A Vision Becomes Reality: Hedone - Chiswick, Friday November 30th & Wednesday December 19th, 2012

I love stumbling upon somewhere I had no idea about. Especially when it's on a well-trodden path. There is a building near where I work which has changed hands and guises many times since 2006. At various times a bar, a restaurant, a lounge and a café, nothing really stuck. Until summer 2011. A big refurbishment started, leaving the wide-fronted structure wood-panelled and looking as if something mysterious was occurring within.

What was actually happening took a little time to fully realise. And, thankfully for me, a restaurant was happening. But not some high street, wipe-clean menu, chain restaurant. A restaurant restaurant. A restaurant with some grand ideas and noble, ambitious pretensions. I started to notice exciting menus being sporadically displayed outside throughout the week. Menus which made one stop and re-read. Dishes such as broken duck egg with apricot and girolle mushrooms did not belong on the kinds of menu I had seen here before.

Hedone is a restaurant run by a former blogger, the Swedish Mikael Jonsson. Technically this guy is my hero even though said information is all that's needed to qualify him as such. Anyone who can take a seemingly cursed building, put a proper restaurant inside and then start generating gushing reviews - from a blogging background - is worth time and attention.

When the reviews started, they were all positive. So much so that I was certain a meal here was never going to live up to the billing. The end of 2011 came and went and I hadn't mustered up the courage or cash to walk less than two minutes from my place of work to try it. That said, their opening hours for the first six months were a mish-mash of weekend lunches and random evenings, by the look of it. I later found out that Jonsson was trying to work out the best ways to proffer and price the menu before going at it full scale. I found this refreshingly honest: if you think it's not right, tell me and I will work on it.

Towards the end of 2012, they had clearly found their feet well enough. A Michelin Star arrived in the 2013 guide and they had started opening for lunch on certain weekdays. This was big news in every way. As such, two trips close together towards the end of the year - one planned, one most certainly not - were put together with similar results.

As all good toppy restaurants outside the middle of town (and in my opinion most of them in town) should have, Hedone offers a very reasonable express lunch menu. No choices but at £25 for three courses, this is value which demands a closer inspection. Three of us went for that on the first visit (the wife went for a la carte) and the wife and I both had the express menu on our second visit. If you're wondering, the reason the second visit was unplanned was the wife oversleeping by the small matter of a few hours. Michelin-Starred lunch isn't a bad way of making up for it though...

Instead of a blow-by-blow account of each visit, I'm going to compare dishes from each visit. I'll start with one ultra-consistency in terms of flavour, then secondarily, the actual dish. Their desserts featured apple on each visit. And boy were these desserts to fawn over. On the first visit, the wife's mille-feuille of apple in absolutely perfect flaky pastry with ice cream was a vision and execution of expert comfort and fanciness in a delicious pudding (above left). That is nearly impossible to top, but the standard dessert on the express lunch menu on each occasion was a rather exceptional salted caramel parfait with apple purée (above right). The cold cream was light, sweet-salty perfection with the apple adding a pleasant acidic note of textural variation.

Soup was the starter on the express menu on each occasion. The pumpkin soup on our first visit was intense, rich and a proper autumnal bowl of comfort (left). With a similar look and feel, the cauliflower soup of December's menu was a far creamier, more flavoursome proposition (above right). I probably preferred it overall since the soup's thickness and natural sweetness of the vegetable was more pronounced. They were both quite lovely and humble bowls to start a brisk lunch.

The wife's two dishes (starter and main) from the a la carte in November were interesting and creative. Her starter of a fried duck egg with pea foam, seaweed and mushrooms was a deep and varied mixture of strong tastes and soft textures (left). It was a starter that read as a fairly striking and original combination, but it made a lot of sense when put in front of you. Now that's how to serve modern upmarket food. Her main course of lamb noisettes with aubergine was a more traditional idea but carried out in a no-nonsense way (above right). The meat was beautifully pink with a juicy fat crust. Personally I would have preferred the fat a little more rendered but the taste was a smooth and salty blend of perfection. The aubergine on the side was grilled, puréed and dressed to combine well with the meat.

The main courses on each express menu were comparable in that they were made up of a meat, a sauce and a side. The pork with broccoli and quince & apple sauce was a well-conceived plate which was a perfect size for a brief lunch (left). My problem was with the meat which was a trifle dry. The duck with root vegetables the following month was a less interesting plate since there was no colour variation and only one cut of meat (above right). The confit leg was too salty in the event, which dominated the dish too much.

The issue I had with the express lunch on both visits was with the main course, but for value and quality in general, there is very little to complain about on a lunch menu like this. The extras - bread & butter and a soft toffee at the end - were also very enjoyable. The restaurant is a sleek, neutrally welcoming room framed in dark brown wood and the best thing about this whole venture: an open kitchen.

Now I find open kitchens a little tacky and distracting. In most restaurants they aren't adding anything outside of an unnecessary noise level and a chrome sheen to the dining area. In this case, the kitchen (and I believe it is a glorified finishing area) lends a serene variation to the room. There is something about watching your dishes being finished in a Michelin-Starred kitchen which makes everything that bit more tantalising. There's something about Hedone which makes the hairs on the back of the neck stand up. That's what happens when a blogger-turned-restaurateur gets it right.

Hedone

Racine - Knightsbridge, Friday November 9th, 2012

History repeats itself rather freely when wandering through the finery of western Westminster. Apparently. When once the "other half" and I traipsed in to Racine some years ago, a similar aimless evening walk brought us to their door once more in November last year. I was somewhat hesitant to indulge, given various savings we were trying to make, but the wife was insistent that Friday night deserved a dinner and a dinner we should have.

Racine is instantly a fairly likeable restaurant. It's unpretentious, rustic-looking and unassuming in a way which contrasts much of its local competition. There is enough Gallic background and feeling in its dark-walled room and home-styled menu to remind people that French dining can be far from pretentious and intimidating.

They did, however, have something to prove to me. On our first visit, I had not been overly impressed and I was hoping that, with a little more patience and time at our disposal, we would find out why this place had stood such a test of time in a competitive area of London.

Since time was not a worry, we both ordered starters and main courses. Mine was a no-brainer: a salad of poached egg, lamb's lettuce and salsify with truffle dressing (left). This is the sort of starter that leaves nowhere to hide and in the event it was not a problem. There was nothing too bitter, no exaggerated sweetness, nothing over-seasoned or lacking in flavour. Just rich, green leaves supporting the smooth and savoury salsify and a delightful earthy, spicy hint of truffle running through it. The egg was, needless to say, poached perfectly.

In a similar semi-extravagant vein, the wife went for mussels to start (right). Whilst mussels in a French restaurant should usually be a fairly rustic and simple dish of braising liquor along with wine, bread and a little cream, this was a different proposition. The mussels were served astride a mousse of garlic and saffron, adding sweetness to the naturally salty seafood. The texture of the mousse was an enjoyable play on more traditional accompaniments which worked, on the whole. The issue I took with this was the richness and size made it slightly over-rich in general.

Main courses were quite exciting since the whole card read like a list of stuff one just wants to eat and keep eating. The wife went for the enticing proposition of lamb confit with mogette beans, parsnip purée and rosemary flavours (left). If you get one thing from the picture, it's that it does look delightfully rustic. And it certainly was. Hearty in the extreme, the lamb was packed with flavour...but just, so much flavour. Herein lies the issue with slamming a plate full of bold tastes: things start to get lost. The garlic garnish shone through, eventually making the whole thing a breath-paralysing proposition when it did, where the white beans were lost amongst the strong sauce and purée.

My main course was a heavier idea than my starter had been; though braised veal, aligot (mash 'n cheese) and trompette mushrooms is heavier than just about anything else on most menus (right). This presented a similar issue to the wife's main course: a dense and ultimately unforgiving plate of food. That's not to say it was bad - the first two mouthfuls were amazing bundles of crispy-soft veal and buttery mushrooms, backed with smooth and rich potato. However, by the third I was starting to flag and the saltiness and richness of the dish was getting the better of me. For all the good things, I couldn't finish it and that, sadly, means they just didn't get it right.

We weren't totally sold on desserts since main courses had knocked us so squarely for six, but we remembered how lovely a chocolate terrine had been on our first visit, so we indulged our sweet teeth. The wife went for a classic favourite of hers; creme caramel (left). Personally I don't go for this as a dessert since the sharp saltiness of the caramel does not agree with me, and overly jellified desserts aren't my thing anyway. She knows her stuff when it comes to these kinds of things though, and the verdict was not good.

I was tempted by a rice pudding, a dessert which I had gotten into in a big way in 2012 (right). This came with a sweet caramel sauce which had been stirred through the pudding. All in all, it represented the sort of comfortable simplicity the main courses had been striving for but never reached. It was well-portioned, not overly sweet, enjoyably creamy and outright pleasant.

Looking back over the meal, I was half-tempted to call it a success since I had very much enjoyed my starter and dessert. However, the big problem for me (or any diner) is when two out of two main courses miss their mark. As much as I love puddings, you just can't get away with falling short on what is essentially the main event for both diners.

As I began by saying, there is a certain something about Racine which makes it a place I just can't write off, but I am running out of patience. I know I'll be back here one day but I hope that when I am, the menu (or at least my choices) will exhibit a little control, balance and refinement to counter what really does make Racine enjoyable: their welcoming and generous nature. It's not a bad restaurant, just a slightly infuriating one.

Racine

Viet Grill: Shoreditch, Friday November 2nd, 2012

With November having passed - and me realising the gap between meals eaten and reviews written stretches beyond a year - everyone can now shave off their moustaches for another year. Last year, a friend (who usually wears a beard) was complaining of the effect the cold weather was having on his face having had to shave in the line of men's health. This culminated in the line "why does Movember have to be in November?" which was a nice way to start the evening.

The evening, it turned out, was eating in Shoreditch. The wife and I, along with many others, headed to one of the many Vietnamese places which are rife in the east end these days. I'd not heard of Viet Grill but any place wouldn't have made much difference to me since I was feeling somewhat sceptical and didn't have much interest in trying an Asian cuisine I knew very little about.

My own narrow-mindedness aside, around ten of us took our seats in a packed and buzzing downstairs which certainly filled me with hope for the evening to come. Despite being one who always stays on the side of good food over anything else, there is something about a bustling joint that comforts and reassures.

There were highs and lows throughout the meal. It was, I don't mind admitting, a lot better than I had expected. Simple things like their mango lassi were rather lovely, if not in the same league as Quilon. There were other small highlights from dishes such as soft-shell crab (left). Not too greasy or spicy, it went down a treat.

Spring rolls are a part of Asian cuisine which usually provoke plenty of eye-rolling from yours truly, mainly due to various ruinous takeaways and supermarkets. That said, if they are done with some kind of variation and good taste there's enough in there to hold my interest. These were of the pork and mushroom variety and were actually quite a treat (right). The rolls themselves were thicker and crispier, a quite impressive textural difference to the usual thin and crunchy insubstantial casing one is used to. The filling was a classic Asian mixture of salty, savoury and punchy tastes.

Other dishes we enjoyed around the table were chicken with anchovy (a well-balanced, salty proposition), simple noodles & rice (staples which were of a reasonable standard), some whole fish (moist, soft and properly cooked) and some pork & beef noodle soup (left). The wife ordered this and it was of a suitably spicy and fresh nature for her. Naturally it was far too chilli-ridden for me but she enjoyed it along with the rest of the assortment at the table.

Finally, I ordered something for myself in the shape of some fillet beef salad (right). This initially looked a little insubstantial and as if it was lacking variation but the dish worked excellently. A mixture of leaves and dressing lent a pleasant textural and acidic variation to the dish itself which in turn made the very well-cooked beef stand out. There were fragrant citrus notes, subtle spices and - most importantly - some lovely meat on the plate.

After the meal, I was pretty much a Vietnamese convert. Whilst the main obsession with London's interest in this kind of cooking is Pho noodle broth, this meal showed me there is a great deal to admire about proper Vietnamese food. Fresh, rustic and interesting, the meal was a meeting of old and new friends in an atmosphere conducive to having a good time. This is a restaurant which rose above the clamour and posturing of the east end to change my mind and remain firmly on my list of places to return to.

Viet Grill

Royal Dragon - Chinatown, Friday 26th October, 2012

Chinatown is one of the most interesting places in London to me. The rectangle of the West End, bordered by Lisle Street, Charing Cross Road, Shaftesbury Avenue and Wardour Street is so alive, so colourful and so full of food. Even if the aim is not related to dim sum, dumplings, duck pancakes or snack shopping, I always relish a walk around because there is always something new to notice, some more tourists overwhelmed or some more temptation in waiting.

One of the hardest things to accomplish when in Chinatown is to find somewhere genuinely decent to eat. In terms of Lisle Street, it more or less starts and ends with Imperial China. As for the main street, it can be a tougher proposition. Three of us went into Royal Dragon on the main street, given that we'd been here before and we knew it was likely to be good.

The food we ate was actually rather tasty. It was late in the evening, following a birthday party and at that sort of hour, you're looking at places becoming increasingly full of people who just want sustenance at a moderate cost and damn the quality. Here, it's a little different. Their deep-fried soft shell crab, for example, is something I've enjoyed many times and is certainly a cut above the standard kinds of mush in batter you might find elsewhere (left). Moist, sweet and fresh, it's just as deep-fried seafood should be.

Equally enjoyable are their meat dishes. Barbecued pork and stir-fried chicken are both things which you nearly expect to go horribly wrong at a late night Chinese restaurant but here it works well (right). Big, sensible flavours combining with a genuine Asian sensibility might sound simple, but it's all too often missing from London restaurants.

Even standards as trite as 'crispy duck' are great here (left). Not at all the dry, shredded rubbish we have come to accept as standard, this is more a succulent, rich, comfortingly fatty delight which can cure midnight hunger, hangovers and a critic's gripes.

'It is not one of the most incredible restaurants I have eaten in, but it is a welcome and staunch venue in one of those places where it can be hard to get a genuinely good feed. It's certainly got my recommendation and it's somewhere I will continue to go when I am in the West End and in need of a late supper.

Royal Dragon

Remembering a Classic: Medlar - Chelsea, Saturday October 20th, 2012

Writing about great food is pretty easy. Making such writing interesting is probably the hard part (and I welcome any comments on how bland and uninspiring my script can be), along with explaining why something was so delicious and awe-inspiring. I think, in all honesty, that's the essence of being a good critic. Which is definitely not easy.

I love the feeling of going somewhere you just can't wait to try. Somewhere you've read about for months, somewhere you are dying to sample, somewhere that just deserves time and attention. After a rather hectic early October 2012, we took a bit of time out for a couple of holiday breaks (lovely to get a bit of late summer European sunshine) and came back to a town shrouded in mid-Autumn gloom. To celebrate (or commiserate), we headed to Medlar in Chelsea, somewhere which was about to receive its first Michelin Star and a place I had been itching to try all summer.

The one thing which strikes you about the Medlar menu is how charmingly reasonable everything is. The standard a la carte dinner menu is (still) a wallet-pleasing £45 and the Saturday lunch was a mind-boggling £30 for three courses. That's with a wide variety of choice and few supplementary charges. Anywhere that offers this sort of affordability with so much good press is a no-brainer.

The menu read like a dream, and the wife and I quickly settled on a few choices we would each like and share between us. A pleasant variety of bread & butter came and went and we were ready to get stuck in to starters. Mine was a rather incredible crab raviolo with brown shrimps. (At this point I would usually post a photo but in my haste, I only had time to snap a rather inadequate shot using my now-defunct Blackberry to brag about my lunch on Facebook.) It was a heavenly combination of heady, salty seafood flavours combining to great effect with the leek fondue and bisque which the pasta was sitting in. The pasta was perfect and the filling was an exceptionally cooked, beautifully seasoned, creamy delight.

I helped to inform the wife's choice and it was something I had heard very specific and enticing things about since Medlar had been on the map: duck egg tart (left). This is a dish conceived in the most pure and elegant way, with a fried duck egg on top of a flaky pastry circle, surrounded by bacon, turnip purée, red wine sauce and duck hearts. It was a delicious, meaty and rich plateful, combining English classics with a modern finish and perfectly-sized to cap it all.

Starters had blown me away. Whatever followed, the reputation of the place had been justified based on the first two dishes we tried. Nothing was going to match these but it didn't really matter. The wife ordered steak for her main course (right). It was an under-blade fillet, meaning it was cheap enough as part of what most of us know as 'chuck', but had been carefully cooked so as not to be overdone or chewy. It was served with some perfectly edible triple-cooked chips, salad and Bearnaise sauce. Plus snails. Now I often take issue with snails because they can be slightly chewy and more than often a bit pretentious. Sadly here I don't think they added much to the dish. The wife disagreed and demolished the plate double-quick. As an overall plate it was not bad, but not up to the standard of the starters.

My main course was a surprise to myself in that I went for fish. Seafood followed by fish is one of those rare menu choices I'll make on average about once a year given that my preference is always meat over fish. In this case though, I felt instantly vindicated. A sumptuously-cooked fillet of Cornish Brill was light, buttery and melt-in-the mouth satisfying (left). I would suggest the fish had been gently fried, given the flavour, but it could have been cooked in a water bath, so delicate was the touch. The accompaniments were inspired: Jerusalem artichoke purée for earthiness & rich savoury punch, braised chicken wings for a sweet-salty compliment to the fish, crisp pancetta for textural variation and salsify to remind one where the food came from. As a combination on a plate, I can't remember having had a better piece of fish.

Desserts presented a small issue since most of them contained nuts, alcohol or both which the wife and I are not fans of. However, as any decent restaurant should try to do, they accommodated accordingly. The wife ordered the almond panna cotta which would usually have come with Pedro Ximenez sherry (right). It came with poached pear and Ricciarelli biscuits. The panna cotta was well-set and creamy, the biscuits a much-needed crunch and continuation of almond sweetness and the poached pear just right. It was a perfect dessert after what had been a heavy and rich meal.

My dessert was a fruitier, more complex proposition. Whenever you order the glorious, fork-intimidating thing that is a mille-feuille, it had better deliver in terms of texture and exciting flavour combination. This was a blackberry one, and damned exciting it was too (left). Served with variations on lemon curd (cream on the top and ice cream on the plate), it was a much-needed sour shock of flavour at the end of a meal which threatened to put me in my grave, so deftly comfortable it had been. But the sourness was not unpleasant in the least. It had been well-measured with the rich, fresh blackberries to allow the pastry and typical sweetness in the ice cream to sit alongside. It was perhaps a bit much for the wife but I saw it off with no complaints.

As we contemplated the outrageous quality of the meal we had just finished, four gorgeous, dusted chocolate truffles were placed on the table. We ate them with childish speed, so as we were signing the bill, four more came. These were eaten with about as much ceremony as the first four. Then, as we were about to get our coats, four more came to the table.

Since by this point, everyone knows how amazing Medlar is, I don't need much of a conclusion. Just read what I have written above. I had so much fun writing this because I could recall every taste, every emotion and every single thing that makes Medlar just about the best 'new' restaurant in London. If you haven't been, you absolutely must go. But seriously, if you haven't been... where have you been?

Medlar