Hollow Legs

Morito

2013-05-15T16:45:00.002+01:00

Exmouth Market is one of those places where when it's sunny, I'm sure it's lovely. On this particular May evening, it was hammering down with rain. Equidistant by about a mile from any tube station, it is what is known as a right pain in the arse to get to. When you walk inside Morito though, you can't help but feel immediately happier, from both the smells coming from the grill and the sunny orange tones that decorate an otherwise quite spartan room.

The baby sibling of Moro next door, couples are invited to sit at the bar (my preferred spot for dining, if I'm honest) while larger groups huddle around small tables that line the wall. Space is at a premium here; music is lively but the hum of conversations is at a decent level.

It is described as a tapas and mezze bar; to me it was more familiar as tapas, with a few Middle Eastern touches thrown in. We were given samples of various sherries to taste as we had uhm'd and ah'd over the selection, the padron peppers a decent accompaniment. Alas, not a hot one in our batch, they'd have benefitted from a hotter pan but were otherwise pleasant enough.

Salt cod croquetas were well fried and light, their insides flavoursome and nicely accompanied by the lemony mayonnaise. Spiced shreds of lamb with pine nuts and pomegranate was served on a creamy bed of mashed aubergines, and I wish we'd ordered some of the delicious-looking flatbreads to scoop it up with. Forks sufficed.

Fried baby squid, called puntillitas, were perfectly crisp and tender, sometimes juicy in their little bodies. Sprinkled with sumac, they cried out for some sort of aioli or sauce to dip them in. Palermo prawns (below) with mojo verde were pretty stunning; sweet flesh and grilled with garlic, it was livened by the sprightly coriander sauce. A Mexican stand-off of hungry eyes met over the plate for the remaining fifth prawn. We begrudgingly shared.

Seafood seems to be a strong point of theirs, as demonstrated by a pretty plate of octopus salad and incredibly sweet tomatoes. Capers and red onion were boosted by fronds of dill and monks beard. An accomplished dish, it was a nice change from the usual paprika-dusted octopus you often see at tapas bars.

Meat dishes, on balance, were less successful. Duck hearts and gizzards (back dish) sounded interesting on the menu but sadly weren't up to much on the plate. While the pork belly was well cooked with tender flesh and crackled skin, it was unbearably salty. The waitress gave me a shrug when mentioned. The morcilla that arrived atop the vibrant braised peas and orange was largely ignored, though we scooped up the vegetables hungrily. We were revived with meaty grilled asparagus spears, tarted up with chopped egg and dill.

A meal of ups and downs food-wise, but we enjoyed it nonetheless. It might have been the bottle of Txakoli, poured at a height to emphasize the fizz, that did it. More likely that was the seafood dishes that really were very good, and the staff friendly and engaging. Oh, and that boozy finish of raisin ice cream drenched in sticky Pedro Ximenez to send us off out to the gusting rain. That helped too.

Not cheap, as decent tapas rarely is for those of us with appetites. When I was approached by Match.com (who sponsored this post) to eat out at a date venue with an £80 budget, my research suggested that these days, £40 a head doesn't get you far unless you're teetotal. And no one wants to be on a teetotal date now do they? We smashed that budget with our £125 bill, but really a couple dishes less wouldn't have killed the mood.

Morito

32 Exmouth Market

London EC1R 4QE

(No bookings. We turned up at 7:30pm which was fine - any later and it was packed)

Malaysian Deli

2013-05-13T15:15:00.001+01:00

One of the more vivid memories I have of my time in Malaysia in 2011 was a lunch prepared by my friend's aunty. In preparation for our 23 hour train from Penang to Bangkok, curried prawns in their shells were packed into plastic tubs along with rice, a boiled egg and some vegetables. Hot at 7am when we set off, it preyed on my mind that the rice was cooling, sitting in the Malaysian warmth for a few hours before it would be eaten. Some would call that dangerous - see bacillus cereus - but no one else seemed fussed. I threw caution to the wind and, some hours later, wolfed down my incredibly delicious lunch. No doom befell me.

I bring this rather gnarly story up as the food at Malaysia Deli, a new place in Crofton Park, reminded me much of the lunchbox Aunty packed up for me in its composition. For only a fiver, you get a box of rice with a meat or fish, some vegetables and whichever sauce you choose. I uhm'd and aah'd over each one, asking the nice lady behind the counter which was which while she patiently explained the choices. I finally settled on salmon with sambal sauce; when asked if I wanted it heated up, I elected not to. Hot rice was layered into the box, two crisp salmon pieces next and that fiery sauce. On the cycle home, the hot rice heated up everything else in there, making my lunch perfectly warmed and ready to eat.

It doesn't look like much (I went over a few speed bumps...) but it was lovely - tender salmon, crunchy beans and perfectly cooked rice. But HOLY MOTHER that sambal. I wish they'd sell it as a jarred sauce. Sweet and spicy, I started off feeling a tingle of heat; by the end of my lunch I was sucking air through my teeth while my housemate laughed at me. Worth it, and I'd do it again. Though I might try the percik next time - described as a mild, sweet, tangy coconut sauce.

Cute and colourful inside, they sell ingredients as well as meals. They have a few tables and open 12pm - 8pm Tuesday - Saturday, 12pm - 6pm on Sundays; I'm looking forward to revisiting, especially for the nasi ulam, a dish I haven't come across before.

Malaysian Deli

338 Brockley Road, London SE4 2BT

Grilled Salmon Head

2013-04-30T19:25:00.001+01:00

Admittedly a fish head isn't exactly top of many people's lists of tasty things to eat but actually, once you can get past eating something that's watching you, you'll be richly rewarded. Cheap too, as if you ask your fishmonger nicely for it, they'll probably give it to you for free.

I've made fish head curries with white fish like hake before, but with a salmon head I prefer to grill them until the skin is crisp and the meat around the collar has rendered some of its rich fat. Some make soup out of it, but I find it too strong a fish to slurp on its broth. I went down a Japanese route instead.

Marinated in a bit of soy and stuffed with slices of lemon, hacking the head in half to cook more evenly was tough and gruesome work. Once done though, it is rubbed with a little oil and grilled on a medium heat. Get stuck right in there with some pointy chopsticks and ferret out the meat; the most flavoursome and juicy bit is the cheek, just under the eye socket. Dipped in a ponzu sauce (that's soy with yuzu juice), I ate it with some rice and nasu denaku (miso aubergines). I jazzed up the rice by scattering over some enoki mushrooms once the rice had cooked and was steaming quietly; topped with ikura for a little decadence and some shredded shiso leaves for fragrance, it's not strictly necessary. A little spring onion garnish will do.

Grilled Salmon Head

Serves 2 with vegetables

1 salmon head (ask your fishmonger to split it in half)
3 tbsp light soy
3 slices of lemon
2 tbsp ponzu for dipping (or use soy sauce with a little lemon juice and zest)

Wash the head thoroughly and rub with the soy sauce and stuff the lemon in any crevices. Leave for half an hour.

Preheat the grill to medium and rub a little oil on the skin of the salmon. Grill for 15 to 20 mins, until the skin is crisp, the eyes are white and the flesh cooked through.

Serve with steamed rice, spring onion garnish, and the dipping sauce.

Bright Courtyard, Baker Street

2013-04-28T22:14:00.000+01:00

Siu Long Bao - soup dumplings

The dim sum restaurants on Baker Street are often said to be the best in London - Royal China Club (or is that Royal China?) are held in high regard. If I'm honest it is laziness that's prevented me from getting there; similarly, it's awfully close to where I work and no one wants to be going anywhere near that at the weekend.

But Mr Noodles is a man in the know, and when he says a dim sum place is worth visiting, well, it's time to make the effort. Bright Courtyard was startlingly posh and I made every effort to hide my scuffed trainers from view. The room is hushed but bright, monotones and clean lines, pretty flowers decorating lazy susans. Serving staff are well turned out in suits and - gasp - very cordial. The a la carte menu is on an iPad, but we were there for the dim sum alone.

There's no paper tick box here, and the dumplings are translated to English; siu mai and har gao aren't immediately obvious to spot. We snacked on complimentary spicy cucumber, reminiscent of the smacked type you get from Sichuan restaurants, as well as edamame. Once we'd ordered, the dim sum came thick and fast and before long our table was packed with dishes. Perhaps a little too much so; I like to take my time and make my way round as they come without fear of things going cold.

Prawn & Mango Dumplings

Siu long bao (top photo), those sought-after soup-filled dumplings, held their broth well but the filling could have been more flavoursome. Prawn and mango dumplings were a bit left-field, at least in my experience; bouncy prawn meat held mango sauce inside (photo), to be supplemented with additional mango sauce. I enjoyed the the fruit and seafood combination. Others found it too weird.

Hong Kong Cheung Fun

Cheung fun with cuttlefish

Hong Kong cheung fun was plain rice rolls dressed in peanut sauce and hoi sin. Cheung fun also came wrapped around beancurd skin that incased cuttlefish - this was one of my favourites. Obviously someone knows what they're doing in the rice roll department as these were both very well made. The silky noodles were fine and delicate, without any stickiness or stodge. The mixture of soft and slippery textures with crunchy beancurd sheet and springy cuttlefish was very pleasing indeed.

Chilean Sea Bass in Sichuan Sauce

Chilean sea bass with Sichuan sauce was one of the pricier dishes at £5.90. The fish is thinly sliced and lightly fried, wrapped around sticks of cucumber and vermicelli noodles and then bathed in a spicy, numbing sauce. Lovely balanced flavours - slightly sour, salty, spicy and a tingle on the tongue.

Pork & Preserved Egg Congee

Pork and preserved egg congee was delicate, the rice grains just broken into the light broth. Served with some chopped up fried dough stick, these were added at the table with spring onions before our waiter served us all individually. Heavy on ginger flavour, a little soy sauce was needed to pep it up a bit, but otherwise soothing and tasty.

A few venison puffs and siu mai later, we decided we needed noodles and vegetables to finish us off.

Crab Meat E Fu Noodles

Crab meat E Fu noodles tasted way better than they looked - again, our server persisted in serving us all individually which I suppose means there's no fighting over the few prawns that were lurking in there. Elastic noodles were deeply savoury; there was no discernable crab meat there, but a definite seafood flavour. Lots of enoki mushrooms and crunchy vegetables, this was well worth the £11.50 price tag.

You wouldn't have thought a plate of vegetables would be very exciting but this gai laan (Chinese broccoli) with ginger was amazing in the fact that they bothered to peel the stalks of the gai laan, making the eating of them immeasurably better. My teeth cut through them cleanly without any stringiness or toughness, especially when cooked just right as these were. Cubes of deep fried ginger weren't especially pleasant to chew on but perfumed the dish nicely.

We browsed the dessert menu, more lengthy than other dim sum restaurants but were unfortunately priced out of our decisions as most were around the £6 - £7 area. Not uncommon for a restaurant dessert, but more than we're used to at our other haunts. I was glad we'd ordered the custard buns from the dim sum menu, eaten in between savoury bites, dipped in condensed milk.

I was quite the fan of Bright Courtyard. The service is quite formal but it is friendly and pleasant, the food well executed with a hint of something a bit different. They obviously have good attention to detail, demonstrated by the vegetable dish, and I liked the accessibility of it - an extensive tea menu in English isn't something you get at my local, Dragon Castle. It's on the more expensive spectrum - we paid £27 a head without booze but including service - but in the grand scheme of things, it's not really that much at all considering the delicacy of the things we ordered. Having had a browse of the iPad a la carte, it seems their speciality lies in Shanghainese food; judging by the prices it's one for pay day...

Bright Courtyard

37-67 Baker St,
London W1U 7EU

Tel: 020 7486 6998

Hot & Sour Tofu

2013-04-25T14:37:00.004+01:00

There aren't may British people I know that like tofu. Complaints that it doesn't taste of anything are then reinforced with a texture problem which in turn is ballasted with the hippy-dippy-health-food-barefoot-vegan-meat-replacement notion.

Well, you're all wrong.

Tofu has a delicate flavour, but that flavour's definitely there and besides what's the beef with flavour anyway when you usually put it with something nice and punchy? As for the texture, if you don't like the wobbly, delicate jelly-like feeling of soft tofu, there's nothing I can do about that except feel sad for you. Or suggest you chow down on deep fried tofu puffs - you can stuff them or braise them and both ways they are lovely.

Once you get over the wibble fear, you should make this. The sauce that drenches the warm tofu is addictive and spicy, slightly sour, quite salty and a little sweet. A hint of Sichuan peppercorn makes the tongue tingle, while the crunch of preserved vegetable and spring onions is a nice contrast to the smooth and silken tofu. A dish of stir-fried greens and another of stir-fried chicken completed the meal nicely, though I found myself abandoning the latter dishes and smooshing the tofu and sauce into my rice alone.

Hot & Sour Tofu

Serves 4 with other dishes

1 box of silken soft (not extra soft) tofu
1 tsp dark soy
1 tsp Chinkiang black vinegar
1 tsp caster sugar
2 tbsp light soy
1.5 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp water
2 cloves of garlic, minced
3 tbsp chilli oil (2 of the oil, 1 with sediment)
1 tbsp cooking oil
1 spring onion
2 tsp Tianjin preserved vegetable, rinsed well
1/2 tsp Sichuan peppercorns, toasted and ground into powder
A small handful of coriander

Drain the tofu and place it carefully on a plate. Steam for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, roughly chop the coriander and slice the spring onions and leave to one side. Heat the cooking oil and fry the garlic on a low heat, taking care not to burn it. Drain the garlic and place in a bowl. Mix in the soy sauces with the vinegar, sugar, chilli oil and oyster sauce with a tsp of water. Mix well and pour carefully over the freshly steamed tofu. Garnish with the preserved vegetable, Sichuan peppercorn, spring onions and coriander and serve with rice while warm.

Spicy Seafood Ramen

2013-04-22T21:04:00.000+01:00

I've always been obsessed with noodle soups. My noodle of choice is that wide flat noodle, hor fun - soft and slippery, filling and comforting. My heart has been stolen recently by another though. Ramen noodles, now so trendy in London at least, so elastic and thin. Emma of Tonkotsu gifted me a bundle of fresh ramen noodles, made in-house by their beast of a noodle machine. I knew I had to rustle up something special to make the most of them.

I didn't have time to be simmering tons of pork bones long enough to make a tonkotsu. I decided instead on a seafood ramen, a spicy one at that to blow out the cold I had picked up.

I'm lucky enough to live near an excellent fishmonger; their raw shell-on prawns have heads that give you a vividly orange and intensely prawn-flavoured, sweet stock. They threw in a sea bass head and carcass for free after I asked for one; if you do the same, don't use oily fish for this - white fish only. A piece of kombu seaweed went in as well, to really deepen that flavour of the sea. Once strained, garlic was softened in a little oil and then gochujang, that sweet fermented Korean chilli paste, to flavour the broth. A handful of Korean chilli flakes, famous for their colour but mild heat, went in too.

And then it's really just quick cooking and assembly. Mussels, cleaned and debearded slip into the broth - just as they're about to open, some raw prawns. Warmed bowls are filled with freshly cooked noodles, vegetables placed carefully on top. A couple squares of nori followed, then ladles of hot stock and seafood. To finish, fish skin crisps - yup, crisps made of fish skin - carefully placed so that they're half in the broth and half out. That half crispiness, half floppiness is one of my favourite texture contrasts. It was a comforting bowl, spicy but deep in flavour. Inspired by Bone Daddies' seafood kimchi special, some kimchi would have gone in had I had any but actually the broth benefitted from being subtle and spicy without the fermented cabbage tang. I wish I had been bothered enough to make nitamago (that gooey, marinated egg) to nestle on top.

I won't lie. All these ingredients are pretty specialist, but you'll find them in Oriental supermarkets or online.

Spicy Seafood Ramen

Serves 4

4 bundles of ramen noodles (or use fresh wonton noodles from the supermarket)
4 raw prawns, head and shell on
1 fish carcass, like a sea bass or hake head
1 large handful of mussels, cleaned and debearded
3 coin-like slices of ginger
400ml chicken stock
1 square of kombu seaweed
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 heaped tbsp gochujang
1 handful of Korean coarse chilli flakes
1 handful of beansprouts, blanched
1/2 tsp salt
A small handful of mizuna or rocket, roughly chopped
2 leaves of Chinese cabbage, roughly chopped
2 sheets of nori, quartered
1 spring onion, julienned
A bag of fish crisps (optional)

Simmer the chicken stock with the kombu, ginger, prawn heads and shells, salt and the fish carcass for 45 mins. Strain through a fine sieve.

Fry the minced garlic in a little oil, then add the gochujang. Fry until fragrant. Add a little of the stock to the pan and mix well so that there are no lumps. Add the rest of the stock. Add the mussels for a couple of minutes, then the prawns. As soon as the prawns have turned pink, sieve the stock into another pan, reserving the mussels and prawns.

Cook the noodles for 35 secs or so, until tender. Drain and add to the bowls. Meanwhile, bring the stock up to the boil and add the Chinese cabbage. Arrange the mussels, prawns, beansprouts, and nori neatly in the bowl. Ladle the broth evenly over the noodles. Garnish with fish crisps, rocket / mizuna and the spring onions, then serve immediately, with chilli oil for everyone to add in themselves.

Pick n' Mix: Part 3

2013-04-15T21:41:00.000+01:00

3-Cup Frogs Legs

Bao London has, as yet, no permanent home but they've been appearing all around the place. Serving Taiwanese snacks, I first came across them when I went to a dodgy old pub in Dalston. There, we ate the best pork buns I've come across (better than Momofuku's, even). Braised pork belly is shredded and stuffed into a soft bun, garnished with pickled vegetables, coriander and crushed peanuts. The second time round at Pacific Social, they even had their own holders. 3 cup frogs legs are inspired by a traditional Taiwanese dish, the three cups being soy sauce, sesame oil and rice wine. These ones (above) had the lightest, crisp batter and an intense sweet and savoury sauce.

Pork Bun

Someone is obviously very good at frying as the soy milk fried chicken was light and greaseless. A salad of pomelo and other crispy bits was a good palate-cleanser and kept the scurvy at bay. They will be at the Gherkin on the 25th (lunchtime) and King's Cross on the 26th, with Kerb. Keep an eye on their twitter stream for other pop-ups: @bao_london

Tozino jamon

It was hammering it down with rain the first time I ducked into Bar Tozino on Maltby Street market. Looking something like an abattoir, huge hams hang from the ceiling, slightly swaying and the wood-heavy room is lit with red bulbs. Hams down one end are set up to carve from, and a black board lists their price. We spent a very enjoyable half hour slurping on sherry and gulping down expertly sliced Iberico jamon with a couple pieces of pan con tomate for good measure.

Bar Tozino, Lassco Ropewalk, Maltby Street, London SE1 3PA. (Cash only)

Chicken kara-age burger

I was invited down to Tonkotsu on Dean Street to try out the new chicken kara-age burger. These are currently only served at sister restaurants Tsuru Sushi (Bishopsgate, SE1 and Mansion House - see link for address details) and are priced at £4.95. Sweet, sesame seeded brioche buns encase juicy fried chicken thigh meat. The meat has been marinaded in something magic as it is so flavoursome. Some lettuce and a smear or three of mayo complete the burger, but I strongly suggest you add some of Tsuru's famous 'eat the bits' chilli oil. Fairly mild as chilli oils go but so tasty nonetheless.

Soho Ramen

If you can't get to a Tsuru in your lunch break then Tonkotsu's Soho Ramen is pretty sexy too. This is a clear chicken and pork broth, served with a marinated egg and a gorgeous lightly smoked piece of haddock, topped with a little lumpfish caviar in a bed of properly springy, home-made ramen noodles. The above was a baby bowl (I had just eaten a burger...) - full size is £11.

Tonkotsu, 63 Dean Street, London W1D 4QG (no reservations)

Gizzi's Cottage Pie

I went to Gizzi Erskine's dinner at The Drapers Arms last week. A huge dinner for 60-odd people, Gizzi cooked recipes from her new cookbook, Skinny Weeks and Weekend Feasts. Happily it was the latter side she was cooking from. Looking completely unflustered despite cooking for so many (and served all at the same time!) we were treated to salmon tartare with chilli and rocket, amazing beetroot-pink devilled eggs, roasted chicken with truffled gnocchi and this cottage pie with bone marrow chimneys. Rich and indulgent, had I not stuffed myself so silly on the starters I'd have stolen the whole lot. We all got a copy of the book to take home with us and I immediately got stuck into making the tuna tartare on crispy rice recipe.

Tuna tartare on crispy rice

It's a terrible picture - my housemates were not keen on waiting - but it basically consists of sashimi-grade tuna minced up with spring onions, mayonnaise, sriracha (a Thai garlicky chilli sauce) and sesame oil, left to marinate for an hour. You cook up some seasoned sushi rice and leave it to cool, then pack into blocks with oiled hands and fry in butter until browned. You're left with crispy rice blocks that you pile the tuna on top of (once cooled a bit). I went left-field and additionally topped it with ikura as I bloody love ikura. Crispy rice is a beautiful revelation. The book is really great - you can buy it here.

Eating in Istanbul

2013-04-04T22:54:00.000+01:00

We made the most of the Easter break by spending 5 days in Istanbul. Over recent years it has slowly climbed up my 'must visit' places list; more and more people have come back raving about the food. Apparently there's also some nice stuff to see. I made a spreadsheet to make sure we weren't left stranded with nowhere recommended to eat; call me a control freak, but I wasn't taking any chances. I was armed with an overwhelming list.

We did pretty well.

Breakfast on our first day was a short walk away from our Air B n B apartment, in Beyoglu. Van Kahavaltı Evi was busy by 10am and we nabbed their last table. They're famed for their breakfast spreads, and we pointed at the most lavish-looking, at 20 lira a head. Dishes started coming out thick and fast and soon there wasn't much table to be seen. Sweet nut pastes, Nutella and jams sat side by side with boiled eggs, a muhammara-like dip, cheese and a huge plate of tomatoes and cucumbers. Olives were plentiful, as was the bread and the discovery of the trip was made here; kaymak with honey. Kaymak is like clotted cream, made with buffalo milk and it was absolutely glorious with a big glob of comb-flecked honey spread thickly onto bread. We ate and ate and ate, drinking never-ending tea until we couldn't eat anymore.

Van Kahavaltı Evi, Defterdar Yokuşu No: 52.A, Cihangir

Once we were bitten by the kaymak bug, we had to have more. We headed to Beşiktaş in search of Beşiktaş Kaymaci but it was not to be found. A man sipping tea watched us bemusedly as we wandered past him several times, our noses to our phone maps and he led us to our destination, confusingly named Pando. A tiny place, run by an elderly husband and wife team, our hearts were stolen by them as they toddled about the place serving customers and brushing breadcrumbs off each other.

A plate of kaymak and honey with bread will set you back only 4 Lira (around £1.50). The honey was sweeter and more familiar compared to the pine-scented one we'd had previously. We went through two bread baskets slathering it on in satisfied silence.

We couldn't stop at just this, and a plate of cheese, tomato and cucumbers fortified our breakfast, along with a dish of buttery baked eggs with spicy Turkish sausage. If I could breakfast like this every day I'd be a happy (morbidly obese) woman.

Pando Kaymak, Koyici Meydani Sokak, Sinanpaşa Mahallesi, Beşiktaş

Menemen is a classic Turkish dish, one often had for breakfast so we had to get stuck in. Lades means 'wishbone' in Turkish and they're famous for their puddings made with chicken breast, but we were there to get some spicy eggs in us. Served in a swelteringly hot pan, eggs are scrambled with tomatoes, mild green chillis and spices, along with the sucuk (that Turkish sausage again) option that we went for. Huge baguette-like loaves soaked it all up and we may have followed this with some more kaymak.

Lades, Sadri Alışık Sokak 14, Beyoğlu

We spent a full day over in Sultanahmet doing all the touristy things like Hagia Sophia and the Basilica Cisterns. Don't be fooled by how nice Topkapi Palace (above) looked, for it was pure hell; roughly a million children were inside, and queues to see anything worth seeing were in abundance. Feeling thoroughly frazzled, we headed for sustenance in the tourist centre of Istanbul. The difficulty, much like finding something decent to eat in Leicester Square, faced us but the spreadsheet saved the day.

Tarihi Sultanahmet Koftecisi is a straightforward kind of place. The smell of an open charcoal grill makes your mouth water when you enter, and we were led to a table upstairs. A menu was proffered with only two options; kofte, or lamb shish. Surprisingly (to me, anyway), the kofte were made with beef. Dense and slightly bouncy, they were well flavoured from the charcoal grill. The chilli sauce was not particularly spicy but totally addictive and the salads, dressed simply with lemon juice and olive oil, set us up for a light lunch nicely. In an area where men outside restaurants call out to you to entice you in, this place was a solid haven of calm.

Tarihi Sultanahmet Koftecisi, Divanyolu Caddesi 12, Sultanahmet

The sun came out and we spent a balmy day on ferries going up and down the Bosphorous, our sun-deprived faces slowly glowing red. We snacked on fish sandwiches at Eminonu; at 5 Lira they were quite the bargain. Barbecued mackerel fillets are stuffed into bread, while young boys hawk cups of pickles to accompany them. Rather alarmingly people all around us were sipping the pickle juice, so we gave it a go. That stuff is SALTY. I'm not sure how they manage it really.

After our 6th glass of tea in Karakoy we decided on a little lunch. Tables were set out by the water, seagulls squawking overhead.

I'm not sure there is a more blissful time to be had than eating freshly grilled seafood in the sunshine by the water. A glass of white wine would have completed the scene but we bravely soldiered on with water. The four of us ate handsomely for 85 Lira - less than £10 a head. We liked our waiter being straight with us - "this, this and this - all frozen" he said, jabbing at the pictures on the menu. "This. This is fresh and caught here. This? Caught in the Aegean." Decisions easily made.

Under the Galata Bridge with the fish market on your right, walk to the end of the market and it's the last place serving food with tables and chairs by the water.

Feeling a little over-fed - I know, imagine - we stuck to a simple lunch for one of our days. Fasuli is certainly not fancy but they are well known for their signature bean dish. Fat white beans are cooked in a tomato sauce with the barest hint of meat, and these were the most wonderful, comforting baked beans. And rice! Delicious buttery rice. I was a bit breaded out by this point, having had it 3 times a day. We observed a lone man next to us demolish a dish of beans, to then be served another dish of rice and beans. Down the hatch in less than 15 minutes.

Fasuli (various branches but we went to this one), Muradiye Cd No:35, Fatih

And so onto dinners. Are you still with me?

On the night we arrived it absolutely pissed it down, much to our dismay. Rivers of water flowed down the streets as we tried to navigate, shivering and hungry, ever-so-slightly cranky. To be honest if I'd been the owner of a restaurant and us four bedraggleds had wandered in sopping, I might have turned us away too but Asmali Cavit was probably genuinely fully booked. So we made a reservation for the night after.

We decided to try out some raki with our mezze. Drunk long, the water making it milky and cloudy in appearance, it's aniseed flavour was, uhm, not to my taste (AWFUL) but I managed to force it down. For somewhere that was recommended from several different sources, it was actually my least favourite of the meals we had. Everything was fine, but nothing more than fine. Grilled anchovies (above) were pretty delicious, but for the amount we paid (which really was only £20 a head) and the effort we went to to eat there, I left feeling a bit deflated.

Asmali Cavit, Asmalımescit Caddesi 16/D, Beyoğlu

By contrast, my favourite meal was at Zubeyir Ocakbasi. A big charcoal pit fills the room on the ground floor with seats around it and when we went in I strode towards it excitedly, only to be asked by the manager rather worriedly whether we had a reservation. We put on our best "please feed me" puppy dog eyes and were led to a table, promising we'd return it 90 minutes later.

Like everywhere else that offered mezze, a trolley was wheeled out for us to pick what we would like. I looked dubious when my friend picked the pumpkin and chickpea dip but it was excellent; like a sweeter humus. An aubergine dip was served warm and was pure smoky deliciousness - instead of being mashed into a smooth dip like some baba ganoush I've had, this was chopped into scoopable chunks. Our waiter insisted on my friend tasting the ezme salad (chopped very finely) which was a winning tactic, as it sealed the deal. Spicy and dressed liberally with pomegranate molasses, it was the best of its kind we'd had.

Of the mains, 'Special cut lamb chops' had the bone attached but the meat unravelled like a ribbon. Lamb ribs had been grilled so that the fat was crispy but not too rich, the meat underneath tender, and chicken wings were crispy and generous. Considering we'd had a lahmucun 'snack' which was basically another meal an hour previously, we hoofed everything up with ease. We paid about £10 a head without booze to retire to our apartment to roll around with bloated stomachs, groaning. The lahmacun had snuck up on us.

Of the more casual dining places, Hayvore is well known for serving Black Sea specialities. The restaurant is lit brightly and all the dishes are displayed in a glass cabinet at the front of the restaurant. Once seated, we were invited to go and choose what we wanted. The hamsi pilav (above) was recommended and it was certainly unusual; underneath the anchovies is spiced rice flavoured with dill and with sweet currants lurking within. I loved the sweet savoury aspect; the other half of the table did not. Dolmades (top) were filled with minced meat instead of the usual rice, and again a roasted aubergine dish was tops. They also served beans and it's quite possible that these were better than Fasuli's - richer, more buttery and I could have been happy with these alone. We ordered some pides which were pure overkill.

Hayvore, Turnacibasi Sokak 4, Beyoglu

Of course, one can't leave Turkey without sampling the doner kebab. Much abused over here, our 'elephant legs' shaved off into a pitta to be devoured after a night's boozing is nothing like what we had in Istanbul. Kasap Osman is reportedly one of the best, though you wouldn't know it to look at it. The street it is on is full of kebab places, each one (including this) with people touting for you to eat with them.

You can order your doner meat by weight and we found 150gr each to be quite sufficient as we also had salads, dishes of beans (yes, another addiction) and dips. The meat was expertly sliced, some crispy, some soft. It had none of that gaminess you can sometimes get from doners in the UK - instead it was slightly fatty, tender and flavoursome. Why it's served with 4 flaccid chips I don't know. The waiting staff were very sweet, gifting us cacik (a yoghurt, mint and cucumber dip) as well as baked milk and rice pudding desserts topped with pistachios that almost tipped us over the edge. As the call to prayer sang out across the city, we were sitting outside and managed to get a sly glimpse in the mosque opposite of young men gathering with their Imam.

Kasap Osman, Hocapaşa Sokak 22, Sirkeci

Other snacks we had were, as previously mentioned, lahmacun. Almost a meal itself and absurdly cheap:

We got pretty into our Börek;

This Su böreği (water Börek) was described to us as 'macaroni cheese!'. Ordered by weight, sheets of dough are boiled and layered with feta cheese to make a warm, comforting snack.

I'm not sure what type of Börek this was, but it was crispy and soft layers of pastry, slightly salty, that came with a sachet of icing sugar to dust over it. With a strong glass of tea it was a balanced breakfast. Yup.

I loved Istanbul. I don't feel like I've even scratched the surface of it; we didn't spend much time on the Asia side, for example, which is all the more reason to go back.

Some tips:

- Buying an Istanbulkart (much like a pay-as-you-go Oyster) was invaluable - you can buy one and share it in a group (provided you're travelling together, of course) and it's accepted on almost all transport aside from a couple of ferries. We got pretty familiar with the transport system and only had to get a taxi once.

- Don't get into taxis unless they put their meter on, or they'll try and rip you off

- Booze prices vary wildly. We stayed in the Beyoglu area and some bars charged 12 lira for a small bottle of beer, while others charged 7 for a pint.

- Unless you have a strong constitution, Asmalimescit Caddesi is totally mental on a Friday or Saturday night. Scarily crowded.

The link to my geeky spreadsheet is HERE. It is ordered by area, and I've highlighted in bold the places we visited.

With thanks to Eating Asia, Katie Parla and Istanbul Eats for being wonderful resources.

Pick n' Mix: Part 2

2013-03-25T16:00:00.001Z

This week's pick n' mix edition is a combination of old favourites, new discoveries and ones to watch.

Silk Road

Silk Road is probably my most frequented restaurant, with my first visit being way back in March 2010. Since then birthdays have been celebrated birthdays there, I've had girly catch-ups and reunion dinners and even a date (though going with more people is recommended - those dishes, they big). The old favourites are still as amazing as ever - home-style aubergine and home-style cabbage will always perplex me as to how they could be so tasty. Cucumbers in hot sauce, lamb skewers and fried dumplings are staples, and more recently we've branched out to other noodle dishes, most notably the one pictured; Xinjiang fried noodles with lamb. I've never spent more than £20 there - I've never left anything less than stuffed.

49 Camberwell Church Street, London SE5 8TR

Ambriento

Staying local, Ambriento is a taco truck on North Cross road's Saturday market in East Dulwich. More Global-Mex than strictly traditional, they don't churn their tacos out quickly but the tequila-battered fish taco I had, garnished with julienned vegetables and hot salsas was brilliant. £5.50 for two makes a light meal or a good snack.

Taqueria

More traditional tacos are to be found on the other side of town at Taqueria in Westbourne Grove. The tacos were just like the ones I had in Mexico City (though several times the price). A busy little place, the staff were super-friendly and indulged our request for an off-menu mezcal margarita. Tacos al pastor (pictured) contained lovely spiced pork and barbecued pineapple and were the pick of an excellent bunch.

139-143 Westbourne Grove, London W11 2RS

Pitt Cue Co.

Is there any mashed potato finer than Pitt Cue Co.'s bone marrow mash? Admittedly not the most attractive of names if you're a touch squeamish but the hint of garlic and rich, meaty sauce that encircles the mound of mash makes this one of their finest sides. I lamented the loss of the burnt ends mash, but this is a more than ample replacement.

1 Newburgh St London W1F 7RB

Check On is a new venture from George Craig and (ex-Hix) Terry Edwards; they previously did a 2 night pop-up, Northern Invasion and are now doing Sunday lunches at The Endurance in the form of 'Hen Party'. Celebrating all things chicken, I was invited to the first one and the 4 course menu is a fun play on the bird - 'tea and dumplings' is a consomme served from a teapot, while the main event is a deboned chicken, stuffed and roasted. Served on a board to carve yourself, there are no fiddly bones to deal with, and skinny truffle chips to dip into the gravy. I'd recommend snagging the leg bit just above the gnarly claw as it was ridiculously tasty; and the dessert was a clever and delicious play on egg and soldiers. There are still tickets for their 28th April date and they're also on Twitter, for all upcoming events.

Pick n' Mix: Part 1

2013-03-19T17:44:00.000Z

I've been finding recently that I'm less motivated to update this poor little blog of mine, particularly in regards to restaurants. I suppose it has much to do with the pressure I put on myself in writing about them and a lot of the time I just want to recommend somewhere and direct you there, without all the guff of everything else that fills an entire blog post about it. So I'm trying something new; it might happen weekly, it might happen fortnightly, I guess it depends how often I eat out. There's no theme here, hence 'Pick n' Mix'; just places I went to and I liked. Unless I really didn't like it, and then you'll know about it.

Quality Chop House

This place has been slowly gathering momentum, and after a few stonking reviews from proper restaurant critics I suspect getting a table might be pretty tricky soon. Separated into two areas, the bookable main dining room operates a set 4 course menu for £35 while the no-reservations wine bar has a daily-changing menu to choose from. Sea urchin (pictured) were unadulterated, while lamb ribs cooked in mint sauce were crispy, tender and ridiculously addictive. You can rack up a fair old bill in the bar but apparently the wines are very interesting, says those in the know. We drank a very nice Albarino. I think.

94 Farringdon Rd, London EC1R 3EA

Little Social

I was invited to the preview evening of Jason Atherton's new place, Little Social which is now open proper. He's a busy man this year what with opening up this Parisian-style bistro, as well as the larger Social Eating House later this year in Soho. Oysters from Fowey to start were briny and plump, though my date's slow-cooked egg with butternut squash and parmesan soup overshadowed them, as any slow-cooked egg would do. A cote de boeuf was a beast, served on a wooden board to share - well marbled, well charred and well seasoned, the meat was served with decent peppercorn and bearnaise sauces. Buzzy and bustling, the place will do well - at £15 for steak & frites, it's affordable Atherton cooking.

5 Pollen Street, Mayfair, London, W1S 1ND

The Drapers Arms

I've written about The Drapers Arms a couple of times before, but mainly in a 'special event' sort of way. I've visited 3 times since Christmas now (which, given it's in North London, is actually pretty frequent for me) and it's quickly become a favourite. Definitely on the gastro side of the pub spectrum, I've had one-on-one's (beautiful and generous poussin dish), girls' night at Valentine's (an enormous steak), and, most recently, a ridiculously delicious veal lasagne (pictured) at leaving drinks. Truly a pub for every occasion.

44 Barnsbury St. London, N1 1ER

Fino's 10th Birthday

I'll admit that I've never visited Fino, but after their 10th birthday lunch they are firmly on my radar. Crab empinadas, braised ox tongue, pigs tails slow cooked with prawns, the above carabineros (red prawns) and the rest of the menu we were treated to were a masterclass in skillful Spanish cookery and careful ingredient sourcing.

33 Charlotte St, London W1T 1RR

Roti King, Charing Cross Road

2013-03-13T16:39:00.000Z

Anyone who's been to Malaysia might balk at the £5.50 price tag, but the roti canai at Roti King is really freaking good. Located on the shabby part of Charing Cross Road, Roti King is actually inside Malaysia Kopi Tiam; the roti chef stands at his own counter at the front, turning and slapping the dough to order.

An alarming / delicious amount of oil goes down on the counter and the dough is formed. The chef then spins it in the air, slapping it down to get that flaky thinness. Meanwhile, a bowl of curry (lamb, chicken, dhal or fish) is popped into the microwave while the roti cooks.

What you get is two rounds of lovely flaky bread to dip in a spicy, fragrant bowl of curry. Two large pieces of chicken on the bone are juicy and flavoursome. A hot mug of teh tarik, sweet and milky soothes the spices of the curry.

On the menu there's also murtabak, which is the roti cooked with a filling, wrapped up like a parcel. There are various sweet options if that's your thing too. We also tried a Penang Char Kway Teow on the main menu which while nice enough, wasn't up to much. I'd stick to the rotis.

Roti King, inside Malaysian Kopi Tiam

67 Charing Cross Road,

London WC2H 0NE

Steak & Blue Cheese Salad

2013-03-11T16:19:00.001Z

When I have people round for dinner, I have terrible trouble thinking of things to make which don't involve at least a substantial piece of meat and some fixings. You'd think I would have learnt from my vegan month, but thoughts always stray to something roasted or braised. More often than not, it will be a fairly lengthy recipe to take time over, and there just seems to be more of a sense of celebration in these dishes.

This kind of meal assumes you have the time to spend over such things though. I recently had friends over for dinner after work and rather than make them wait until the early hours while my centrepiece cooked, this steak salad was pretty much perfect; quick to make and decadent enough to feel like a treat. Faces fell somewhat when I announced that we were having salad, but they soon perked up when the steak was sliced into it and the blue cheese crumbled over it. Salad at our house is rarely the healthy sort. I'll admit I wouldn't win any prizes on presentation, though.

It seems rather wrong to be eating salad in this weather, but served warm and with a mountain of oven chips, it didn't really need to be Summer.

Steak & Blue Cheese Salad

Serves 4

500gr rump steak at room temperature
70gr blue cheese, at room temperature
A handful of cherry tomatoes
1 red and 1 yellow pepper, roasted and skins removed (or use jarred)
1/2 a red onion
30gr walnuts, toasted and left to cool
1 x bag of mixed strong leaves, like rocket and watercress

For the dressing:

4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp honey
1 tbsp sherry vinegar
2 tbsp wholegrain mustard
1 tbsp creme fraiche or yoghurt (optional, but nice)
A pinch of salt and pepper

Whisk the dressing together and set to one side.

This is basically an assembly job. Heat up a griddle pan or a frying pan until it's really hot - oil the steak, not the pan. Fry until your desired doneness (medium rare, for me). Season generously on both sides and remove to rest on a plate under a tent of foil. Rest for 15 minutes.

In a large bowl, add the leaves and dress with half of the dressing. Use your hands to really get in there and work the dressing onto the leaves. Arrange on a plate, then halve the cherry tomatoes and slice the peppers into stripes. Scatter over the leaves. Slice the red onion into thin half moons, again, scatter.

Slice the steak thinly against the grain. Any juice that remains can be whisked into the remainder of the dressing. Drape the steak over the leaves, give them a little wiggle, and drizzle the rest of the dressing over. Finally, crumble over the blue cheese and serve.

Gold Mine, Bayswater

2013-03-04T13:55:00.000Z

When one thinks of Chinatown in London, you're automatically directed to Gerrard Street just off Leicester Square. Not famed for the high quality of the food, those who know better go to Bayswater instead. I never bothered heading West to this concentrated strip of restaurants until a couple of weeks ago. In a city where more obscure Chinese cuisines are being embraced (Sichuan, Hunanese, Xinjiang), the poor old Cantonese staples, food that I grew up with, have been neglected by me quite heartily.

Gold Mine has a reputation for duck, specifically Cantonese-style roasted duck. I've heard myths of Singaporean students buying them ready vac-packed and flying them back to Singapore with them for their families. You can reserve tables, and we went en masse for a Chinese New Year dinner. It's not big inside and they pack you in, but the staff were friendly and welcoming.

Roast duck comes in various portion sizes, either on the bone or off. I was worried that I'd built this duck up in my head quite substantially; I'd spent a long afternoon thinking about that laquered skin and glistening fat (it was a small lunch day...). I needn't have worried as it was pretty much glorious. 10 pairs of chopsticks came flying in as we tried to stay polite but really, we (I) failed. I preferred meat on the bone - there's just something about chewing around little bones that I enjoy, and it seemed slightly more succulent. The main competitor on the roast duck front is Four Seasons, but having tried that a few days ago I preferred Gold Mine's; the sauce drizzled over it was more savoury, Four Seasons' more sweet, and the meat less flabby than Four Seasons' version.

Steamed egg with century egg and salted egg yolks was eggy heaven. Steamed until it is just set like a custard, this savoury dish is delicately flavoured. Each wobbly spoonful I had a little century egg or salted egg yolk hidden within it, and eaten with some steamed rice, it was comforting and creamy. They also do a prawn and scallop version which I'm keen to try.

Siu yuk (crispy belly pork) was decent, though overshadowed by the duck that had arrived at the same time. Golden sand prawns disappeared in the blink of an eye; the prawns are coated in a salted egg yolk batter and fried, then mixed with chilli and garlic. I'd order a double portion next time. Aubergines with minced pork claypot was strangely flavourless and largely unremarkable, but the Japanese tofu with minced pork (pictured above) was another story. Discs of this soft tofu were fried so that they had a crisp outer coating, and then braised with the pork.

Most of the table weren't keen on the pork spare ribs with bitter melon, which I sort of suspected might happen when I ordered it. Bitter melon is properly bitter, which I like but I've not found many who agree with me. Pea shoots fried with garlic made up the vegetal component, and although cooked a little past the point I'd have liked, they were tasty and fresh enough.

Desserts were classic Cantonese restaurant style; banana and apple fritters I gave a wide berth and instead concentrated on a nice, grease-free fried red bean pancake, bafflingly garnished with parsley.

For roughly £25 a head with beers and service, it was no Michelin-angling HKK, but decent Cantonese food done well. Probably the best roast duck I've had in London too, though I haven't yet done a duck tour. My arteries wouldn't approve.

Gold Mine

102 Bayswater
London W2 3RR

Tel: 020 7792 8331

Stir-Fried Pork & Chayote Noodles

2013-02-26T18:09:00.003Z

Every single time I walk into a Chinese supermarket, I spend way too much time picking things up, looking at them, and then putting them back again. 40% of the time they end up in my basket instead, with a promise to myself that I'll find out what it is when I get home and use it then. This may well be the reason my kitchen cupboards are full to bursting with unidentifiable objects and my housemates don't even open those particular ones anymore, through fear of the Cupboard Avalanche.

Occasionally though, I'll pick up a Perishable Item which forces me into action. I'll admit it; I picked this one up because it looked like a bum.

Chow chow has many other names, like cho cho and chayote. Used across both Caribbean and Chinese cuisines, soups and stir fried dishes seemed most popular. I stuck with what I was most familiar with and went down the Chinese route.

I used up bits and bobs from my collection of dried weird things in the cupboard, and coupled it odds and ends from the fridge, which this dish is perfect for. The chayote (which is what I'm calling it from now on) is much like a cucumber though less watery; it retains its crunch even when stir-fried, and adds a bright subtle freshness the dish. Minced pork belly fried until brown and crisp make the flavour base, with each individual vegetable braising together to meld their flavours and textures together.

With this dish its important to cut all your vegetables up into matchsticks so that the dish chews nicely. I know it sounds weird but if you chopped your carrots into lumps and the black fungus into big sheets it just doesn't work as well. Besides, I find the chopping therapeutic.

You may find the list below a bit daunting but you can find it all at Oriental supermarkets and you can similarly stuff your cupboards silly.

Stir Fried Pork & Chayote Noodles

Serves 4 with sides - rice and stir fried vegetables, for example

1 chayote, peeled and julienned

2 carrots, julienned

1 celery stick, julienned

(Whatever vegetables you have, chopped julienne; courgette and cabbage would be good, perhaps peppers too)

4 dried shiitake mushrooms

A small handful of dried black fungus - or wood ear mushroom, which you can buy dried and already julienned

4 sticks of tofu bamboo or tofu knots

70gr dried of glass noodles

50gr pork belly

1 tbsp dried prawns

2 cloves of garlic minced

1 inch of ginger minced

1 tbsp soy sauce

2 tbsp oyster sauce

2 tbsp water

2 spring onions to garnish (I ran out and had to use red onion, as you may see...)

Boil some water and soak the mushrooms, black / wood ear fungus and tofu sticks in a bowl for 15 minutes. Soak the glass noodles in boiling water for 15 minutes too.

Meanwhile, mince your pork belly and julienne your vegetables. Heat 3 tbsp oil in a wok and fry the pork belly on a high heat, stirring. You want it properly brown and crispy. Remove to a plate. Heat the wok up to a medium heat, and ensuring there's enough oil, fry the garlic and ginger. Fish out the dried prawns and add these in, stir frying until fragrant.

Add your vegetables incrementally as to how quickly they take to cook - so I went tofu sticks, celery, carrots, then black fungus, shiitake mushrooms and then add the soy sauce, oyster sauce and the water. Cook for a few minutes, then add the chayote. Through the noodles in, and cook together on a medium heat for 5 to 10 minutes, adding more water when needed.

To serve, garnish with spring onion. I like to eat this with rice and a vegetable or meat dish on the side.

Dabbous, Fitzrovia

2013-02-22T16:08:00.000Z

Dabbous was one of those places that was infamous for its hype. Booked up for months and months in advance, yada yada yada, I got the opportunity to go. The opportunity passed me by swiftly, due to being stuck with an enormous workload. A rearranged lunch was made and that too sailed past for the same reason. Third time lucky, I was determined to go, even if I spent most of my morning at work doing some deep breathing in the toilets, wondering whether the onset of this (what I later discovered was) norovirus would rule me out once again.

But I bravely soldiered on. Huddled against the cold, I battled through the windy streets of Fitzrovia. The bar downstairs which serves bar food, was completely empty; I wondered why everyone who was so desperate to try the food wasn't there instead. A ginger beer-based cocktail went towards settling my stomach. The first course of chilled shrimp broth with a perfect fold of candy beetroot and a hint of shiso leaf was challenging in my condition, but not impossible and it even perked me up a little. Next, speckled endive leaves arrived arranged carefully in a bowl like a blossoming flower, dusted with gingerbread crumbs, with a hint of bergamot.

Fishing those leaves out and cramming them, unladylike into my mouth cheered me no end; the bright, unusual flavours, so distinctly separate yet bound together with the freshness of mint convinced me I'd made the right decision and that yes, I would enjoy this lunch very much indeed.

Mash and gravy sounds so innocuous on the menu, but what turned up was pure decadence. The creamiest, smoothest buttery mashed potato and a rich meaty gravy was comfort food at its finest. A shaving of truffle helped it along a bit. Excuse me a moment while I relive this memory (though, now that I think about it, Lucky Chip's creamed potatoes were almost as good).

Not currently on the tasting menu but requested as an extra course, Dabbous' famous dish is of an egg shell sliced in half with precision. Filled with coddled egg it was silky smooth and studded with woodland mushrooms. It was understandably the signature and I begrudged every spoonful I ate, wishing it wouldn't end.

A rather strange dish of halibut followed; laid bare on a plate with a spear of dill pickle, it was served at room temperature; the skill of the kitchen showed in the delicate texture of the fish, which we later heard was salted before cooking. I marvelled at its technical skill and the feeling of it in the mouth, but remember little about the flavour. I actively disliked a dish of pork belly sat atop a spiced mango chutney. Cloying and overly rich, I abandoned much of it. My companion snaffled the crisp crackling.

We were back on track with a tiny bowlful of blood orange with marjoram and olive oil. Sweet and cleansing, the olive oil added a grassy savouriness to it. Rum baba was deceptively enormous; arriving in glassware I wanted to steal, the sponge was positively soaked in rum, the crumb of it loose and yielding. An ethereal, almost foamy vanilla cream softened the punch of the rum.

The room, industrial in its fittings, was barely comfortable. This is not the place to take someone who appreciates linen tablecloths. But service was that perfect level of completely unremarkable - that is to say, they did they job well in making sure we had everything we wanted. I left happy, shuffling to the bus stop, unknown at the time that this was to be the last meal I'd eat for three days. Thanks Norovirus! Although there were a couple of dishes that I either wasn't blown away by or didn't like, there were others which were inventive (the endive), and others of downright deliciousness and at £59 per head for the tasting menu, one of the best value at this level of cooking. I'll be back - mainly because I've just noticed they do chicken wings on the bar menu...

Dabbous

39 Whitfield Street
London

Tel: 0207 323 1544

Lucky Fried Chicken

2013-02-20T10:58:00.001Z

NOW CLOSED - Lucky Fried Chicken at The Grafton is now serving Lucky Chip burgers.

So the good people of Lucky Chip have done it again. My last visit to The Sebright Arms ended in meat hysteria - meat-steria? - after stuffing my greedy little face with not only burgers but chilli cheese fries, hot dogs and cheese croquettes; I just couldn't stop myself, and I wasn't sorry (until I tried to get to sleep that night). This time, on my visit to the Lucky Fried Chicken residency at The Grafton Arms in Kentish Town, I was a little more restrained. I sorely regret it now.

The upstairs of The Grafton is set out like a takeaway shop with a lit up menu above the counter and booths to sit in. Well, apparently it is; the night we visited it was closed for a private function. I'm not sure I've gasped as dramatically as when I read that little sign. But, no matter as they serve chicken downstairs in the main pub area too. The menu is simple, with boxes and buckets of chicken offered, reminiscent of our favourite Colonel; coleslaw, creamed potatoes, baked beans, bean and potato salads make up the 'Salad' section, and sandwiches and sides complete the menu. That's the kind of salad I could get on board with.

When the chicken arrived, it did so on a tray; our 5 enormous pieces (jumbo box, £12.50) steaming hot, accompanied with a small pot of mash and gravy, and a tub of coleslaw, clearly home-made. No gloopy mayonnaise-laden filth, thank god. Two small dinner rolls completed the plate. I wished we'd ordered the french fries.

BUT THE CHICKEN. It was glorious. Crisp spicy crust, giving way to unbelievably juicy meat, all the way down to the bone. It must have been brined. I had to get a knife and fork as the chicken was too hot to put my face but I was too impatient to wait.

The glory didn't end there, as the creamed potatoes with gravy was similarly delicious. Perfectly smooth mash, savoury chickeny gravy. The dinner roll was repeatedly dunked into that mash until I'd realised I had eaten it all myself. My date didn't seem to notice. Coleslaw was light and crunchy, very celery-heavy which I don't have an issue with. For £12.50 we were satisfied well - ok, I probably could have eaten another piece of chicken and a bit more mash but that is just my own gluttony - and made for pretty great value.

I'm already planning my next trip. It is open for "just a few weeks" (from 13th Feb) before they turn into a burger bar so hurry up and go.

Lunch: Tue-Sat 12-3pm, Sun 12-6pm

Dinner: Tue-Thur 5.30-10pm, Fri-Sat 5.30-11pm

The Grafton Arms
20 Prince of Wales Road
London NW5 3LG

Grilled Aubergines in Nuoc Cham

2013-02-18T13:39:00.000Z

When I'm feeling particularly poorly or over-indulged, it's usually this dish I want to make. Served lukewarm or at room temperature, the aubergines are cooked twice and then covered in a sweet, spicy, sour dressing, tinged with fish sauce and smashed through with garlic - basically, nuoc cham.

Originally, the recipe came to me with the aubergine grilled whole until collapsed, the insides scraped out and mashed through with the dressing. I experimented with this version by flame-roasting it against a gas burner before peeling, creating a smoky result. Too smoky, even, and too rich for my tastebuds that cried out for something lighter. So I took it back to basics; for me, aubergines get their best texture when you give them a good double cooking. Slim Asian aubergines were split into four lengthways, their flesh held together by the stem at the top. Fried for a few minutes in hot oil so that their skins are blistered and curling, they are then transferred to a oven dish and placed under the grill to ensure the insides are soft and silky.

Coriander is fairly essential for this, with perhaps mint being of less importance - I've made it without, but it is better with.

Grilled Aubergines with Nuoc Cham

Serves 2 with other dishes

3 Asian aubergines or use a normal aubergine cut into fingers
4 tbsp vegetable oil
A handful of coriander
Half the amount of mint

Slice the aubergines lengthways into 4, keeping the stem intact so it holds the aubergine together. Heat the oil in a wok until almost smoking, turn the heat down to medium and fry the aubergines well, turning occasionally. Do not burn. Set aside, laying the aubergines in an oven dish. Cook under a medium grill for 20 minutes, turning the aubergines half way through.

Chop the mint finely, and the coriander roughly. Set to one side. If you have roots on your coriander stalks, wash them well, chop them finely, and add them to the pestle and mortar to be ground into the nuoc cham sauce.

For the Nuoc Cham:

Essentially, this sauce should be made as you like it. Keep tasting and adding as some will prefer it more sour, some sweeter, some more or less spicy. This is how I like mine.

1 bird's eye chilli (use more if you like it really hot, less if you don't)
1 fat clove of garlic
2 tsp brown sugar
1 lime
2 tbsp fish sauce
2 tbsp water

In a pestle and mortar, crush the clove of garlic with the sugar until it is a smooth paste. Deseed the chilli and chop it roughly, then add to the mortar and give it a good pestling. Add the lime juice, mix well. Add 1 tbsp of fish sauce, taste. Add 1 tbsp water, taste. Keep doing this until you have the desired piquancy or pungency that you like. Remember you can always add but you can't take away.

To assemble, place the aubergines in a dish while warm and pour the dressing over. Garnish with the chopped mint and the coriander, and serve with rice.

The Shed, Notting Hill

2013-02-12T15:10:00.001Z

In honesty, I wasn't expecting to like The Shed. When a friend recommended it to me, having been enthralled with the food, he followed with 'it's twee as fuck though'. With its Notting Hill location - land of the braying smugsters - these factors were not painting a good image in my head.

And gosh, was it twee. The whole place is indeed fitted out like a shed. Lights hang from tractor fittings and the loos are wallpapered with cartoon farmland print, the type you might get in a child's bedroom. Oil drums serve as tables for two, though when we visited on Saturday night reservation-less we were led to a communal table next to the kitchen's pass. It was stiflingly hot. A complimentary packet of seeds (mustard sprouts for us) are presented to you with your bill.

But I did like it. Perhaps it was because the manager looked a little like R Patz, and you couldn't fault him for his enthusiasm when he told us his story of opening the place with his two brothers. One works in the kitchen, and the other the farm they get their ingredients from. Even when he topped my sherry up with white wine, it was okay as the apology was profuse and the sherry replaced.

The food was hard to choose from, with 2 / 3 dishes recommended per person and at least 90% of the menu I wanted to order. 'Mouthfuls' at £1.50 each were described to us as one-bites; beef tartare on crispbread was excellent, as was the pork crackling with apple sauce. Smoked mackerel pate on a lettuce leaf was something I would wang together for friends at a 70's themed dinner party; I wouldn't order it again.

Split into 'slow cooking' and 'fast cooking' dishes, a crisp-skinned fillet of whiting was served atop a mound of crushed potatoes, loosened by lemon and oil and chilli. This was the dish that I was most loathe to share of the small plate concept in play here; I loved it.

Chorizo with labneh, crispbread and sprout leaves was a hefty portion, with a touch too much of the spiced pork; nevertheless, the cooling yoghurt worked well in making the ideal mouthful. Crispy cuttlefish (above) with almonds on sweet chilli beans was better judged in size; while delicious, any more of it would have become cloying from the sugary spiciness.

Another top dish was chicken hearts with butter lettuce and blood oranges. Butter lettuce is a totally underrated leaf, usually eschewed for the trendier rocket or little gem leaves; here, its floppiness worked perfectly in a lukewarm pan of tender hearts, slightly pink in the middle, and acidic orange segments. It sounds strange, it certainly looked odd but it tasted great.

Hogget cheek braised to tenderness completed our set of dishes; I may have been too full to appreciate it at this point, but it was just fine - no massive fireworks, it was a decently cooked piece of meat on a sweet onion puree, with a superfluous biscuit which I suppose comprised the 'tart' aspect of the onions. A shared pudding was far better received; we wibbled that pannacotta heartily (as you can see...), gobbled down with a glass of English apple brandy.

The bill for two with service, aperitifs and wine brought a slight wince to the face at £110 - maybe because I had to pay it all, having lost a frivolous bet. It's not cheap, but the flavour combinations and quality of ingredients were interesting and unusual enough to make me alright with it.

The Shed

122 Palace Gardens Terrace

London W8 4RT

Tel: 020 7229 4024

Sichuan Wontons

2013-02-10T22:47:00.000Z

It's Chinese New Year and 2013 is the year of the snake. To celebrate, I cooked a dinner for some friends and we all agreed that these Sichuan wontons were the star of the show. It may have been due to me making everyone do the folding; things taste better when you make them, right? But you can't really go wrong with pork dumplings doused in a fiery sweet, salty, garlicky sauce.

These differ from the Cantonese wontons in that they don't contain prawns; I couldn't find any worth using, but in any case the sauce is so punchy that the robust flavour of the pork stands up better than with the delicate flavour of prawns. Get your friends round to do the folding and you'll be done in mere minutes.

Sichuan Wontons

Feeds 6, when served with other dishes

1 packet of wonton wrappers - you can buy these in Chinatown in the fridge section
450gr minced pork - you want a bit of fat in this
4 dried shiitake mushroom, rehydrated in boiling water for 30 minutes
1 tsp grated ginger
3 spring onions, minced
1/2 tsp white pepper
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp oyster sauce
1/2 tsp salt
1 egg, beaten

Chop the mushrooms finely and mix with the pork in a large bowl. Add the ingredients except the egg (and the wrappers...) and stir well with chopsticks until it has all combined well.

Take a wonton wrapper in your hand, the point of a corner pointing to your wrist. Wet the top left and right edges with a finger dipped in the beaten egg. Add a heaped teaspoon of filling to the centre and bring the bottom edges to meet the egg washed edges to make a triangle. Gently squeeze the air out of the area around the filling and seal well. Bring the two points of the corner to meet around the front, wetting one edge with a little egg to seal it. Place on a floured plate and repeat until the wrappers are finished.

You can freeze them on a sheet and then combine in a bag once frozen, and cook from frozen. Or, if using now, cook in lightly simmering water for 5 or so minutes.

For the sauce:

6 tbsp chilli oil with its sediment
4 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tsp sugar
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tbsp Chinese black vinegar
2 tsp finely minced garlic
1 stalk of spring onion

Combine the chilli oil, soy sauce, sugar, sesame oil and vinegar. Mix well until all is incorporated, and then add the minced garlic. Slice the spring onion on the diagonal but save as garnish.

When the wontons are cooked, drain them well and combine with the sauce. Scatter the spring onions on top as garnish.

Trullo, Islington

2013-02-01T18:10:00.001Z

Way back in the mists of time (well, 2011) I visited Trullo for lunch and I remembered being dumbstruck by a beautiful, silken dish of tagliolini with courgettes and brown shrimp. Ordered to share between my friend and I as a in betweeny starter and main, it stole the show for me. There was a delicacy to it, a lightness to the dish but also it was also luxurious - I imagine it was swimming in butter. The restaurant was busy - really busy, with families and couples alike lunching. Therefore, I was surprised when before Christmas an email landed in my inbox from their PR asking if I'd like to go and review it.

I would have written about it when I first went had I not been writing about it for someone else, so I accepted but then had to cancel due to sickness. A certain sense of relief came from the cancellation; I had done much agonising over whether I want to do invite-to-reviews anymore. It sounds spoilt of me, but I find the whole process toe-curlingly awkward; from the knowing look when you walk in and tell them your name, to the (usually) desperate to please service and all the time I'm thinking 'god, all this for ME?'. And then you get to that bill stage, or rather the lack of it; the signal to end meals and leave is not there anymore and each time I felt like a criminal asking for my jacket and shuffling out of there without that finality. All that before you even get down to the whole subjectivity argument.

So I decided to go on my own dollar and I'm jolly pleased to report that the pasta was still astonishingly good, the staff still friendly and attentive and packed out on a Tuesday night until 9:30pm, when we managed to nab a last-minute table. After a fortifying quince and prosecco cocktail at the bar, we settled down to our table to order. I wasn't enormously hungry (for once) so I opted for a starter and a pasta.

I love bitter leaves and chicory and dandelion are amongst my favourite. Blood orange segments softened the bitterness somewhat, and the curls of cheese slowly mixed into the dressing, giving it creaminess. A near-perfect balance of flavours.

Obviously I'm going to win photographer of the year with my picture of what can only look like worms in cheese - you'll have to take my word for it that the pici with Amalfi lemon, garlic, marjoram and parmesan was glorious. When asked what pici was, our waiter said it was like a hand-rolled spaghetti, a little thicker and without egg in the dough. Being a huge fan of anything noodle-shaped, I was sold. The pasta was chewy, not soft and the lemon sauce not in the slightest bit astringent but rather more gentle and perfumed. Not cheap at £9 for a small portion, mind.

Beef shin pappardelle was equally well received (and equally dear), though a main course of mackerel cooked on the charcoal grill could have benefitted with a little more time on the heat.

We rounded off our meal nicely with a wibbly-wobbly lemon tart and another bottle of wine before we eventually got the message that perhaps the staff might want to go home. There's often talk of places outside W1 being nice 'neighbourhood' restaurants but I'd cross town for Trullo's pasta so I won't put it in that camp.

Trullo
300 - 302 St Paul's Road
London N1 2LH

Tel: 020 7226 2733

Salon, Brixton

2013-01-28T20:33:00.000Z

We weren't the easiest lunch customers. Having faffed around with my booking no less than three times - "Thursday night? Sunday lunch? there's 5 of us! No, 6! No, 5!", we showed up at Salon in Brixton some of us hungover and bleary-eyed, a toddler in tow. Located above Cannon & Cannon, the meat and cheese deli in Market Row, the small dining room sat 25 or so, an open-plan kitchen small enough for only a few chefs to squidge in.

Happily we didn't have to do anything so strenuous as actually making a decision for what to eat as the menu is set. Usually 4 courses, this particular Sunday we were treated to 5 in honour of the Burn's Night passed.

A plate piled high with crispy fingers of lamb were greaseless and faultless, the breadcrumbs giving way to tender lamb shoulder within. The lamb came from Flock & Herd in Peckham, evidence of careful meat sourcing. A punchy mint sauce studded with tiny capers was essential to each bite and when we ran out of lamb, we carried on eating the sauce.

Their take on cullen skink was a comforting little bowlful, silky in texture and generous with the smoky flavour of the haddock. Seaweed flecked the soup and crunchy croutons bobbed within, retaining their crunch throughout.

Partridge was presented on a board to share, a breast and a wing each. The bird was simply cooked and accompanied with rye bread mayo; we all dipped our fingers in it for a proper taste and the rye of the bread came through well. Vibrant pickled red cabbage rounded each mouthful off nicely. Partridge isn't my favourite bird but nevertheless I gobbled my portion up.

My favourite course was the mutton faggot served with greens and mashed swede. A dense shiny meatball, it was juicier than it looked. The slight flavour of offal came through but not enough to be off-putting (I'll admit it, I'm a liver-avoider). Mashed swede was intensely sweet, offset well by the broccoli-like floret, more bitter than I'm used to.

Finally, dessert of whiskey semifreddo with poached rhubarb and oats arrived. The semifreddo, like the lightest whipped ice cream, had a just-discernible hint of whiskey. Rhubarb was served as poached sticks but also as a puree and the dish was garnished with face-puckeringly raw slivers. This was loved universally; the individual portion gifted to the kid was pilfered by the adults.

Service was sweet and accommodating; not an eyelid was batted when forks were swept onto the floor and spoons banged against the table when we didn't catch it in time. The head chef himself, Nicholas Balfe came out to introduce a few of the dishes and it's evident they have a real pride in their ingredients and dishes. At £30 for the set menu, it was great value, and we all left happy and with a mind to return.

Salon
Upstairs at Cannon & Cannon
18 Market Row
Brixton
London SW9 8LD

Tel: 020 7501 9152
info@salonbrixton.co.uk

(Worth noting that while we took a toddler there and didn't have any problems, the bathrooms aren't really equipped with child-changing facilities.)

Clam Pasta

2013-01-21T17:08:00.001Z

Clam pasta, otherwise known as vongole, is one of my favourite pasta dishes. Traditionally Neapolitan, this dish is made both with and without tomatoes. I prefer it as the latter made with white wine (of course), so that the silky sauce coats the strands of spaghetti transparently, flecked with red chilli and parsley. It is total simplicity, and in the amount of time it takes to cook the pasta, the wine should have reduced and the clams wide-mouthed and ready to be incorporated into the pasta.

The final cooking of the spaghetti with the clam sauce is quite important, as it allows the pasta to soak up some of the juices. I clickity clacked through my bowl in record time.

Spaghetti alle Vongole

Serves 3

900gr live clams (mine came from Moxon's)
400gr dried spaghetti
3 fat cloves of garlic
1 red chilli (use a fat long one; a bird's eye would be too much here)
200ml white wine
A hefty handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped finely
1/2 a lemon, zested and juiced
A knob of butter
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt & pepper

Rinse the clams in plenty of cold running water for 10 minutes.

In a large pan, melt the butter and the oil together. Slice the garlic finely, and mince the chilli. Add this to the pan with the lemon zest to sweat gently on a low heat. Add the white wine and simmer well until half the liquid has evaporated.

Boil some water for the spaghetti and set the pasta on.

Add the clams to the wine sauce and place a lid on top - cook on a high heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Check them and as soon as they look as if most of them have opened take them off the heat.

By now, your pasta should be al dente (or, take it off the heat when it is). Drain and add the pasta to the clams, tossing and stirring gently over the residual heat of your hob until all of it is combined. Add the lemon juice and the parsley, season to taste with salt and pepper and serve immediately.

Chap Chye

2013-01-16T20:47:00.001Z

Ah, January, the month of austerity and dieting. I did try, I really did but in making Chap Chye, some pork ribs just happened to slip in. I couldn't help it; they slipped out of the pack, shimmied their way under my knife and leapt into the pot. There really was nothing I could do about it. Otherwise though, this is a nice and healthy stew.

Of Nyonya origin, this is normally vegetarian but sometimes not. Fermented red bean curd is usually used to flavour it and it's not for the faint-hearted. Open the lid of the jar and give it a good whiff - chances are you'll do a little retch. Fish a cube out, mash it, and then fry it and the smell transforms, much like the Thai shrimp paste (which actually I like the smell of pre and post cooking. I know I am in the minority here).

The main components of this stew are mostly dried which makes it pretty handy to have the ingredients at hand. They're also mainly found at Chinese supermarkets. Cabbage and carrots cooked within it make the stew sweet from the vegetables, and deeply earthy from the mushrooms. Shiitake mushrooms and black fungus are both used, creating a good contrast in textures; you get squidgy and crunchy and slippery all at once. Eaten with a bit of rice, this was comforting and warming.

Chap Chye

Serves 4 with rice and a vegetable side dish

50gr pork ribs or pork belly, chopped into bitesize chunks
8 dried shiitake mushrooms
20gr dried black fungus
1 carrot, peeled and roll cut
A few leaves of white cabbage or napa cabbage, cut into squares
6 sticks of dried tofu bamboo
A few dried lily bulbs (optional if you can find them)
50gr glass noodles, soaked in hot water
1 cube of red fermented beancurd
5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 inch of ginger, minced
1 tsp sugar
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp dark soy sauce
2 tsp light soy sauce
1 stalk of spring onion
1 tsp sesame oil

Place the mushrooms and black fungus in a large bowl and cover with boiling water. Cover with a small plate and leave for 15 mins. Do the same in another bowl with the tofu bamboo and lily bulbs.

Heat up the wok with a tablespoon of oil. Add the pork ribs and brown well. Turn the heat down and add the mashed red beancurd and the garlic and ginger.

Add the carrot and mix well. Reserve the mushroom water and slice the shiitake mushroom in half, discarding the stem. Add to the wok, along with the black fungus (chopped into bite size pieces). Add the mushroom water (though strain, as it may be gritty) which should be at around 200ml and then add the oyster sauce, soy sauces and sugar. Add the tofu bamboo and lily buds and simmer for 30 mins gently. Add a little more water if it's looking dry. Add the cabbage and stir until combined, simmer for another 15 minutes for white cabbage, 5 minutes for napa cabbage. Finally add the drained noodles and simmer for a few more minutes, it should thicken up a little.

Garnish with spring onion sliced diagonally, and drizzle the sesame oil over it.

Bone Daddies

2013-01-07T21:13:00.003Z

You may have heard of this new little ramen place called Bone Daddies. There's been some excitement since its opening in early November, or perhaps I just follow noodle nerds. I sat back and watched it all unfold on Twitter, as picture after picture of bowls of tonkotsu littered my Twitter feed.

I sulked over it. Deep into Vegan Month, tonkotsu was not going to be mine. Made by boiling pig bones until you get the pure essence of pork, it is made milky white by collagen and fat (mmm!) and flavour released from the bones. As soon as veganism was over and done with, I ran down there to try it out for myself.

Crazed by meat-lust, we kicked off with some decent fried chicken (£5); perfectly crispy and juicy, pepped up with a bit of lemon. Soft shell crab (£8) looked like creatures of the deep reaching out to you. Again, expertly fried they were meaty and served with a lime-spiked sauce.

I ordered my 'T22' with extra broth (£3!) - I was somewhat over-excited... - which in hindsight wasn't really necessary and swamped the cock scratchings (stop sniggering at the back, it's chicken skin, fried) and rendered them lost in the brothy depths. Nonetheless, the clear soy-based broth was the very essence of chicken. Soft-boiled nitamago (soy marinated egg) was eggy fudgy heaven. Noodles had a decent pull to them and fat coated my lips, making them sticky, like a natural lip balm. I liked it but it wasn't the noodly epiphany everyone had me believe it would be.

It wasn't until I went back for more that I really fell in love with the place.

At 7:30pm on a Friday night, unsurprisingly there was a queue. With an eye on our watches for our impending cinema date, we still managed to get sat down quickly, within half an hour of when we first joined the queue. Cabbage with miso (£2.50) was an addictive and moreish little snack; the leaves were not quite the sulphurous tang of fully raw cabbage yet they still retained a crunch, and the miso sauce was punchy and flavoursome. That soft shell crab had to be ordered again.

This time, I heeded chef Ross Shonan's advice and went for the standard, non-extra-brothed version. The tantanmen (£10) had a rich sesame-flavoured thick broth, garnished with minced pork as well as chilli and a bit of chicken. Extra corn I added, because there is not a lot that isn't improved with extra corn. Spicy and filling, it was perfect for a cold night, like a big fat hug from the inside.

I'm already planning my next trip. For roughly £20 a head with starters and sans booze, it's a casual dinner but one made with a lot of expertise and skill. Their cocktails looked pretty decent, and we had a lovely canteloupe sake that the house kindly gifted us.

It might make me fat. I'm ok with that.

Bone Daddies
31 Peter Street
London W1F 0AR

Honey & Co., Fitzrovia

2013-01-03T10:43:00.000Z

Honey & Co. is a tiny little restaurant tucked away in the deepest depths of Fitzrovia. Serving food from the Middle East, chef Sarit Packer has a good pedigree for this style, having worked at Ottolenghi and Nopi. We made a late lunch booking; with only a handful of tables, the place was busy and bustling. Once squeezed in, we ordered some meze to share (£5 per person); hummus was smooth and creamy, aubergines roasted and marinated in a piquant sauce. Cheese pastry triangles I thought may have been better warmed, but little balls of a mozzerella-like cheese served with a herby green dressing were great. A tomato, bulghar wheat and caper mixture was scooped up greedily into warm pitta breads.

We had a pretty hard time trying to decide on mains and we delighted our host by opting for all of them to share (bar the vegetarian dish, because, well...). Sea bream (above) in a spiced tomato sauce, cute in its cast iron pot was spicy but balanced, the delicate flavour of the fish coming through. Lamb was pulled into soft chunks and piled on top of a flat bread, scattered with pickled vegetables and shiny pink pomegranate seeds. Pick of the bunch was a chicken dish that was topped with fried vermicelli strands; I thought the dish a little over-sweet but my friends disagreed. And that veal shank (below) was tender enough to dispose of the knife, pulling away from the bone with ease and sweetened with the fruit.

Desserts arrived, and while not usually one for sweet things the chocolate mousse particularly took my heart; whipped into lightness, the dark chocolate was heavily flavoured with cardamom. Flakes of salt decorated the top - perhaps why I liked it so much - which gave it an interesting sweet / savoury dimension. I concentrated on this while my friends made their way through a beautiful-looking plum and mascarpone cake, and some sort of whipped cream concoction topped with blueberries and hazelnuts.

Wine was served in stubby glasses, a Verdiccio that was startlingly easy to drink as we whiled away the afternoon there. It's not fancy; we sat slightly cramped amongst paper tablecloths, but it was comfortable and casual; Itamar who served us was so jolly and friendly. They have the most adorable bathroom so make sure you visit it. For roughly £30 a head, we ate handsomely and left happy.

Other people have been for breakfast which looks equally as good - pastries are clearly their strong point. They do have slightly odd opening hours (see below) though.

Honey & Co.
25a Warren Street
W1T 5LZ
0207 388 6175

Mon-Wed 7:30 - 19:00
Thu-Fri 7:30 - 22:30
Sat 9:00 - 17:00
Closed Sunday