One Last Hurrah - Launceston Place: Kensington, Sunday 3rd February, 2013

And so it comes to pass: my last review of Launceston Place. As with another long-standing favourite of mine, Le Vacherin, this is somewhere the wife and I have enjoyed in every way since I first went there some years ago. To say that visit was a success would be stretching the truth somewhat, since excellent food was nearly ruined by lousy service, but here we are. We seem to eat here several times a year - any further reviews after this one would simply be overdoing it, particularly since the standard very rarely wavers.

This was a special visit, though. My father had been given retirement at the beginning of the year which was great news. He'd been wanting to retire for some time, a stalwart of the education system going as far back as teacher training college before moving into educational development and business management. As such, celebrating was in order. We'd got together as a family on the Friday night but the Sunday was the main event as far as we were concerned. The wife and I treated everyone to lunch in the chef's office at our favourite local place.

The chef's office is a room which comfortably sits 8-10 people adjoining the main kitchen. The booking process was uncomplicated, non-restrictive and generally an organisational joy which made the memories of miscommunication and bad service from years prior a distant one. The service and general attitude of staff at this place is up there with the best.

And your attitude needs to be at its best when you have a just-turned-two boy eating in the chef's office. Our nephew (who was in attendance with his mother) was the star of the show, as adorable toddlers tend to be. But with seven adults and one small boy, one's work is cut out. Our waitress and the support staff were excellent all day. The menu was impeccable as ever, delivering my nephew an expertly-judged roast chicken plate for his main course and some chocolate sorbet for dessert which his whispered "wow" summed up perfectly.

The food, as ever, was near-faultless. It was predictably similar to the menu we'd sampled about six weeks earlier but it didn't diminish the event in any way. I stayed with the winter vegetable salad which had impressed me so in the previous visit, with others around the table suitably wowed (above left). The wife's roast scallops with pork belly were a similar triumph of perfect contrast and complement (above right.)

Given that it was Sunday, the wife and most of the rest of the gang couldn't resist the beef and Yorkshire pudding (left). As solid, classic and refined as ever, this is the sort of Sunday lunch rivalled only in other Michelin-Starred restaurants. The meat is always cooked to a perfect medium-rare turn, the potatoes a crisp, chunky and fluffy thumbs-up, the Yorkshires light and rich.

My father and I agreed fish was the way to go on the day, a choice we were delighted with. And how could we not be? Roasted hake with cauliflower, chicken oysters, pink fir apple potatoes and truffle was as heavenly as it sounds (right). The cauliflower had been charred and pureéd, adding creaminess, saltiness and earthy flavour to the dish. The truffle was subtle and glorious. The sauce and the chicken oysters were judged to a perfectly-balanced note, reminding me of the sheer excellence I had enjoyed at Medlar four months earlier. I was particularly excited to introduce my old man to pink firs. Since he is a huge fan of new potatoes, I'd been banging on about these to him for as long as I could remember and they acted as the perfect base for a perfect dish.

Desserts were academic at this point: we all knew they would be great and they were. Launceston Place's knack for taking simple dairy products and turning them into impressive puddings was again realised with some eye-watering flourishes. The English custard tart was a picture on a plate; rich vanilla custard set with apple slivers, fruit crumble and orange ice cream (left). Imagination grounded in realism leaving a stupendous result.

The chocolate mousse was precisely as excellent as it had been before and was enjoyed as it should be. I went for baked vanilla yoghurt with caramelised rhubarb at the bottom of the bowl, topped with yoghurt ice cream (right). Superb dessert done in a proper way. It was simultaneously sour and sweet, comforting and exciting. The meal was done. We were all satisfied.

Before you ask, I am not on some kind of commission here. I am not a sponsor of Launceston Place. I have no corporate ties with the restaurant and I write everything above, and in the past, based on my own opinion and experience. This may read like some doe-eyed eulogy and if it does; good. It is the last piece I'll write on the restaurant and it deserves all the praise I've given it because, above all else, this is a great restaurant. Happy retirement old boy. Happy sorbet young fella. Happy trails Launceston Place.

Launceston Place

The Jam Cupboard: Kensington, Monday 28th January, 2013

South Kensington is a strange area when it comes to eating out. On the main roads, your choices are limited to anonymous hotel ventures and gaudy, tourist-y places. On the side streets, the prices rocket, leaving one with little choice other than to wait for a special occasion.

This was no special occasion (and no side street restaurant) but some colleagues were in town so the wife and I joined two of them for a spot of dinner one dreary Monday evening. We were examining possibilities in the South Kensington area (where they were staying) and happened to notice a place called The Jam Cupboard on Toptable, which was running a 50% off deal. When I first started eating out frequently, 50% off food via Toptable was just about the only way I'd book a restaurant. Times have changed, often thanks to decent restaurants not being able to afford this luxury any more, but also with Toptable having been bought by the US site Opentable, which was a shame since Toptable was a much better site.

The Jam Cupboard is part of the Rydges Hotel in Kensington, on Gloucester Road. It's one of those places which seems so ineffectually part of the area you'd never think to check it out. But 50% off speaks loudly and suddenly a fun name in an unknown Kensington hotel became a lot more appealing.

The four of us tried an assortment of dishes and the general feeling for the evening was the place had done a good job. Nothing was bad, unpleasant or poorly-judged. It was, in just about every way, as good as one could hope for from a semi-modern, mostly empty unknown hotel restaurant in Kensington. I'm not one for atmosphere trumping the food wherever I eat, but this really was a muted evening. With poor food it would've been a washout.

Starters were an interesting acid test for the place, since they were all of a simple enough construct to make any mistakes stand out unforgivably. They had a pumpkin risotto on the specials so I had to go for it. Happily, there was nothing to complain about here (left). The rice was cooked with just enough bite, the salad was better than just a garnish and the whole dish was a pleasant introduction to a hearty winter meal.

The wife ordered the tagliatelle with plum tomatoes, basil and parmesan which was something of a strange one to me. It sounded like an attempt to deconstruct a pomodoro sauce; something which should never be attempted anywhere. In the event, it was properly-cooked pasta with soft tomato and a bold basil flavour (right). The most impressive facet of the dish was how fresh they had managed to make it. It wasn't fancy or elaborate but it worked. For that alone, I was impressed.

Main courses showed more of an effort to move away from standards done in strange ways and started reading like a serious restaurant. One of the party doesn't eat meat but does eat fish so a special of the day worked well: salmon with beans & salad (above left). Such a simple description may not do it justice but the fish was nicely cooked with some moisture and softness and the salad was a decent contrast to the soft beans underneath. Another in the party is absolutely a meat eater, so braised beef cheeks with garlic mash & broccoli was a great choice (above right). Another standard kind of idea but the execution is what counts and this was right on.

The wife couldn't resist the sound of twice-cooked pork belly with apple sauce and a bean salad (left). Whilst the crackling on the belly wasn't quite to her liking, the meat certainly was. Delicious, soft and fatty as well-cooked belly pork should be, this was demolished unceremoniously along with the salad, which was where I felt she might have struggled. As well as good flavours, this dish showed an understanding of portion control and a necessary contrast between light and heavy.

I pushed the boat out with a sirloin steak and chips (right). Dishes like this are standard fare on most hotel menus and why not? It's the kind of convenience comfort food business people, tourists and serious eaters alike want to try and it is another case of just how well a restaurant is doing if they can get it right. In this case it was a happily enjoyable English standard, cooked fairly well, with crispy chips and watercress acting as standard yet tasty sides.

The wife and I were in the mood for dessert (I'm not sure there's ever been a time we haven't) so we ordered the two puddings which made most sense to us having read the menu. I was feeling full after my two courses so I ordered the chocolate mousse with vanilla whipped cream and berry confit (left). It was all a bit smooth and soft - textural variation was missing, no doubt - but the mousse was rich, thick and it fit the bill impressively.

The wife went for another English classic in sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream (right). Again, there was no fussing here and nothing was left uneaten. Puddings such as these are rarely astronomical; they either work or they don't. This one did and it was a fine way to cap what had been a surprisingly pleasant evening

Suddenly we had finished. A short walk round the corner saw my colleagues back to their hotel and the wife and I were left to reflect on an evening's work we hardly thought would have stuck in the memory at first. The ever-present question when eating half-off meals is would it have been worth the full price? I have to say I think it would have. It was not spectacular but for a hotel in Kensington, the prices were just about right. At 50% off food it was a steal.

I don't know if I'll be rushing back to the Jam Cupboard. I like the name, the location and the food (three things you wouldn't usually say about a Kensington hotel restaurant) but it isn't so spectacular as to detract from some of its local competition (notably Launceston Place and L'Etranger). Throw 50% off food into the mix now and again and I'll be sure to go back some time, but in a part of London so forgotten of food and overwhelmed by grandeur, the Jam Cupboard is precisely what's needed: a small voice saying "eat here".

The Jam Cupboard

The Palm Court at The Park Lane Hotel: Mayfair, Sunday 13th January, 2013

Our first wedding anniversary was upon us and since this was such a momentous occasion, we had to celebrate with several meals, apparently. On the actual day (Monday), I booked us a dinner at Le Vacherin, about which I would find it hard to write more. On the Saturday, the wife surprised me with an out-of-town trip to The Hand & Flowers in Marlow which we were both excited about, but failed to deliver.

That left the Sunday, which happily meant we could eat somewhere in London and I could review it. Given that we had a fairly extravagant dinner on the Saturday and another on the Monday, the Sunday was effectively some light relief with afternoon tea. We've sampled some excellent afternoon teas over the past few years (the outright best still being The Dorchester) so trying a new place is always exciting.

This time we opted for The Palm Court at the Park Lane Hotel which, for the most part, follows The Dorchester's method of making the lobby the place to be. It is every inch a luxury Mayfair hotel, with high ceilings, plenty of natural light, opulent décor and generally a well-furnished setting in which to take in some sandwiches and scones.

The standard tea menu costs £33 which is high enough to reasonably expect a better than average afternoon tea. Add to that they had just won the Tea Guild's Award of Excellence for 2013 and suddenly I was hoping for an experience to rival The Dorchester. In terms of setting, there is definitely something to be said for the grandiose Art Deco room at The Palm Court and the lighting in particular was quite amazing. However, I am one for comfort when it comes to eating an afternoon tea and The Dorchester's unique blend of relaxed, warm intimacy just edged it for me.

The food itself is what really counts though. The description of the finger sandwiches certainly read well and as they were served, we were reasonably expectant (left). There were some hits and some misses here. The coronation smoked chicken with watercress on raisin bread was a resounding triumph; a sweet and juicy filling, framed imaginatively with the raisin bread. Equally, the roast beef with rocket and wasabi was carried off with little fault. The rest were less impressive though. Grated egg on carrot & herb bread was confusing, salmon on peso bread was unnecessary and the crab meat on brown bread was okay but far too dry.

This gets to the real problem with the sandwiches: they were all a bit dry and a bit underwhelming overall. Despite interesting and generally good combinations, if you're going to serve finger sandwiches which are starting to show signs of staleness, you're already losing the diner. These were not great sandwiches in the main, affected by some iffy presentation (at these prices, in this setting, I expect my sarnies to be ruler-straight cut) and some questionable freshness. What really sums it up is we didn't have any seconds.

The scones were next. Typically served with preserves and clotted cream, they were a pleasant step up from the sandwiches (right). I enjoyed these more than the wife, who said they were "pretty normal". I particularly enjoyed the fact they were nicely raised, meaning they were light and easy to cut, but still retained a bit of bite. The jams and cream were all of a standard where we took plenty more than was necessary which is something of a ringing endorsement. A definite improvement.

Finally, pastries were brought to the table (left). Now I was initially impressed with the vibrant array of colours and shapes on show but I had one substantial fear: these had been rolled over on a trolley which had been on show in the dining room since we had arrived. I may not be a pastry chef but I know if you leave a variety of soft sponge cakes and slices out in the open for any length of time they aren't going to be in the best condition when they arrive at the table. This was a let-down because all the sponges - chocolate, lemon, mixed fruit - were essentially spoiled before we'd even eaten them. It didn't help that virtually all the icings and glazes were too gelatinous and thick also.

If you've read (or even skimmed) my review of afternoon tea at The Dorchester, you'll already know The Palm Court just isn't in the same league. It is a gorgeous room with big ideas but seemingly little knowledge on how to execute them. It was indeed a memorable weekend but, following the relative disappointment of England's only two-Michelin Starred pub, this was another downer. There is wonderful afternoon tea to be had in London, which means I'm unlikely to come back to The Palm Court at The Park Lane Hotel.

The Palm Court

Kitchen W8 - Kensington, Sunday January 6th, 2013

It's with a remorseful sigh that I publish this review some fourteen months late - a theme that's sure to recur over the course of 2014. However, 2012 is now accounted for, so if anything that's one of the monkeys off my back. Additionally, the wife and I find ourselves in a position that this year is unlikely to involve much eating out. Whilst this is sorrowfully indicative of the grown-up hard times we have hit, it does give me a chance (or an excuse) to drag out 2013's reviews across the next ten months.

The first weekend of last year presented a happy opportunity to take Sunday lunch at a place we had thoroughly enjoyed ten months earlier. As with so many respectable Michelin-Starred neighbourhood restaurants, the value on offer at Kitchen W8 is as appealing as somewhere like Launceston Place. Food of such a standard at £30 per person is something which cannot be ignored.

We took a friend and the three of us surveyed the menu, with I certainly convinced the variation on show meant we'd be ordering nine dishes with no repetition. Typically, the wife and our friend instantly settled on the same starter to my dismay. That said, risotto of smoked eel & leek with a velouté of parsley sounded glorious (left). Despite this being a perfect winter Sunday starter, full of strong, confident winter flavours, it was remarkably fresh. The leek contrasted well with the salty smoked fish to produce a really interesting flavour combination. The mark of a truly excellent dish is often the distillation of complimenting flavours. This was certainly on the ball with the added bonus that I couldn't remember having had anything like it before.

I was left scratching my head as to the starter I should order, so I turned to our waitress for inspiration. The recommendation was the foie gras parfait (unsurprisingly with a £3 supplement) (right). Whilst I make no apologies for how much I adore the stuff, I am reaching the stage where I have had some of the greatest foie gras out there. As such, it becomes harder to find some which hits home as truly amazing. This was served with spiced jelly as a layer on top of the parfait, quince chutney for sharp acidity and some sourdough toast. All of it was well-made and tasted delicious but it was just a little run-of-the-mill, particularly for somewhere like Kitchen W8. Maybe I'm getting more demanding in my old age.

If my starter had seemed a little ordinary then my main course was a dish to excite the senses to the point of expectant delirium. Braised cheek and loin of pork with creamed potato, turnips, kale and prunes is a list that you get happier with the more you read of it (left). If the girls' starter had been an exciting flavour combination which was relatively new to me, this was an expert execution of tried and tested triumphs. The pork was a juicy, properly-cooked pink with the potatoes a delicious, thick base for the meat. The prunes added fruitiness and spice with the vegetables bulking out the plate in the most understated, elegant way.

The wife couldn't resist a Sunday lunch classic and chose the rib of Ayrshire beef with Yorkshire pudding (right). The beef was medium-rare and gloriously meaty as it should be. The pudding was flamboyantly large and puffy which is always a treat. It was a filling dish but it retained enough rustic charm and genuine quality to be worthwhile. The vegetables on the side reminded me that, when you can get a Sunday lunch like this as part of a £30 menu, lunching at pubs becomes increasingly unappealing.

Our friend was in the mood for more fish and chose the bream fillet served atop a bed of Shetland mussel & brown shrimp chowder (left). This was possibly a little too summery given the season for my tastes but, taken as a dish in isolation, it was lovely. The fish had properly crispy skin and was moist throughout. The chowder was creamy and rich but I would have felt a little unsatisfied had I ordered it. However, as a lighter, more refreshing option, it certainly hit the mark.

Our friend wanted to stick with the light choices throughout and her choice of blood orange sorbet for dessert certainly fit the bill (right). Sorbet is something I believe belongs on a dish as a dressing, garnish or supporting act. That said, this was intensely flavoursome: zesty, sharp and not at all watery. It wasn't something I would order since I like my desserts rich and waistline-threateningly full of calories, but the fragrance and strength in this were impressive for sure.

The wife went for another classic for her dessert: rhubarb crumble (left). I always enjoy sampling such staples in good restaurants because there is nowhere to hide with it. In this case, as they have done before, they got it just right. The rhubarb was sweet, tart and soft whilst the crumble was an unpretentious, crunchy and soft underneath topping. That's all you need to know about this dish. It was a proper crumble with proper vanilla ice cream and it was properly lovely. Whilst that might sound like a cop-out, how many crumbles out there don't hit those standards?

My dessert leapt off the page and I was again excited just by reading about it: egg custard tart with medjool dates and Clementine (right). This was a case where the fairly simple description didn't do the actual dish justice. The Clementine portion of the dish was some acidic ice cream (not a sorbet, which was the right call), adding texture and temperature contrasts. The date component was a purée, providing smoothness and a richness which contrasted beautifully with the tart. The pastry was firm but crumbly, the filling exactly a mixture of subtle spicing and comforting custard. It was precisely the sort of dish one would go to Kitchen W8 to eat.

If any restaurant is worth its place in London's upper echelons, it has to be able to deliver on the simple things whilst simultaneously opening the eyes of its patrons. Exciting food in a simple way or simple food in an exciting way... either works but the fact is there aren't a huge number of restaurants out there able to do it. Kitchen W8 is a restaurant vital to London's upper-middle tier of restaurants. It may never win a second star. I hope it never wins a second star. They should just keep doing what they do.

Following this visit, Kitchen W8 qualified as a restaurant eligible to enter my list of top five restaurants in London. (The only criteria is that one has to have been somewhere more than once to qualify as a 'favourite'.) It will be no surprise at this point to learn it has remained in the top five ever since. Click the link below and check out their more up-to-date menus: there will be something in there for you. It is intelligent, sentient, enjoyable food. It is food everyone should be eating as often as possible. It is the kind of restaurant that should be full every night of the week. I just hope I can get a table when I next want to go.

Kitchen W8

A Walk Around London: Pizza East & Imperial China - Shoreditch & Chinatown, Friday December 28th, 2012

There's nothing like showing off the city you live in. I'm a very proud Londoner and when I have friends in town it's usually an excuse to eat somewhere and enjoy a day out and about. A colleague from France (but a native Londoner) was visiting and had brought her children with her. The order of the day was to show them around a few parts of London they were less familiar with and generally get some fresh air to shake off the collective post-Christmas food hangover.

That curing a food hangover should involve both lunch and dinner might sound surprising, but hair of the dog and all that... The first part of the day was spent walking around east London, ducking in and out of vintage clothing shops, interesting side roads and the almost real-time regeneration of the east end. Lunch time hit us and it was decided we should grab a pizza. I suggested Pizza East since it was enjoyable on first visit and it was more interesting than Pizza Express.

The variety on the Pizza East menu is always a pleasant balance between exotic and familiar. There's never too much choice but there is just enough to make the first read through the card an enjoyable debate. I decided to push the boat out with a pizza and a side dish. The main event was topped with squash, pancetta, parmesan and stracchino cheese (left). This was a hearty, thick and creamy pizza. One perfect for a winter's day walk around London. The stracchino, a cow's milk cheese I had not eaten previously, contributed the creaminess without overwhelming the base and flavour elsewhere. The parmesan's sharp acidic notes gave some zip to the whole thing whilst the meat and the squash sat perfectly as the main flavours: salty, savoury and deliciously soft.

My side dish was cauliflower cheese (right). Given that I was eating a cheesy pizza it seemed a little indulgent but the fact that it was also still technically the Christmas season meant I had impunity to order all the dairy I wanted. The dish itself was a delightful mixture of both white and green cauliflower, both of which were perfectly cooked. The different types of vegetable lent a necessary textural variation to the dish and the overall effect was wonderful. Another dish perfect for a winter afternoon.

After more walking, taking us up to St Paul's by the time the day was drawing in, the wife came to meet us and we headed to Chinatown for a light supper. The lure of Imperial China was too strong to ignore and we found ourselves at a typically tasteful round table upstairs wondering what would be acceptable to order given our rather heavy lunch.

In the event, we went for a sample of dim sum dishes which started with an assortment of dumplings (left). All steamed but containing different fillings, these were a lovely way to start. All the fillings, from scallops to pork to mushrooms, were excellent. The soft, supple dumpling casings were steamed to a smooth texture which meant the whole tray was devoured in minutes.

We also ordered soft-shell crab (right). This was clasically deep-fried to crispy, greasy satisfaction. Not at all heavy or cloying, the meat was soft and sweet with a hint of saltiness to bring home the sea flavour. A dish like this is so pleasurable by its very nature that it becomes easy to dismiss it as a constant winner. However, Imperial China is the kind of place where it starts to become something a little more special than the closest one gets to Chinese fish 'n chips.

Our final main dish was a plate of pork gyoza (left). These were properly crisp, chewy and slightly soft dumplings which had been pan-fried to a perfect bite. With soy sauce on the side, these didn't last long and the fact that we'd had pizza for lunch suddenly seemed a distant memory.

Imperial China was a lovely way to finish off a busy, bustling day. Two good meals at two dependable restaurants combined with a vigorous stroll around parts of the east and central areas of town made it one to remember. There really isn't anywhere quite like London and restaurants are such an important part of that.

Pizza East

Imperial China

Infamy vs. Anonymity: Trattoria Sorrento & Carluccio's - Teddington, 24th & 27th December, 2012

Some time ago, I wrote this piece on a meal at a former favourite childhood haunt gone wrong. It was a meal that was poor but saddening at the same time. I have subsequently taken a lot of flak for this (read the comments) and it has become my most-read piece, which is somewhat unfortunate. I am not someone who wants to dismiss restaurants or indeed, to be seen as some internet hero, ragging on anywhere which is not fancy or ranked highly in the public eye.

What I am is honest. I would never contrive to give somewhere a pre-conceived review or stick the knife in for the sake of it. That meal at Sorrento was bad. It was bad cooking, bad service and a real disappointment because I really wanted to enjoy it. One year on, another Christmas Eve, the family booked a table and I was in the mood to be proved wrong.

Where last time I had been pretty unimpressed with a classic of yesteryear, I again re-approached another dish I used to enjoy : king prawns with garlic (left). Now I have to say that these were not terrible. Which sounds awfully negative but the memories of 2011 still weighed heavily. They weren't the best: slightly dry and not excessively tender, but the sauce was still the sumptuous sweet and acidic drizzle it used to be. So far, better than before with no question.

Around the table, things progressed as expected, with the family enjoying what they were served - it may be just me of course - and some of it was eye-catching. My brother tried a steak with tomato sauce which I found very dry and not so impressive. My father indulged in a stunning-looking double veal chop which turned out to be an onslaught of meat without much discernible merit. Any meat on the bone should be moist and tender - this was not.

I went for Saltimbocca for my main course. Veal with prosciutto and sage, white wine butter sauce...life doesn't really get better when it's done well. In this case, I didn't quite know what to make of the dish presented to me (right). The veal had been flattened so aggressively there was little of anything to actually taste. Tomato sauce was a mistake too. Why one would overwhelm an already part-destroyed dish, I couldn't say. I was bored by the third mouthful.

I tried some of the wife's chicken with white wine mushroom sauce and again I couldn't really see what they were going for (left). Dry, flat meat swamped in an over-rich sauce was a waste of everyone's time. Whereas the infamous visit of the year before had been a saddening, chastening experience, this was turning into one of perturbed, aggravated resignation. I started to feel that horrible feeling of just wanting to leave when you're supposed to be enjoying yourself.

Puddings came and went but barely registered. We tried panna cotta, one of the wife's favourites, but the overly-gelatinous slab of cream was beyond help, even when covered in fresh fruit (right). I was moodily resigned at this point, having hoped for something approaching passable and a redemption of sorts but I was left wanting for the second Christmas Eve in a row. The service had been laughable as last time as well, repeatedly being invasively rapped on the shoulder when I was asked to make an order. Maybe they recognised me after my first review.

A few nights later, my brother, my sister-in-law, the wife and I went a little further down the road to try a new chain restaurant location at the other end of the high street. I wrote this piece some time back about how Carluccio's is one of my favourite chain restaurants to visit because, more often than not, they get the simple things right. In fact, they can usually be depended on to hit all the notes that Sorrento had so squarely failed to.

We went for a quick dinner but in my mind this was going to be an interesting comparison between the critique-affirming nonsense we'd endured a few days prior. And here is the unsurprising conclusion: Carluccio's was better in almost every way. Delivering enjoyable food, straightforward service and okay prices, this is precisely what I am looking for in my local Italian restaurant.

Nothing was put on the table which resulted in head-in-hands abjection, nothing left a bad taste in the mouth (literally or figuratively) and it was a pleasant meal for four. A particular highlight was the crisp calamari to start (left). Served on brown paper, cooked properly with a slight resistance but soft, crunchy and with the right amount of sheen, this is food I can get on with.

Something as simple as a salad is a great barometer of where an Italian place is standing and Carluccio's got it right. Rocket, ham, tomatoes and mozzarella is easy enough but can also so easily go wrong (right). A simple starter made for sharing is a far cry from playing it safe and this was a nicely inclusive, rustic plate for the table.

The evening continued on the same theme. Linguine pasta was just about right - a mixture of cubed tomato, white wine sauce and well-prepared seafood (left). It was just simple, easily-produced but enjoyable food. Surely every neighbourhood Italian restaurant should be aiming for this sort of thing?

Desserts were a general triumph, with the wife's panna cotta being well-made but too full of rum for her liking (right). Fortunately, there were ample alternatives in the form of a proper chocolate fondant and a decent lemon tart (below left). And this really summed it up: everything we ordered was good. It sounds basic enough but it really does make a difference when the food you are eating is properly put together and served. Sorrento should take note of basic operational imperatives like this.

When I wrote my piece on the 2011 visit to Sorrento, I was beset by guilt, a doe-eyed longing for my youth and a nostalgic wish for them to learn from their mistakes and start producing memorable food for the right reasons. Then all the criticism started coming in and my stance hardened: I'm not making stuff up or looking at things with some cock-eyed pretence. This time, I hoped it would be better and - despite some improvement - it was still a poor meal.

And this is the essence of what my article title is about: do I embrace the infamy of saying I was wrong about Sorrento or do I go for the comfortable anonymity of nailing my colours to the mast of a vast chain restaurant which, in fairness, I have lauded previously. Well, as much as it would've hurt a couple of years ago to say: Carluccio's is better. Significantly better. When before I would've felt slightly bad telling people to avoid a neighbourhood institution in favour of a chain, now I feel vindicated. Bring on the backlash. Bring on the negativity. If anonymity is my choice I'm going down swinging.