Bone Daddies: Soho, Sunday April 7th, 2013

Soho as a food district is still the most happening place in London. For all the east end's newfound hipster energy and the expansion of Brixton's food scene, pretty much all successful new franchises are opening up in the busiest part of the west end. Any new opening in Soho is worth a study, and Bone Daddies ramen bar was a place the wife and I were hoping to try sooner rather than later.

Last spring presented an opportunity with a friend from Germany dropping into town for a few days so three of us showed up on a Sunday evening and had a pleasantly short wait for a table (of course you can't reserve tables since it's a modern-day Soho restaurant.) It has the perfect look and feel: bustling, noisy, casual and welcoming. For anywhere calling itself a ramen bar, this is what I'm interested in.

The menu is refreshingly simple too. A few types of ramen noodle bowls, a few specials on the board, a small variety of drinks... this is modern Japanese eating in the most appealing way. We got started with a few different items from the 'snacks' portion of the menu. First up were sweet 'n spicy ribs, which had the wife in particular in raptures (left). They were chunky, meaty, spicy as anything and genuinely close to the sort of pork ribs you might find in Asia, I was told. They were too hot for me but the wife and our friend made short work of them.

I was more interested in the fried chicken (right). Served oh-so-Soho in a mini metal bucket, it was crispy, tender and moist. The skin had been left on before frying which added a juicy, fatty texture without being flabby or excessive. The girls both tried some but about 75% of this was wolfed down by yours truly. If this is really a 'snack', I want a bucketful at my desk daily. Genuinely excellent starter finger food.

We also went for some yellowtail sashimi with lime & soy sauce (left). This was chilled, fresh, soft and just about everything you want for a cold fish starter. The nature of this starter was that little bit more upmarket than the chicken and ribs. It was scaled back, elegant and just surprisingly fine. From the so-called 'snacks' alone, Bone Daddies had already won me over. The real challenge was to come with the main course though, since I'm not a huge fan of ramen or Asian soups in general.

I tend to enjoy thick, rich, velouté-style soups. The kinds of bowls which are the kind of sumptuous thing you need a spoon to eat, rather than being able to drink it out of a glass. Since Asian soups are most often thin they don't quite sit well with me. That said, anything one terms as 'soup' which also contains cuts of meat, eggs, vegetables and other tasty gubbins is a pleasant misnomer for me.

I looked at the menu and it advertised a special of 'BLTEC ramen'. As a joke I remarked that it might stand for bacon, lettuce, tomato, egg & cheese. A passing waitress mentioned that I was actually right, so I just had to give it a go. What I got was not quite in line with what I had imagined (right). It was more or less carbonara soup but thinner, with too much pepper. It was so rich you couldn't really taste the noodles and whilst some of the flavours were enjoyable, it just wasn't a bowl of what I would call Japanese food.

The ladies decided to stick to more traditional ramen fare and were happy in doing so. The classic pork ramen was a sight to behold even to me (left). Combining shredded pork meat, pork bone broth, a poached egg, grilled sweetcorn, seaweed and all manner of subtle seasoning, this was a surprise to me and a happy familiarity to the wife and our friend. This had changed my opinion of ramen as I knew it which is no mean feat. The wife opted for a similarly soothing and fresh broth with seafood and Korean kim-chi. Too spicy for me by half but it was met with resounding approval.

Bone Daddies is one of the places in Soho which doesn't feel forced or tired. It's worth a visit because it is a smartly exciting restaurant serving food which actively stands out against its competition in the west end. It's authentic, inexpensive and fun. What else could one want?

Bone Daddies

Polpo: Covent Garden, Sunday March 31st, 2013

2013 was a year of big plans, big saving and big eating. Somehow we managed to fit the last part in there, though I can't really work out how. The wife and I continued to dine well all through last year, which, considering the lack of meals so far in 2014, is a blessing for my beleaguered efforts to bring this damn thing up to date. Over Easter, a friend visiting a friend visiting London gave us a great excuse to get another meal in there at the end of March.

Polpo has served us well since it opened on Soho's Beak Street. There have been occasional trips back and we have recommended it to just about everyone because if you want affordable, charismatic, fashionable Italian food; this is it. Covent Garden has been re-branded from the original guise of Da Polpo to simply 'Polpo Covent Garden'. There are now three branches with the opening of a newer site in Smithfield and Polpetto has been re-located to Berwick Street in Soho. In amongst this, Russell Norman has also opened the Ape And Bird pub, just to keep things fresh.

Keeping it fresh is not something the wife and I tend to do when visiting a Polpo restaurant. It tends to be what we know we like with a little variation thrown in once in a while. Having others with us is good because it means we can try some dishes we would not usually give much thought to. In this case, the Sicilian white anchovy salad was one of them (left). Combining bitter, crunchy leaves with the salty fish, this was a pleasant and appropriate way to kick off an evening's eating.

Our next stop was a special of the day we just could not resist: wild mushroom pizzetta (right). There is something about robustly-flavoured, soft mushrooms on a doughy base which I find irresistible and this was worth the £7.50 for sure. Equal parts delicate and simple, food like this needs no fanfare, it just needs eating.

We kept things very standard with our next two choices. We always seem to go for the spaghettini and meatballs at Polpo, the beef & pork a suitably comforting, bullish flavour with the ever so slightly spicy tomato sauce (above left). They were as hearty, warming and delightful as ever. Equally, the fritto misto was a crunchy, crispy plate of properly-battered and fried seafood (above right). It was light, full-flavoured, salty and fresh. The three of us devoured it with little regard for etiquette.

The dessert we were all drawn to was the panna cotta, served with rhubarb and pistachio (left). Whilst I could see the appeal of some nut crumble to provide textural variation, the wife and I weren't interested and had one each with no nuts. Panna cotta is something I wouldn't usually choose when dessert comes around but rhubarb is. In this case, I was delighted with the choice. The cream was not overly set or gelatinous which is half the battle with pannna cotta. The rhubarb was poached to a gentle bite and the whole thing worked wonderfully well. It was a great end to a pleasant meal. So much so that the wife and I instantly ordered another each. When the bill came, we realised £32.50 had been spent on panna cotta. They were that good.

A meal at pretty much any Polpo branch is guaranteed to be fun, interesting and generally enjoyable. The food is not overpriced, it stays simple and is a reminder that good Italian food is all about a sensible balance between rustic and refined.

Polpo

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