The Bird in Hand - West Kensington, Thursday 11th July, 2013

Neigbourhood restaurants are a difficult thing to judge. Everyone thinks whatever's just around the corner from their place is the best you'll find and local bias can understandably be strong. Where I live, there's not a whole lot in the immediate area but then London is such a wonderfully accessible place that you're never far from somewhere interesting to eat.

Some summers ago (that's right, we're officially over two years behind now people), a work conference in London prompted three colleagues and I to invite the wife to join us for a bite to eat after a long day of discussion, round-the-table opinions and productive working groups. We'd been given a recommendation for a place that was within walking distance of their hotel and of my home which piqued my interest. The Bird In Hand used to be a pub which is now something resembling a pub, only focusing more on food. Instead of an emphasis on boozing, the main selling points are now modern food and good wine.

The menu read quite interestingly, essentially an Italian restaurant with some more British influences throughout. There was a whole section for pizza which is always fairly encouraging: if you're going to make proper pizza, it should be a feature of the menu, not an afterthought. The variation on show was just about right, with enough choice to make the menu appealing but not so much to suggest ambition outweighing ability.

Starters were two dishes the wife and I couldn't resist: mozzarella for me and seafood for her. Burrata (the soft, middle and best part of the mozzarella) is something I am always interested in, especially if it has been properly prepared and served. In this case, the dish was accompanied with slow-roasted tomatoes and pureéd basil (left). The cheese was just about right, though not as smooth as I've had elsewhere. I liked the idea of the tomatoes which had an enhanced flavour through the cooking with the skin removed to make for easier eating. A good start for sure.

The wife was instantly drawn to the braised octopus, which sounded like a classic Italian café standard, but when described on the menu, it seemed like more of an upmarket proposition (right). This was served with cherry tomatoes, gnocchi, chilli and a lemon gel. In a way, this dish was a microcosm of the idea behind the restaurant: a classic with a modern twist. Phrases like this often make me feel uneasy since it can be a cliché suggesting something is about to be pretentiously ruined. In this case, the dish and the idea was a triumph. The wife got through it with the sort of gusto and relish one would hope to see anywhere in Italy when presented with a plate of octopus and gnocchi. Equally comforting and delicious, this was impressive.

The theme of seafood continued into main courses, with the wife choosing the risotto of brown shrimp, courgette and a deep-friend courgette flower filled with prawn mousse (left). The key to this bowl of food was freshness. The wife enjoyed it very much and it was certainly a pleasant enough dish for me. However, I enjoy my risottos very creamy and rich, where this was more a case of supporting the seafood and the very enjoyable flower centrepiece. It was good, just not a spectacular dish for me.

I decided to put the pizza menu to the test (of course, the fact that it's great sharing food also helps when eating with friends) and the 'Salsiccia', with Tuscan sausage, porcini mushrooms, truffle paste and truffle oil was something I was interested in (and the wife positively insistent that we try it). It was a pretty glorious thing when brought to the table (right). Any pizza touting these kinds of ingredients ought to be suitably grand and this did not disappoint. It was thin, crisp, luxurious and rich which meant we were all very pleased.

Despite the meal to this point having been a success, we decided for some greed-forsaken reason to order three desserts. There were plenty of people at the table so I think the rationale was that we would be sharing them out. In the event, everyone tried bits and pieces but we did leave some unfinished. One of the main reasons for this was the salt caramel panna cotta, which in the event was so outrageously salty and abrasive that we couldn't get through it (left). Sometimes, caramel has the unfortunate effect of being a little too harsh on the palate and this was one such occasion.

Far more enjoyable was the strawberry and creme fraiche tart with elderflower sorbet (right). This was an excellent, summery, light pastry dessert. The cream in the tart was set well and the sorbet added a fragrant and refreshing note. The pick of the desserts for sure. We also went for the vanilla macaroon with a white chocolate mousse and raspberries (left). This was somewhere in the middle, with the sheer size of it possibly the most impressive thing about this dessert. It was sweet and enjoyable, but perhaps not at the standard we were hoping for.

This was a pleasant and unexpected meal. Which, when dining with colleagues after a long day of work talk, is about as good as one might reasonably expect. Tucked away somewhere near Brook Green is a rather enjoyable and interesting restaurant. Well I say restaurant, but I'm not entirely sure how to define it. The Bird In Hand looks like a pub. It sounds like a pub. But it doesn't taste like one.

The Bird In Hand

Mews Of Mayfair - Mayfair, Friday May 17th, 2013

One of the many wonders of eating out in London is how there's always something new to try. It's virtually impossible to get bored or ever be out of places to go. Equally, it's often the case that you just can't decide where to go and, instead of trying somewhere new, you end up reverting to type. But that's okay too. We all have our favourites and one of the best things about eating out in my book is re-trying places hoping for, sometimes experiencing, different outcomes.

This was a third visit to Mews Of Mayfair, the first having been in pre-blog days, and the wife plus two companions and I essentially decided on going there because nowhere else would be able to fit us in on a Friday night at short notice. It's not the most glamorous of reasons to choose anywhere but sometimes necessity dictates the way.

Given that my experiences here have spanned some six years or so, it's interesting reflecting on the changes that have taken place. At first, it was an upmarket joint serving very of-the-moment food and trying to move into a slightly higher level of cuisine without totally hitting the mark. A few years on, it was undecided as to whether or not to pursue this or to settle for something more homely. Last year, it seemed to have gone down more of the comfortable embrace of British locality, their menu giving us a rather charming map of where all their choice produce came from (left).

Equally, the décor and atmosphere are now closer to a simple, more laid back brasserie or bistro style. The place has relaxed for sure. But what does it mean to the food? As I am always saying, provided the stuff on the table tastes good, I'll eat and enjoy whatever the case. Four of us got through a decent amount of dishes (sadly not the 12 I would expect at dinner for four but close enough) which gave an interesting insight into Mews Of Mayfair's current ambitions.

Starters were more for sharing than anything else, and the two dishes we ordered fit the bill. Crispy baby squid with salad and mayo is always going to work as long as it's cooked right and in this case, it was about right (right). There was a sensible mixture of crunch and chew within the meat of the dish and we all nabbed a piece or two as we got on with things.

Next up was a dish that could only be considered a sharing plate in the circles I move in: scallops with samphire and bacon (left). Many people find my proclivity for sharing food an odd, slightly over-personal thing but those who know me best seem to accept it. As such, three scallops were carved up between the group and we all tried a bit. The consensus was that, whilst the scallops were by no means the best out there, the dish worked. Samphire is a delicious, slightly salty textural contrast to a scallop and the bacon was honey-cured and smoked, meaning there was no overload of salt and the sweetness completed the dish. It was a nice, if slightly unimaginative starter, though for £12.50 I would have been rather peeved if it hadn't delivered.

The wife went for the rump of lamb which came with tinkerbelle peppers and basil (right). The construct of the dish worked fairly well, with the peppers diced as a base for the meat, with basil used as seasoning. There were breadcrumbed vegetables on the side to add texture and the cook on the meat was about right. Not a spectacular dish by any means but a good one. The thing was, for £24, lamb rump should be moving above just "good" and this was a problem.

One dish we had no problems with was the safe but well-executed sea trout with scallop, asparagus and pea purée (left). Combinations like this (similar to the scallop starter) are hard to get wrong but difficult to make spectacular. In the event, the creaminess of the peas and the properly-cooked asparagus combined wonderfully well with the trout and the scallop. The saltiness of the main events with the sweetness and textural variation of the vegetables were smart, modern and enjoyable. At £17.50, this was a lot more in line with what I would expect to be paying at a modern British restaurant for pleasant food.

I opted for the Gressingham duck with peppercorn sauce (right). It seemed like a no-brainer to me: I fancied something meaty, it seemed a snip at £15.50 and there's something ever so appealing about a dish which speaks to you as soon as you read it on a menu. There were issues though... The duck was a touch overcooked which made for a grim start. The apples weren't prominent in the sauce, overpowered by the peppercorns. I'm not sure this was a bad thing however, since the sauce did work. The real downer was the pointless addition of sloppy spinach along with diced pepper. Adding nothing but bulk and colour, I was fairly bored halfway through.

We were all a bit unsure of what to make of the meal so far. There had been ups and downs and desserts could have a big influence on how we felt about the meal. We decided to share two between four since nobody was still significantly hungry and the first of these was something called '"Ethel Brumpton's" vanilla cheesecake' (left). It was a decent enough cheesecake; light, creamy and not too sweet. The addition of a passion fruit marshmallow on top was a nice enough touch which added some sweetness and acidity came from the raspberry sauce. Not bad at all.

We finished off with the custard tart which was served with rhubarb (right). This was a real treat, with the tart rich and comforting, served with a side of delicious poached rhubarb which added a typical sweet and tart contrast to the simple creaminess of the custard. Rhubarb ripple ice cream on the side was a real touch of class, adding a temperature contrast and an element of fun to the plate. This was quite possibly the best thing we ate all evening.

It was an interesting meal with some high notes and a few shockers, but it averaged out as a decent night with a few friends. In one sense, that's all one can ask for at a fairly standard kind of place in London, but then again at some of the prices we paid, average isn't good enough. I'm not sure I'd go back to Mews - maybe once more to decide what I really think of it - but it's certainly not somewhere I'll be hurrying back to. There's something I don't like about places where one will have a good meal provided one orders "the right dishes". I'm starting to think Mews Of Mayfair is one of those places.

Mews Of Mayfair

Patara: Soho, Thursday May 9th, 2013

Anybody who has been reading these pages for some time now will know my feelings on Thai food have changed a lot in the last few years. Once I felt it was a sort of fad which meant Asian food I liked was getting unfairly overlooked. More recently, I have come around to the fact that it can actually deliver on the sort of flavours and sensations I really enjoy in Asian foods. Of course, there's the natural level of spice which doesn't agree with me and the frequent use of ingredients I can't stand, but I have discovered there's plenty out there I can get on board with.

Last May a former colleague of mine was visiting London with his family, so a meal out was suggested, as tends to be my way. The wife and I met the family of four in Covent Garden and took a walk down to Soho in search of somewhere suitable. We decided Thai food was a viable option so went for a table for six at Patara, a chain which has several branches across the world, with a strong presence in London.

The atmosphere within the restaurant is quite a pleasant, refined one. It is quiet - possibly a little too quiet if the meal was for just the two of us - which made it a well-judged choice for the two children at the table. What I found slightly off-putting was the way it occasionally, in terms of service and menu, veered into the realms of that slightly tacky stereotypical Asian style which can be most unappealing. Fortunately it never became patronising which was a relief.

The food itself was pleasant and rather varied. The menu did have a slightly vague feel to it, with probably a few too many dishes at first glance. Things started with a surprisingly refreshing stuffed chicken wings plate (left). They were tender, moist and crispy, with crunchy lemongrass and lime as a dressing. This is the kind of comfort food I didn't think was possible in a Thai restaurant.

Next up were some kong neum ruam, or dumplings (right). These were fairly close to the kind of dim sum snacks I just adore and they were not bad at all. A combination of attractive colours with prawns, chicken and pork made for a great sharing starter. Elsewhere we had some chicken skewers with satay sauce which wasn't far away from the kind of standard fare one expects from a takeaway place.

Main courses featured an interesting beef cooked in an 'aromatic coconut reduction' (left). The beef was nicely slow-cooked, falling apart with minimal fuss. The sauce was a little too heady for me, too strong with coconut but the spicing was excellent. A dish which really surprised me and I finished almost all of it.

The wife ordered a speciality dish of lamb shank braised in red coconut curry (right). It was too hot for me but the meat was cooked expertly, even better than the beef I'd chosen. The sauce was a rich, deep orange which coated the meat appetisingly. It was an interesting take on Thai food which I had not seen before, taking something rather rustic and homely, transforming it into a special, celebratory plate of food.

Another dish which was a bit much for me but widely praised by others was the sliced duck served with garlic, chilli and crispy basil (left). I'd not seen much duck used in Thai cookery until this but it was inventive, if over-spiced. There was a distinct freshness to the dish which helped elevate it.

The evening progressed in a pleasant and comfortable sort of way. There is something quite incongruous about a refined Thai restaurant in Soho - it certainly doesn't capture the Zeitgeist of where Soho is moving these days - but it's a nice place to be. The younger of the children was very tired but the staff were perfectly happy to let her take a nap on the banquette. It was a fun evening with friends and - though it's not somewhere I'd go again in a hurry - if you're into your Thai food in a classic surrounding, it may well be the place for you.

Patara

Ducksoup: Soho, Thursday April 25th, 2013

Back in the days when this blog was only laughably out of date, I wrote a review of a Ducksoup dinner for three. It was an unexpectedly enjoyable evening with some impressive dishes which still stick in the memory today. Some time on - with the blog now hilariously out of date - I'm writing about another visit there when four of us went for dinner.

Ducksoup remains a place I find exciting and interesting. It's quirky with its handwritten menus and wine list daubed on the room-wide mirrors, welcoming with the low-lit candles and vinyl player and - most importantly - good food. It's the last part that makes the whole thing work, since without good food, gimmicks become mind-numbing and irrelevant.

We ate dinner the way four friends should eat dinner - in a collaborative and unreserved way. After bread & butter were dispensed with, we ordered some salted foie gras on crispy toast (left). It was soft, unctuously rich and satisfying but (critically) not over-dressed or showy. For something that tends to be considered rather pretentious, this was refreshingly simple and fairly priced at £8.

Our next choice was a pleasant-sounding combination of goat's curd, courgette flowers and honeycomb. These delivered visually but the taste was a revelation for me (right). They were crisp-fried golden in a light batter, but the creamy, salty filling was complemented perfectly by the refreshing crunchy coating and the coarse, sweet honeycomb. For someone who usually steers clear of goat's cheese, this was a huge surprise, which we hadn't heard the last of...

We spent £10 on some raw langoustines with chilli & lemon, which meant half of one each around the table (left). This was a mistake since, whilst fresh and nicely chilled, the seafood was rather tasteless and an unrewarding struggle to remove from the shells. There was a distinct absence of flavour, which made me wonder if we'd missed something in eating these. At £5 a prawn, I would expect more bang for my buck here.

It was back to familiar and reliable territory for the next small plate, which was lardo on toast (right). At this point, we had started to overdo it with the bread, but the silky, salty meat was a welcome savoury punch, showing again that with a dish like this, simple really is the way to go.

A Lyonnaise salad was the first choice from the 'kitchen' section of the menu, and at £7, this was just about right (left). A proper blend of bitter leaves with lardons, breadcrumbs and vinaigrette over a deliciously-poached egg, it was balanced, delicate, flavoursome and enjoyable. If you're going to eat salad, this is the way to do it. Our friends were particularly impressed and started debating how it could be recreated at home.

Our next larger plate was an interesting-sounding lamb, broad beans & labneh combination (right). There was something off about this, though it wasn't the temperature of the meat, which was a lovely red-pink inside. However, it was slightly charred on the outside, which doesn't really suit lamb - had it been a piece of beef it might have been great. Combined with the very mild yoghurt dressing and the inoffensive broad beans, this was a plate really missing a hit of flavour to take it to the next level.

We shared a plate of St. George's mushrooms with thyme & parmesan (left). These are (I later found out) very popular seasonal mushrooms in Europe and I really hope they had been picked locally - particularly given the name. They were an interesting variation of textures and sizes and they certainly had the flavour the lamb had been missing. The delicate seasoning of thyme and the saltiness of the cheese made for a sensible overall plate but there was still something nagging away at me. I think it was the relative insubstantial feel of the whole thing. It just didn't feel right without a bit of starch to give it body. I'm aware that's probably not what the kitchen was going for but in terms of textural dimension, it was a near miss.

At this point, we decided the courgette flowers were so great we had to have another couple before turning our thoughts to pudding. The wife and friends demolished their crème caramel as soon as it hit the table (right). There's something about this classic which never hits the mark for me. Always too gelatinous to the touch and too bitter from the caramel sauce, I can't say I've ever loved it. However, the guys all thought it was excellent and - as often in cases like these - I bow to their superior knowledge.

I, on the other hand, was quietly working my way through a glass of chocolate mousse (left). This was a sweet, rich, hint-of-bitterness triumph. Unless you go seriously upmarket with a chocolate mousse, there are two outcomes: it's either good or it's not. In this case, it definitely was and as such we ordered another straight away. The crème fraiche as a topping was the right way to temper the richness and there's no finer endorsement of this dessert than the fact we ate two.

Ducksoup is now affirmed as one of my very favourite casual places to eat. Always affordable, rarely off point and adorably appropriate. This is a restaurant which deserves to be more than just an also-ran in the Soho pantheon of friendly, rustic eateries. It's a great restaurant in its own right.

Ducksoup

Universal Appeal? Jamie's Italian: Covent Garden, Tuesday March 19th, 2013

I've never been one for attacking anything just because it's popular. If I don't particularly care for something which people seem to rave about, my resolve to stand by my opinion stiffens. Of course there are things in this world which are genuinely evil (The Black Eyed Peas' biggest hits and The X-Factor spring to mind) and their popularity ought to be challenged and derided at every opportunity.

Jamie Oliver is not someone (or something, so huge is his franchise now) that I despise, despite popularity. He is a champion of various righteous causes, he's encouraging people to cook better food and he is a realistic kind of guy. Well, maybe a meal in 30 or 15 minutes is a stretch since not everyone has a team helpfully assembling everything for you, but still. There are decent recipes in there and we've all made a Jamie dish at some point.

What I cannot abide, however, is the horrendous mockney shtick, the endless development of new ways to get the face on screen, the cavalcade of books (would you buy a book on great American cooking from a chef who half-trained in an Italian restaurant in London?), the ludicrous number of ingredients thrown into food which simply does not need it... So maybe there are some issues there after all. But, as I started by saying, the guy's alright.

Going to Jamie's Italian should be a sure thing, a home banker. Italian food is one of the things Jamie should be good at, given his background, and there can be great things in the simplest of Italian restaurants. The problem is, given that Jamie has put his name on everything, you're caught between expecting fantastic food which you 'n all yer mates can get stuck into and an apprehensive distaste for the oi oi saveloy feel of the place. The waiting staff all pedal a degree of the pseudo-cockney and it's not that enjoyable.

The menu is also a little confusing. One can order 'planks' as starters. I get the idea of the kitsch sharing dishes but it leaves an annoying taste in the mouth just from reading it. Surely a plate would be better, no? The contradictions continue: two friends ordered a plank to share and enjoyed it. A nice selection of cured meats is no bad way to get going... I chose to start with some stuffed pasta which were described as 'pillows' on the menu and which actually were pretty damn close to being so (left). The problem with these was the creamy cheese filling, which was a little too light and not giving a full-bodied Italian punch of flavour.

Main courses were another mixed bag. One friend ordered a crab pasta dish which he was delighted with and which, having tried, I thought wasn't half bad either. I decided to go for a favourite of mine: mushroom risotto (right). I had settled on this choice since the menu is such a large tome to study, littered with nauseating phrases - "Jamie's favourite!", "Jules's favourite!" - and dishes which just didn't belong. A burger on an Italian restaurant menu feels like playing to the lowest common denominator. This was somewhat lacking in the flavour, richness and creaminess one associates with great risotto. The mushrooms weren't strong enough, there wasn't enough butter and the whole thing was flat.

I wasn't sure what to make of this all so far. I had to go for a dessert to find out if something could salvage the meal and thankfully I chose well. The raspberry tart with almond was a pretty good way to finish (left). It was satisfyingly soft, rich and well-judged. This was by far my highlight of the evening and showed me there is some genuine simplicity lurking underneath the baffling menus and stacks of cooking books.

So there you have it. I think I wanted to dislike the place but in truth it isn't that bad. Given the array of restaurants in and around Covent Garden, it's not somewhere I would go back to, but if it was a family occasion with children I could totally see the appeal. This is not a restaurant striving for culinary perfection or epicurean purity, it's just trying to put people at tables. And it's doing so with ease.

And that's what I really do admire about Jamie Oliver. For all that's irritating, he's a remarkably savvy businessman. The success of his ventures speak for themselves and he's making a lot more money than some of his former contemporaries who were far more decorated cooks than he. Our obsession with Jamie has got to the point we'll eat just about anywhere he slaps his name on. My first musings on the guy were when the wife and I were surprised with his take on pizza at Union Jacks, which has sadly now only one location remaining, also in Covent Garden. Whilst that might have been a commercial failure, Jamie's Italian remains an internationally-renowned brand.

Maybe after all I just feel indifferent to Jamie Oliver. Unless he starts doing stuff like this. Then he invokes all the kind of unfettered loathing I usually reserve for the likes of Simon Cowell ventures and reality television.

Jamie's Italian

A Complaint Retracted - Thai Rice: Fulham, Friday 15th February, 2013

Some time ago I wrote this piece on how Thai food was growing on me. Aside from all the irritating spicing, nuts where they don't belong and fragrances which just aren't to my taste, there is a lot of good in Thai food. On a Friday night early last year, I got a call from a good friend who fancied catching up. We compromised on Fulham as a location we could get to easily and were on our way.

Thai Rice is part of what you'd usually call a chain, five restaurants owned by the same group. Except they're not really a chain. Each restaurant has its own distinct website and menu. There are small intricacies which make each branch slightly different, meaning you're never quite sure what to expect. The Fulham place came with a pretty decent reputation, so I was happy to give it a go.

The evening sprawled out of control instantly. We ended up spending a frankly irresponsible amount of money on a last minute dinner for four, ordering what seemed like way too much but all of which was eaten. That tells you one thing: it was a fun evening. The wife had taken some advice from a friend in the know on what to order so we also sampled a few dishes we wouldn't have otherwise been aware of; a sure bonus when visiting a Thai restaurant.

Several dishes stood out for the right reasons. Some scallops weren't cheap at around £6 each but the result was worth the expense (left). Delicately spiced and seasoned, swimming in a butter sauce, they were a great way to get us started. It was a similar story with the soft shell crab tempura, which for around £5 was great value and a typically crunchy, sweet, salty and greasy proposition (above right).

The wife tends to go crazy for a decent papaya salad when eating Thai food, something I am rarely enthused by since it is usually both too bitter and packed with nuts for me. In this case it was refreshing, cool and a great accompaniment to the food (left). Still too many nuts for me but the wife loved every mouthful. She remarked that the salad was very traditionally and typically Thai, with the sweetness coming from the peanuts.

In ordering our food we had thrown caution to the wind and dishes to the table were a procession at this point. Some 'off menu' beef with noodles was a delight which I had not been expecting at all. The meat was tender, salty, savoury and sitting in a throaty, rich broth. All the tiresome clichés I had been dismissing about Thai food began to drift away somewhere in amongst the table which was now becoming so full we could barely fit our own plates on it.

No English person's visit to a Thai restaurant is complete without either a curry or some noodles. Naturally we had both. The curry was a delicately-balanced, mild yet flavoursome bowl (right). This was a Panaeng curry which I had never heard of, but our friends in particular put paid to this with no time to stand on ceremony. The noodles were a fairly unadventurous chicken variety but were a nicely grounded plate around some of the headier flavours.

We ordered some Pla Ma Kham which was sea bass served with pineapple, vegetables and a spicy sauce (left). I was not so bothered with all the sides to the dish, just hugely impressed with the tender, moist flesh underneath. There's something so delightfully refined and pure about a fillet of Asian fish and this was a terrific example. It was another plate which sat well with the rest of the cavalcade of food we were eating.

Making sure we had enough meat, we ordered two dishes which had been sliced and grilled, then served with variations on spicy sauce. Both the chicken and the pork were delicious and earned us the dubious achievement of having eaten just about every animal on the menu. This was all being washed down with mango lassi for me, beer for one friend and Thai milk tea for the other and the wife.

This was a ridiculous exuberance of a night out but a great one. The meal was lots of fun and all the food was great. I can't say I am now a huge Thai food fan but this kind of experience is making me re-think my past criticisms. Thai Rice is a great place to spend a Friday evening with friends. If that's not a ringing endorsement of a restaurant, I don't know what is.

Thai Rice

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