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.

Launceston Place: Kensington, Sunday 23rd December, 2012

The wife and I have many food traditions, some of which fall around winter. There's the early winter group meal, the home-cooked one with just the two of us, the big celebratory family efforts over the holidays and there usually is a meal for two at a restaurant just around finishing for the year. The wife tends never to have a long Christmas break, given that she works in retail. I do get the week off work though, which is always appreciated and gives a nice 'end of term' feeling to mid-December.

Usually we tend to vary between something rather extravagant and something more modest depending on how pre-Christmas spending has gone, but 2012 was a middle ground to galvanize our appetites in the best way. Sunday lunch at Launceston Place is just about the best Michelin-Starred deal in terms of both value and consistency in London. Three courses for around £30 is nothing to sniff at and the food is almost always worth it.

To start things off they gave us salted cod bon-bons and some choux pastry buns filled with a blue cheese bechamel sauce (left). As far as canapé morsels go, these are just right in terms of being simple and comforting, yet bringing a depth of flavour which make one pause to savour as they are scarfed down. Bread and butter, as always, is something I ate dangerous amounts of before menus were even on the table.

Since Launceston Place got its Michelin Star, it has been a generally great place to eat. The one thing I really miss, though, is their amazing starter of poached duck egg with truffles on toast. Whilst that now appears to be a fond memory, they often do throw an egg dish on their starter card these days which the wife ordered (right). Slow-cooked duck egg served in cep cappucino (mushroom soup to you and me) with lardo of Pata Negra pork (ham fat to you and me) and white beans was a winner. The salty, smooth white fat combined with the delicious egg to provide a gorgeous classic combination. The beans added body and texture while the ceps were a solid and earthy base.

My starter was something which appealed in terms of the content if not the initial description. An autumn vegetable salad is not something I would usually order, but when the ingredients include pickled carrots, truffled cream cheese and beetroot, I was convinced (left). The carrot and beetroot were both perfectly flavoursome, salty and sweet. There was pickling, salt-baking and some simple cooking in there, which provided a contrast of textures and subtle differences in taste between the main ingredients. The honey-mustard dressing, gentle leaves and truffle cheese running through the dish were perfectly-judged and exceptional support to finish off what was an unexpectedly delicious starter.

One of the joys of Launceston Place is that they can take something seemingly luxurious and give it a very low-lit, comfortable feel. "Pan fried pigeon" on a menu is usually something I would assume to be quite upmarket and pricey but here it becomes more a plate of Sunday lunch which suits anybody (right). Nicely served pink and very moist, the soft shallots were a good dressing to add to the green beans and garlic mash. Whilst it wasn't spectacular, it was a pleasant and warming dish.

A roast on a Sunday is a cliché I am delighted to indulge in as often as possible. There is something about proper roast chicken that makes me very happy and this was an interesting take on it (left). In lieu of a proper and substantial gravy (which I would usually insist on), mushroom purée was a thick, creamy and perfectly complementary alternative. Potatoes flavoured with Douglas fir were soft and rich, whilst crispness came from the chicken skin and greenness came from brussels sprout leaves.

The wife picked a dessert that had been put together with such obvious appeal it was either going to be a total bust or as good as it sounded. 70% dark chocolate mousse with poached pear, pastry, salted caramel and milk ice cream was happily as great as it should have been (right). The mousse was thick yet light, the caramel tempering it with a savoury hint. The pear added a subtle, fruity note with the glorious creaminess coming from the ice cream.

My dessert was totally fitting coming just before Christmas: winter fruit strudel with cinnamon ice cream (left). It was something of a risk since the description was rather vague, but every bite into the soft pastry was reminiscent of fragrant spiced fruit associated with the festive season. Alternately sweet and tart, the citrus fruit and rind was an interesting yet familiar flavour, served in a creative and appealing way. It was a taste of Christmas just as the working year ended.

Whilst Launceston Place may be phoning it in slightly with some of their menu construction for Sunday lunchtime, the execution and quality is consistent and satisfying. The dishes justify the reasonable value, the venue is pleasant, the staff are on point; it's a great weekend meal. There's a reason the wife and I have been going back to Launceston Place so much in the last few years: it's a lovely restaurant which bears re-visiting time and again. If you haven't eaten here, find a free Sunday afternoon as soon as you can.

Launceston Place