It's an experience that won't cost you an arm and a leg, and one that you'll be sure to remember.

Bar Boulud

Franco Manca: Chiswick, Wednesday 11th May, 2011

Pursuing amazing pizza is not an easy thing. When I ate what is apparently the best pizza in London, I was somewhat let down when I realised pizza is very hard to extensively glorify. Not to say it was bad, just not as wonderful as I had hoped.

When people talk about great pizza, Franco Manca is a name that comes up time and again from those in the know in London. Well, it's a name but not as I imagined. I always thought that this Franco chap must be a pizza wizard, probably a chef who started it all and is now cashing in on his success as part of a wealthy retirement. Franco is indeed a part of the story, but Franco Manca isn't. "Franco Manca" means "Franco's missing" in Italian. The name is an homage to the man who owned the small restaurant where the chain's Brixton flagship shop now stands.

They started out with a small shop in Brixton and have since gained the recognition of more than just those in the locality. I'd heard about the place before one had opened in Chiswick and they have now opened a new venue in the Stratford branch of Westfield. According to reports, Brick Lane and Covent Garden ventures are due in the near future.

The other half and I met up for an early dinner with me fairly ravenous after a day's work and her nothing of the sort after lunch at Hibiscus. I admired Franco's instantly for their willingness to revel in simplicity. Similar to the success Byron have enjoyed since bursting on to the scene a couple of years ago, they have clearly identified that pared-down menus are supreme when it comes to good cheap eating. There are six pizzas on offer and we tried two of them.

They were unreservedly excellent. Thick, soft and appetising sourdough base is what Franco Manca pride themselves on and they are right to do it. These are pizza pies that demand to be torn into and scoffed down as quickly as possible. In short, perfect pizza. This is, lest we forget, rustic and traditional peasant food. Pizza will never be properly posh (pasta is another kettle of carbs), so it's time we started looking for affordable greatness covered in cheese and tomato.

If the bases were near-perfect, the toppings also weren't far off. We had a ham and mushroom pizza which was terrifically thick and juicy. Gloucester Old Spot ham and wild mushrooms is a combination which was made to be put on puffy dough. Really intense, filling stuff that held your attention for more than a couple of bites.

Secondly, we went for the pizza with cheese, tomato and chorizo. They made the point of stating that the pizza had both dry and semi-dry sausage on top, which I liked. It was truly excellent. A nice twist on the more typically Italian sausage on pizzas, it was salty, sweet, thick and utterly moreish. You wouldn't want to eat two but the taste was so good you'd probably want to try.

So maybe Franco Manca is the best pizza in London? A little further down the District Line, Santa Maria in Ealing remains a great place, but I think Franco's is better simply because I expected less. Either way, go there for a pizza whenever you feel like it or are in the area. It's high quality, low complexity, affordable food. London hopes Franco remains missing.

Franco Manca

At the celebrity hangout - Nobu: Mayfair, 23rd April, 2011

I don't understand the ever-present mainstream cultural obsession with celebrities. It is sadly representative of a society low on self-esteem and ideas on how to fill time. Reality television and gossip magazines are the mediums that I blame. Wasting time, money and mindpower, these really are things that need to stop if we're ever to advance beyond the X-Factor-watching, trend-consuming, music-abusing herd we are becoming.

Of course, I'm not much better. My constant opposition of the status quo when it comes to recent trends can be thrown right back in my face. I'm miles from kicking against the system, always thinking I'm on the moral high ground but actually part of the problem. Mind you, I suppose that's what being a critic is all about.

Back to celebrities then; I think they deserve a bit more of my ire for now. It is a racing certainty that I don't care where the Beckhams live, eat or worship. I don't give a hoot what sort of micro-dress one of them has been seen in and I certainly couldn't care how many absurdly-named children they're going to have. As an aside, the fact that their oldest is called Brooklyn, the city of his conception, gave me a good giggle many years ago. My favourite three places he should've been conceived, you ask..? Peckham, Beckenham and Chipping Sodbury.

What am I getting at? Firstly, the point that no matter how immune to the artificially-flavoured celebrity hype machine we think we are, they're always permeating our consciousness. It's a sad state of affairs and one that I blame anyone other than me for. Secondly, the Beckhams remain all over the papers, television and the internet and I'm unsure exactly why. But it is worth noting that they do eat. And when they are in London, they have been known to eat at Nobu.

Nobu has long been a popular celebrity eatery in London. It has served kicky, trendy Japanese food for almost fifteen years, acquiring a Michelin Star along the way, which it has steadily kept through thick and thin. Usually if some famous sort or other is in town, they'll be seen pulling up in a taxi, limousine or chauffer-driven monstrosity outside the Metropolitan Hotel.

Nobu, the eponymous chain belonging to legendary chef Nobu Matsuhisa, has locations on just about every continent. The first restaurant was founded in California in 1987, with an avalanche of others following London's place 10 years later. The empire's growth shows no sign of slowing, with venues opening in such unpredictable locations as Budapest, Mykonos, Mexico City and Cape Town.

A friend was hosting a birthday dinner at Nobu and the other half and I couldn't say no when we were invited. Celebrity-spotting be damned, we were just after what is supposedly the some of the finest top-end Japanese in Europe. There were nine of us, we were all expecting to be impressed and none of us cared about seeing anyone famous. With that in mind, Nobu had a task on its hands.

First off, Nobu is pretty dark. Not in the cool, David Lynch sense of the word - just poorly lit. I'm all for a touch of gloom giving some mystique to a restaurant, but this place is more grimly shrouded than mysteriously wrapped. We were led to our table after a couple of minutes' loitering by the bar and started to discuss the technicalities of ordering. Unfortunately, half the table wanted the tasting menu and half didn't. Happily (and a touch surprisingly) they said this was fine, provided we didn't mind some courses coming at different times.

The first thing to impress me at Nobu was the endemame; fresh green peas still in the pod with a little salt. Their warm, cloudy greenery was a lovely start to the evening. Something about sitting in this over-stuffed, over-sexed, under-lit gossip column whilst eating some of the simplest, most down-to-earth Japanese food was satisfyingly contradictory. With a promising pre-starter out of the way, we looked towards the menu and started assembling our orders.

The other half and I get around to our fair share of eating out. We know good food and she in particular knows good Japanese food. Rather than hopping on the tasting menu train, we opted to put together our own sample menu to run the place through its paces. It was a gruelling and expensive task but I think we got a decent spread of the place without overstretching.

I had a rather inconvenient moment before the food came. With good Asian food, a little tea is a must, so we ordered a pot of jasmine to start us off. Now good jasmine tea should be light, rural, rustic and never too strong. I was presented with a very sweet little teapot of foul, bitter slop which the staff insisted was quite authentic and exactly as it should be. Either I've been drinking imitation stuff for years or Nobu don't know simple tea.

There is a lot Nobu don't know, as it turns out. They don't know if you throw a decent steak on a sizzling hot stone then pelt the thing with ponzu lemon sauce, it will ruin a nice piece of meat. They don't know that when you mix foie gras with wagyu beef - allegedly the best you can get in Japan - in gyoza (small, dry but delicious dumpling casings), it's imperative that neither ingredient is lost in the mix. Never mind both.

If you can catch a whiff of the sort of derision I might usually reserve for distasteful celebrity gossip, I warn you I'm just getting started. As well as the dishes above, we ate sashimi and two kinds of tempura. Along with dessert. Now the raw stuff was not bad. We tried o-toro tuna, crab and jumbo shrimp (left). The shrimp in particular was very good. But here comes my real issue with Nobu: price. Those three pieces of sashimi cost almost £20. And they were not that good. Not £20 good. Maybe this is why celebrities come here?

King crab tempura with onions was also enjoyable in that I will happily eat just about anything that's been deep-fried in Japanese batter. To be fair to them, the crab was properly juicy and well-preserved in the tempura. We also sampled a variety of standard tempura (scallop, squid and pumpkin) which were all also very nice (right). But again, too expensive. This is the sort of stuff you can get for a tenner as a meal set in Asakusa or any Japanese place worth its salt. And don't even start with the "you're paying for the experience" rubbish: this isn't food which needs a fanfare, it's all in the taste. £24 for the tempura set here seems reasonable when you look at the rest of the menu, but it's not.

That's more or less the problem with Nobu for me. The food was not terribly bad (apart from the two beef aberrations) but the place is cruelly unwelcoming when it comes to what you're paying. It's not like some of the other expensive meals I've had in my time, where it really is worth saving a few bob during each month leading up to the event, it's just too much for too little.

Desserts were a damning indictment on the place. We shouldn't really have ordered them since we'd already spent rather a lot, but we hoped against hope that they could salvage the evening. We should've known better. We ordered what was billed as a 'chocolate bento box': chocolate fondant cake with green tea ice cream. It turned out to be only that, which definitely wasn't worth the £10.50 they were charging. I've had better, more interesting takes on fondant than this for much less. And I didn't care that the fondant was flourless. Similarly, the 'banana split 3000' (no, I'm not making this up) sounded lovely, but was a misjudged mixture of soupy, over-rich chocolate foam, too-sweet poached banana and saffron crumble you couldn't taste, served with ice cream.

Well over £100 later, the other half and I were fairly astounded. We'd spent a lot of money on an experience that was neither fulfilling nor especially enjoyable. The birthday boy had enjoyed himself which was of course the main reason for the evening. Unfortunately, the main reasons I eat out are to enjoy myself and to sample amazing food. Nobu was so far from these that I can't envisage myself ever going back.

Nobu

The Glasshouse: Kew, Friday 22nd April, 2011

The pursuit of Michelin Stars is an arduous one. You can go about it in different ways. There's the Petrus route of identifying the reviewers and then upping your game on the nights it really counts (I don't know how else they got their star immediately in the 2011 guide), the relentless effort and 18-hour days in the kitchen that broke Marco Pierre White during the 90s, the slow and steady accumulation of unavoidable excellence until everyone comes around to your quality (St. John) and there's the careful slipping into the mainstream, going all guns blazing on fashionable food and service.

After you get a star, where do you stop? Is one enough? Is the zenith of all restaurants three stars? Should any decent restaurant be satisfied until they have reached this peak? The answer to all of these questions, in my mind, is "who cares?". Stars often mean hiked-up prices and a stuffiness which detracts from some restaurants' charm and originality. There's sometimes a lot to be said for not having a Michelin Star or two.

However, it's rare that a restaurant has a Michelin Star without merit. There have been a few occasions where I've wondered, but usually the accolade is well-deserved. The higher level of service, ambience and food that are implied with a star usually shine through. Plus you get that smug feeling of having eaten at somewhere that has a Michelin Star.

The Glasshouse in Kew is part of a small but prestigious triumvirate of restaurants, including La Trompette and - most famously - Chez Bruce. Nigel Platts-Martin is the partner behind Bruce Poole's ownership of the venues and (given that he also has stakes in The Ledbury and The Square with Philip Howard) this guy is one to get on board when it comes to opening exclusive restaurant groups. It's a place I was happy to be going to.

We started the Easter weekend with a walk around Kew Gardens in some blistering April sun. Despite having lived in London nearly all my life, it was my first visit and I was suitably impressed by the verdent fields and extrovert plantations to consider a return sometime. However, the main event of the day was dinner. We went in to The Glasshouse having changed as much as possible from our daywear to look respectable and took in the restaurant.

It's a slick, chic, modern affair with all the polished wood and glass of a one-starred place. Fairly warm and welcoming, yet without the character and whimsy of some of its contemporaries, it doesn't wow as much as wave hello in a nonchalant way. Our food was a mixture of late spring in-season and traditional fare that appeals instantly. The former and latter were perfectly represented in our starters. A salad of cold smoked eel with beetroot and horseradish was about as suitable a choice as any on a hot spring day. Fortunately the dish was well balanced and worth the selection (left). Salty and silky eel with the mild bite of the beetroot was indeed the way it should be. A lovely start which set the evening up promisingly.

The second starter was something I was dying to try as soon as I saw it on the card. Jersey royal potato soup with thyme chantilly and croutons was, happily, as thick, delicious and comforting as it sounded (right). Steaming hot, which is exactly how a rustic potato soup should be served, it was taken to another level with the thick thyme cream and the crunchy croutons. I could've eaten two bowls of it.

The other half chose an interesting one for her main course: steak tartare. Now I'm as partial to some raw beef as anyone, but as a main course it always strikes me as a little excessive. The menu surprised me too, labelling it as 'raw, spicy beef'. I know modern and quirky are so fashionable now but it seemed a little odd to me. The other part of the dish I was interested in were the pomme sarladaise it was served with. These turned out to be potatoes pounded flat and served in a sheet (left). Strange for sure (and not, apparently, how these potatoes are always served) but it did work. The rocket salad with notes of truffle running through it and the quail egg on top of the beef eventually made for a rather impressive, if slightly muddled, dish.

My main course was a lot more rustic and earthy: pork, veg and potatoes. Slightly more detailed version: slow-cooked pork cheeks with creamed potatoes and young vegetables. There was also apparently 'sauce charcutiere' with it, which I more or less enjoyed as 'gravy'. The stew itself was delicious, with the cheeks moderately chewy and intensely meaty (right). The vegetables had mixed success, with delicious peas and carrots offset slightly by miniature raw radishes and turnips which were too sharp.

Our desserts went back to classics: a crème brûlée and a lemon tart. Each of us chose the one dearest to our heart: the other half straight on the burnt cream. This particular effort was served on top of apricot compote which lent a pleasantly Enlish twist to a usually simple French classic. Enjoyable if unspectacular.

My lemon tart was also very pleasant, served with custard ice cream. This sort of combination should work fantastically as long as the components are correct. The tart was accomplished and zesty without being exceptional. Lemon tart can often be a little insubstantial and thin, but this was thicker and more comforting (left). Unfortunately, the ice cream was just too weak on the custard to taste. It could've been brilliant, but ice cream is simply too cold to make with mild custard.

As an evening, it was not a failure but neither was it what one might anticipate from a Michelin-starred restaurant. At times wonderful, at others sub-par, it wasn't quite as consistent as I expected for sure. That said, I would go back to the Glasshouse. It's small, charming and affordable. £40 for three courses here is amongst the best value I've seen in London. It's worth a visit if you're at Kew Gardens or in the south west, no doubt.

The Glasshouse

Friday Fun for Five - Patterson's: Mayfair, Friday April 1st, 2011

Having splurged a little too much during London Restaurant Week, I felt it was time to cut back on some of the more fanciful spending early 2011 had yielded. Unfortunately, as ever, temptation called and we found ourselves back at a table by the following Friday.

"50% off food from the a la carte" has to be one of the best sentences in the English language. It's such a pure, generous and meaningful offer from a restaurant. There's nothing more frustrating than getting a set menu when there are other dishes on the a la carte you'd prefer to eat. So, on this April Fools' Day, Mike, the other half, two other friends and I indulged ourselves silly at Patterson's thanks to their generosity and Toptable's efficiency.

Five around a table on a warm Friday evening is essentially perfect. Conversation flows, jokes are shared and life looks grand. Especially when you're getting half off your bill at the end of the evening. The group was amiable and diverse, the evening set up perfectly. The spirit of the group was indeed positive and we were hoping to be impressed.

I had been to Patterson's before, a visit which was also a half-off deal and one which left me fairly well satisfied. In the two years since, Patterson's hasn't changed too much. They're still unashamedly British, unpretentious and focused on delivering punchy combinations on their plates. Our pre-starter was some fairly enjoyable green soup with croutons and cream, served in teacups. Not exactly necessary but wholly pleasant.

As a fairly big group, we tried our fair share of dishes and as a friendly enough group, we threw morsels around the table to each other. Rather than a structured, blow-by-blow review, I'm opting for a more practical approach here. There were some pretty disappointing dishes on show, not least my main course of lamb en croute, where the meat was cooked well but under-seasoned and the sides were a bean-mushed mulch. And the supplement of £5 didn't do much for the mood either.

A sauté of Scottish langoustine with mushroom accompaniments and parmesan gnocchi looked like a stunning main course that, like the lamb, failed to fly. It was a little underwhelming which didn't allow the fairly prominent and exciting ingredients to shine. To start, a Cornish crab lasagne with langoustine bisque was almost there but not quite. This sort of dish should be amazing, vibrant and rich, but it was gruffly salty and not much else. The other unfortunate shortfall was in my starter of pigeon cutlet, savoy cabbage and truffle jus. The meat was cooked well but the accompaniments were not. The foie gras was mild and the truffles were just missing. It didn't do the description or the £3 supplement justice.

On to better things, the rest was fairly lovely. Mike's first two courses of an inventive yet rustic haddock soufflé followed by pork belly with sauerkraut rosti were excellent. The first was a messy-looking thing but had a flavour that kept giving whilst remaining light and proper (left). The second was what Patterson's is truly famous for: brash British meat with comforting and enjoyable sides (below right).

The day was stolen by the other half's main course. It was the sort of dish that you enjoyed reading about but were suitably sceptical it could deliver on the plate. Sea bass with squid ink rice, calamari and whitebait is something I was certain would fall short of its description but it turned out to be a thing of beauty (above left). Served as a well-formed stack with the whitebait topping the fish, all elements of the dish were glorious. A truly memorable dish.

Elsewhere, a starter of braised veal cheek and sweetbread was strong, varied and complemented sensationally by some shallot purée. Steak and chips was predictably of a high standard. It's the sort of dish that Patterson's should be doing well and indeed they are. Puddings were mainly decent - a chocolate fondant and a blueberry cheesecake were both standard - with two touching great.

The poached pear with almond crumble and pear sorbet was elegant, sweet and combined a beautiful variety of textures and temperatures (right). Secondly (and more surprisingly), an apple, pumpkin and pecan strudel was a million miles from the sort of flabby, flat and bland strudels one has nightmares about (above left). This was superbly sweet, with the variety of flavours working in harmony to produce a delectable dessert. Soft, warm doughnuts on top of the sweet apple with vanilla ice cream on the side was a divine contrast.

One good acid test of a meal where you've had 50% off the bill is whether or not you'd feel miffed paying full price for it. At £47 for three courses, the general consensus was - if you chose correctly - that this was a meal worth paying for. Patterson's didn't get everything right but they definitely didn't fail on many fronts. We had a lovely evening and an affordable meal. For a group of five friends on a Friday, you can't ask for much more.

Patterson's