…in my dreams, they are delivered through sealed message tubes passed directly from the Arzak to Ametsa kitchens, through an elaborate infrastructure of pneumatically controlled subsea pipelines underneath the Bay of Biscay. On one hand, it should be obvious that quality of food is controlled by proxy by those wizards in Donostia. On the other, perhaps there is substance to this rumour of self-sabotage. The Arzaks may not wish for it to do (too) well lest it eclipses the original.

A ‘celebrity’ restaurant then is what Ametsa is, like those operated by the Marina Bay Sands in Singapore, which attempt to transpose those culinary experiences – so rooted in its locality – to an alien environment.

Securing a booking was difficult and a late Friday lunch in mid April was the earliest I could manage. So I was a little surprised by the empty lunch service. May this be due in part to the rush of lukewarm reviews that has flooded the internet so far? It’s only been open for a month and yet it’s already been shot to death by the London media. This social proof has definitely coloured my expectations, in contrast to before it opened, though some part of me still thinks that any spinoff by the world’s most famous culinary family could only produce nothing less than greatness. While it is possible that I will someday visit San Sebastian, right now, Ametsa is the closest I will get to first hand experience of Juan Mari & Elena Arzak’s hallowed cuisine.

The tasting menu isn’t ‘too expensive’ or at least it is not out of step with the competition. It is £52 for lunch but has been expanded to cover four rather than three courses with petit fours and amuse bouches (in mid April 2013). Add £16 for 3 glasses of (decent) wine to pair with the food and the damage doesn’t seem so bad. The dinner taster is double the money (which seems quite bad), with a few extra courses. ALC, on the other hand, is hideously expensive at £12/£30/£30/£12, so I went with the taster.

Chorizo with Mango; Rice with Fish Mousse

Chorizo wrapped in sliced mango and another rice crispies fish mayo sandwich… yeah seems nice, but nothing overly exciting.

From Egg to Chicken

So …softly boiled eggs, with chicken-skin flavoured muesli yes?

Apparently there’s high level trickery going on here, with paper made from yolk or something placed atop an egg, delicately coaxed to readiness at low temperatures, with a warm chicken broth poured over it by the table, supposedly to complete the poaching process. For all its complexities, the egg did taste quite special. Especially the egg white, so delicate in a polished, opalescent-like manner, almost unworldly, unnatural, a little baffling but delicious. Chicken skin bits were nice, and so too the gentle broth, that tasted very balanced. Good egg. But still, just an egg.

Mackerel Green and Black

I hazard a guess that the fish was pre-marinated, grilled to apparent perfection. The textures were unnaturally great, so juicy, so flaky, plump and tenderly silken. Such sweetness and deep brininess. Almost as singularly precise as Hedone’s version, though this is arguably better. The celeraic cream was good and an orthodox compliment to the fish, but I was most impressed by the sort of over-stuffed, Rivita multi-seed wafer with a surface area made up of more seed than wafer. I felt this seedy, oily richness did enhance the flavours of the fish. Only problem was how small it was – I could’ve done with at least another fillet.

Really tremendous cooking here, perfect even, but as the previous dish, it’s something a few other London restaurants can do just as well, so it doesn’t break new ground, even if I would be quite happy eating this again.

Beef Fillet with Aged red wine

Tender steak, simply pan-fried, that tasted perfectly fine. The chicken sauce that was poured over it too smelled fantastic and also tasted fine. But then, it’s a good steak that smells like a good roast chicken that I felt clashed badly with warm pineapple. Not entirely sure if ‘aged’ red wine refers to bottle age or vinegar? Either way, the function of the foam was not obvious. Nice individual elements, but the flavour combo didn’t work for me.

French Toast with Mango and Coconut

Wow, I liked this. The smell of fragrant mango & coconut from the warmish brioche soaked in custard or egg or something like that, and I think wrapped with mango. The custard ‘soup’ if I can call it that, was reminiscent of a really good mango lassi. The flavours were all in the right place, it’s certainly a very nice pudding, but like the other dishes, it didn’t seem all that surprising, exciting or unique.

Petit Fours

Really nice macarons here. Pillowy consistency, like Pierre Hermes.

I paid £76.50 for one.

Ametsa isn’t bad actually, in fact, the cooking is rather decent, so good that in some dishes, it seemed to me like the model of eerie perfection. The problem is, the experience as a whole, isn’t great. Maybe it’s unfair to expect a meal to be able to rewrite the rules and it should be enough that a restaurant cooks decent food. This would probably be fine if it were any other restaurant, but this isn’t and unfairly or not, it looks nothing like the real deal.

Maybe it lacks passion or personal touch or perhaps they have trouble adapting their recipes to local produce. Maybe a paltry set of instructions is an inadequate substitute for the presence of an Arzak in the Ametsa kitchen. It just seems like this project is too much like celebrity restaurant franchising and far from the chiseled Arzak in London we were hoping for. The parallels to Murata’s Chrysan (which I never tried) and its eventual fate may (or may not) linger over Ametsa.

The spice test tube ceiling may win design awards, but it gives an ambiance that has more in common with a modern art museum than a cosy restaurant. Like Nahm before it, I feel that too much of the unfortunate stereotype of a hotel restaurant remain for which some of you will have reason to avoid. It is antithesis to the joy of eating out. It doesn’t possess the convivial energy of say, Cambio de Tercio. For what it’s worth, I think Ametsa is perfect for business meals, but not so much for leisure.

I don’t know what the arrangements behind this restaurant are but as it stands, it seems like success or failure may be irrelevant. Either way, the fact remains unchanged, that the only way to have the full Arzak experience is to fly to San Sebastian.

Details

Ametsa with Arzak Instruction
New Basque
Lunch £52 ; Dinner £105
The Halkin Hotel
Halkin Street
SW1X 7DJ
Tube: Hyde Park Corner

It’s not that I don’t like ‘high end’ Chinese food, it’s just that I don’t think the cooking is good enough to set it apart from (say) the average Chinese restaurant. Yes that Ling Ling bar is still genius interior design after all these years, but food just isn’t at the same level as the bling. On the other hand, it is hard to put aside preconceptions of Chinese food as a value driven feast. Even for the regality of banquet cuisine, it’s still about abundance, more abalone, more Louis XIII, more dried scallops. I think it’s inherent in the culture, making it difficult to translate it into something more …until I ate here.

Bo London is by Alvin Leung, born in Britain, raised in Canada, who established himself in Hong Kong. An acoustic engineer by profession but who became a self-taught cook. He goes by the nickname ‘Demon Chef’ whose practice of ‘X-treme Chinese’ cooking has earned his HK restaurant, Bo Innovation, two michelin stars. He brings his X-tremities to our shores, the food taking on a British accent along the way, whilst remaining fundamentally Chinese. He’s certainly eccentric and there is absolutely nobody in the business (especially in London) whose work is as colourful as Alvin’s.

I still have this reverence for HK restaurants and so Alvin bringing his cooking to London is definitely exciting news to me. The restaurant looks sleek but also seems casual, a small restaurant. For lunch, BO offers a £30 set, ALC dim sum as bar food and a £98 ten course taster which is the subject of this blog post.

Dead Garden: Green Onion, lime, avocado, enoki, morel

The meal began with an amuse of edible ‘soil’ that hid a bright green foam that was warm, wobbly and onion flavoured. Simple, delicious, balanced, analogous to Hedone’s umami flan. Punchy flavours, interesting presentation.

Bed and Breakfast: Smoked quail egg, crispy taro nest, oscietra caviar

There was a story behind the steel tree structure that held aloft a fried taro nest coddling a smoked quail egg topped with caviar, which I didn’t pay attention to, though I was totally enraptured when I dropped it in my mouth. The egg imploded and then a burst of smoked runny yolk followed, unleashing all kinds of delicious flavours. The briny caviar, the yolk, the smoked notes, richness with lightness, truly well balanced, East meeting West but fundamentally still very Chinese. Someone had gone out of their way to reinvent the humble taro croquette, with much success and with seeming simplicity. Wow (mouthful of a) dish. Now if he would only fill the rest of the steel branches with more of the same.

Cloud: Black sesame ponzu, mackerel, ginger, rose

So this came as a mist of rose scented dry ice – meant to evoke an English rose garden – which looked and smelled nice, I though the theatrics dried up too quickly. The grounded bittersweet black sesame coating for the cubed mackerel, unorthodox as it was, paired up real well. Due to the sesame, to me, this tasted like a dessert reworked as a fish starter.

Foie gras: Lettuce wrap, ”Abby’s” sauce

By this course, the mouthfuls eventually grew to half a handful. Crispy iceberg with a pretty sizeable knob of foie gras. The real winner however was that sauce. The recipe is credited to Alvin’s wife (for which I remain blissfully unaware of the exact details), was a little sweet, a little cheesy, like a Chinese version of béarnaise and it just went so well with the duck liver. Another ridiculously balanced dish but this one seemed so homely and nostalgic. I guess this was that cliche moment where food got so good that it unlocked lost childhood memories in me and made a grown man weep. I loved this, I really loved this. I just wished there was more of it.

Scallop: Crispy woba, jolo, sugar snap pea foam

No idea what woba and jolo are, but I can tell you the sauce was (also) immensely delicious. Sweet, sticky, regal like a Chinese XO oyster sauce superfused with abalone; it had this subtle numbing pepperiness to it. The scallop was a beautiful translucent hue inside, cooked to just under. Great. I wished there were three instead of one.

Steak and Kidney: Xiao long bao, avruga

An OMG moment. I’m no XLB otaku, but I thought this was absolute perfection. The dough seemed to have just the right elasticity & thickness, the soup inside while hot, did not sear my tongue, a rich meaty filling with just a hint of offal funk. I really don’t think I’ve ever eaten XLB quite like this. Amazing balance of flavour, just serious wow. As the saying goes: 入口即化 (that stuff melts when you put it in your mouth).

Wagyu Beef: black truffle, cheung fun

Yeah really nice oily, rich Oz wagyu (probably a sirloin) but for me, the real star were the cheung fun smothered in this seemingly grounded truffled laced thick soya reduction. Loads of generous rich umami flavour, but never over the top, and still recognisably Chinese. Just a pleasure.

Bai Jiu: Ice parfait, caramel, passionfruit

Mousse-like, but with a sort of purity to it, probably because it is supposed to mimic the sensation of rice wine. Who knows, delicious though.

Coconut: Creme brulee

Yeah, it was good egg custard, but truth be told, these desserts seem a little more orthodox than the savouries, until..

..the sex on the beach.

Yes this is that infamous dish. Note the red ribbon, the cause for which this dish supports.

Lychee flavoured jelly made into a condom, and then filled with a condensed milk to mimic you know what. I think it only looks awkward because it’s so realistic. After all, durex does do it in this flavour. Sure, my gag reflex kicked in as I pushed my fork into the ‘condom’ and this I can be sure of never having experienced on any dinner table. Eating or otherwise.

But surprise, surprise, underneath, the sex on the beach was actually a rather good pudding, the best of the lot. A tropical fruit crumble, with high acidity to cleanse the palate.

Petit dim sum.

Not just saying this because we share surnames, but I think Bo London is brilliant. Nothing about Bo London is standard or to be expected and if anything, the restaurant is completely anti-fashion. I loved the meal because I thought the cooking was just wonderful. It may be presented in a whimsical style, interpreted as a crack at fusion, but unlike its competition (in London), Alvin’s cooking at its core, is undeniably Chinese.

For an admirer of Cantonese cooking, I was most impressed by the beguiling balance of flavours that twirled around the palate with precision and purpose… as if I were taking in a champion figure skating performance. As the world of fancy restaurants continue to take more inspiration from the East, Alvin’s cooking tends to the same convergence from the reverse direction. It’s daring, serious but also FUN. I wouldn’t say this is someone who has thrown the rulebook out, rather, I think this is someone who understands and respects his cuisine and is upgrading it in a practical manner. Yes, he’s got some mad ideas but I do think he is genuinely trying to push Chinese cooking into the great beyond. Mad props to a chef who would take a decent pudding and turn it post-coital.

I paid £147.38 for this meal, so no doubt it is expensive. £98 for ten courses is a lot to ask, almost unheard for a new opening post-2008, in the golden age of street-fooding and just a shocker for a Chinese restaurant. Price is always a contentious issue, more so for a cuisine that is thought of as being abundant in quality and quantity as the scales slide up.

Admittedly, I carry the same preconceptions, and psychologically, as the bill inches closer to the 3 figure mark, no matter what the restaurant, diners will develop weighty expectations. Take me and my better half as a case study: It is then the dummy emperor defending his new robes versus skeptical Miss every-bistro. Why should you throw £150 at one meal, when you could spend the same over multiple meals in a town with probably too much to choose from, right? Ultimately, I think it’s about giving the illusion of perceived value for money. Perhaps rethinking the ALC format is necessary but I think the stop gap solution is to maybe double the mouthfuls for each course.

Money issues aside I still feel this is an important restaurant to open in London. For me, this sets the bar for high end Chinese cooking. I’ve never thought of Chinese food as anything more than whatever traditional dishes I’ve been accustomed to all my life, but this has turned my opinion completely. It is creative stuff but to my tastes, it is also very rooted in Chinese cooking. I applaud it for that reason. High end Chinese may be as elusive as a Tazzy tiger and perhaps even rarer in London but I’m convinced that I’ve glimpsed it.

This will burn a hole in your pocket and I have a feeling you may disagree with me on this one, but I do think it’s worth a punt. Alternatively, give the £30 lunch set a go.

Details

Bo London
X-treme Chinese.
Lunch £30-£35set; Dinner 12/14 courses for £98/£138
4 Mill Street W1S 2AX
Tube: Oxford Circus

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All signs indicate that we are about to witness the second emergence of ramen in London; But this time, perhaps with less national franchise designs, and more of a focused effort on being small scale, independent, an identity differentiated by quality recipes.

You already know about the pioneering ones namely Tonkotsu and Bone Daddies. Soon, Tim Anderson (past Masterchef Champ) will throw his new baby, Namban, into the fray sometime later this year. You have probably also read of the exponential rise in standards as these guys continue to tweak their maturing bowls of water, bone & flour, based on their collective experiences. Each has already dug a nice corner of the market for themselves, thanks in part to our ongoing, unquenchable appetite for the one-plate specialists.

Shoryu comes by way of Japan Centre, the long time importer of everything Japanese, which has long sold fast Japanese food from their (relocated) Lower Regent Street grocery shop and their restaurant Toku. If I’m not mistaken, they also operate a satellite outpost in Westfield Stratford, which sell takeaway noodles & fried bites under the Shoryu banner.

Fukouka born chef Kanji Furukawa is the point-man for Shoryu, practicing the Hakata style which originates from his native Kyushu. His soup base is a tonkotsu (pork bone) broth, identified by a milky appearance and use of thin, uncurled noodles.

My first visit to Shoryu was in December and the 2nd visit was early Feb 2013, both times we thought the noodles were quite wonderful. While it reminded me of my trip to Japan last Autumn, admittedly, paled in comparison to the experiences we had in Kyoto and Tokyo.

Yuzu Tonkotsu, £10.40.

And so, it is milky in appearance, creamy to taste and very smooth. To my untrained palate, this was absolutely divine.

While some of you love the saturated fatty, heavy taste of unsieved, liquidised bone marrow, I for one find it difficult to drink a bowl of it. Saying that, some may find the Shoryu broth to lack depth, but for me, I prefer it because it isn’t over-extracted marrow, fat, and I think less is more in this regard.

I really enjoyed this smooth broth with no bits, and the yuzu infusion was thrilling stuff. I thought the spicy yuzu paste gave the soup a nice acidic tilt with zesty fragrance and at the same time hitting the palate with a chilli kick.

I read that some blogs talked of a crocked charsiu recipe, but I thought it was pretty tasty. Although on the 2nd visit, the charsiu came cubed rather than thinly sliced (in the Charsiu Tonkotsu), cubes of wet pork belly with more fat than lean meat, didn’t go down as well.

One thing I would say about the yuzu broth is that once I hoovered up all the meat and noodles, the soup on it own gets bitter. Too much zest perhaps, but that’s just a small critique. Otherwise, it’s a bloody good recipe.

Tokyo Shoyu, £8.00.

The Tokyo style, soya based soup was also delicious, but I think the yuzu tonkotsu is a far more interesting dish. The soft boiled eggs here are adequate, but I think the ones over at Tonkotsu’s Burford Browns have the edge.

Side dishes weren’t ready when Shoryu opened last year, but were offered on my 2nd visit.

I’m Chinese so I love my rice and truthfully I prefer it to piping hot noodles. The reverse is true for the better half, whose Taiwanese roots have hardened her tongue to withstand soups served at boiling temperature.

Shoryu Genki Mushi, £4.90

Brown rice, charsiu, mentaiko fish roe, soft white with hard boiled yolk, pickles and nori seaweed – and at a nice price too.

This may appear a simple recipe, but I believe it is one that relies on the quality of its most fundamental components to be on point. When it all comes together, it can really be a gorgeous bowl of food. While I think this is adequate in its own right, sadly it paled in comparison to the version I had at Ippudo in Kyoto.

The Ippudo version’s far superior pork, fluffy & pure rice with a lovingly cold onsen egg with a gentle running yolk was certainly a class apart. For around 350 yen (£3.). I know it’s unfair to compare London to it’s native standards, but hey ho, such is food’s relative subjectivity and personal benchmarks right?

The next time I’m back to Shoryu however, I’m going for a soft poach with a runny yolk with white rice.

Mention good, but white rice and runny yolk.

Chicken Kara Age, £5.

Soft-shell Crab Kara Age, £6.

The crab was great, while the chicken was a little too salty, but generally the fried dishes has it’s heart is in the right place. Big portions, the crab looks like its fresh and whole.

Hirata Buns, £6.

I loved this. Some might take the opinion that the dough is too sticky, too rich, maybe even a touch under-steamed. A little on the queasy side and perhaps too generous with the mayonnaise, but I love it for exactly those reasons. These were pockets of sinful indulgence which I really enjoyed.

Gyoza, £5.

Oh and the gyozas are pretty good as well.

Matcha Mochi, £3.50.

The ice creams are own-made apparently, they taste like matcha infused white chocolate to me, even if it took a bit of time for it to defrost on the table.

We paid £36.63 on 1st visit and we paid £39.82 on the 2nd visit, both was a meal for two.

I am truly delighted to see this rise in Asian one pot meal coming into the spotlight. Shoryu does remind me of the (global) Ippudo chain, itself merely a benchmark for ticking the basic boxes, and I suppose this is a version of Japanese fast food. Over there, pre-pay machines have replaced the post-meal bill, like pre-paying for cinema tickets, and take no reservations. While I was in Tokyo, there seemed to be a noodle bar at every other street corner. Some entertained long queues, and we joined in based on the social proof, other times we just ducked into the nearest one when we felt peckish but we never ate a bad bowl of noodles. Broths over there seem to carry more depth and this standard seemed the norm over there, or so it was to our unseasoned palates. It’s pretty obvious that London ramen has a lot of catching up to do, but I do think Shoryu and its peers have set off with the right intentions and the product so far is great. The bottom line is that this is comfort food pieced together with solid recipes, good ingredients and sold at competitive prices. More please.

So ….how long before we get tsuke-men then?

Details

Shoryu
Ramen, £18pp
9 Regent St SW1Y 4LR
Tube: Piccadilly Circus

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Happy new year! So how are we all finding 2013 so far? All good I hope, and I also hope you made the most to completely over do it over the holiday period. In the Leong household, we opted out of the usual cote de boeuf and decided on iberico pork pluma, bought from the new(ish) Scotch butcher at Selfridges. Sliced thickly and pan-fried to medium rare – Pizarro style – I finished off with a coating of Italian white truffle butter (turns out to be multi-purpose, as they work well for breakfast eggs the next morning too). This made the already rich, oozing and overwhelming fatty pork even more shockingly intense. But dammit, it was exactly the kind of over the top gluttony that I expected for Christmas. I thought this particular cut from the hallowed breed shared loads of similarities with Wagyu, but substantially cheaper than its bovine counterpart, Japanese or otherwise.

Which brings me to talk of Caravan’s excellent New Zealand reared wagyu, supplied by Firstlight, which considering the pedigree, appears completely underpriced, and at current prices, an absolute steal given the quality of meat on offer. At present, it is only represented as a single rib-eye dish and it probably won’t (yet) undo the Goodmans and Hawksmoors in London. But I do wonder if FL’s produce might one day find itself on a Goodman chalkboard.

You already know about the fancy rejuvenation work that is being developed in the King’s Cross area, and the Granary building which Caravan finds itself in, reflecting the general impressionable upgrades to the area. This blend of heritage and modernity, of classed up listed buildings, which I suppose is where the next generation of young and hip will come to inhabit in the near future.

It is a minor commute for me to travel east of Holborn for a meal, so I never bothered with the original Caravan when it opened a couple of years ago in Exmouth market. In that time, these folk have built a glowing reputation for serving up vibrant recipes and presumably have realized enough financial success to expand with this Kings Cross outpost. By now, every new restaurant is designed with post-hipsters in mind. This converted factory, exposed brick, tungsten lamp, unpolished wood and dusted up rusted steel look is present througout the decor. It may not be unique but it still looks impressive, especially with the tall, warehouse ceiling. In the end it creates a nice messhall-like ambiance. The menu is… global I suppose, a highlight reel of delectable sorts calibrated for London palates.

The photos in this post were taken from our first visit to Caravan, sometime in Mid November last year. We’ve made subsequent visits since and seen a few changes to the menu.

Let’s do this in reverse order, and start with the very excellent wagyu ribeye steak.

Firstlight Wagyu rib eye, horseradish, parsnip, chard £15.50.

They must have a cracking deal going with Firstlight because I believe this is categorically the highest quality steak dinner I have come across for under twenty quid.

To my palate, the NZ reared wagyu has all those hallmarks which has made wagyu famous – buttery, oozing nutty tenderness, it reminded me of my trip to Kobe when I ate its A511 rated Japanese counterpart, but this was a tenth of that asking price. OK, it may not as soft or as ridiculously well-marbled as the Japanese stuff or even the imported Oz wagyu, but I doubt anyone is keeping score when this is only £15.50. How they manage sell such quality beef at that price is absolutely mind boggling. So I fully commend Caravan on this and will continue to exploit this dish as often as I can, while it still lasts.

We’ve been back four or five times now since November and I’m happy to report that the quality of the meat is holding. Recipes seem to be shifting with the seasons and when I visited last week, they had done away with the glob of horseradish cream with a smoke laden mash. However, as with many restaurants, as the business matures, the portions appear to be slowly shrinking with time. At least prices have held firm. For now.

Grits, girolles, pecorino, truffle oil, £6.00

I really enjoyed this mushroom polenta porridge powered by cheese and truffle, ensuring every spoonful to be umami-filled.

On another visit, I thought the deep-fried duck egg, babaganoush, chorizo oil was excellent.

Jalapeno corn bread, chipotle butter £3.50

Of the small(er) plates, the warm corn bread with chunk of just melting spicy butter will fill you up quick, but it is absolutely delicious.

You’ve also got to get the cold, creamy burrata (£4.50) to start things off. Dressed with a few drops of basil oil, it is blissfully refreshing, simple as it may be, but I am partial to fresh cheese.

On balance, I think the food is great you know, though there were a couple which made me shrug my shoulders. The char-grilled lemongrass pork (£6.50) for instance was a bit of a let down.

Mackerel fillet, avocado, corn, coriander salsa, £6.50

Loved this mackerel dish on the first visit, when they served with avocado – all very flaky, juicy and nicely seasoned. But on subsequent visits, the recipe changed up and I feel its fallen behind.

We ordered a pizza on this visit and while decent, I think it is probably more worth to try the variety in the menu rather than to load up on the carbs. Most of the pizza ended up in a doggie bag after the meal. (I enjoyed it the next morning with lashings of truffle butter.)

The bill was £99.34 for two during the first visit. Subsequent visits were a little lower, averaging £40pp… so we probably over-ordered during the first meal.

Believe the hype. Caravan (Kings Cross) is brilliant. Based on a few visits there, I feel this is a solid restaurant with a diverse menu that offers something for everyone, and a ‘non-occasion’ place which you might find yourself revisiting when you tire of your routine weeknight cooking. Food quality, generally speaking is high, with fair portions that are well-priced, even considering the small plates. And I think it’s absolutely the perfect venue for those of you seeking to rekindled previously deadened friendships at the start of the new year.

Details

Caravan King’s Cross
Urban.. £40pp
1 Granary Square (Off Goods Way) N1C 4AA
TEL: 020 7101 7661
Tube: King’s Cross

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2012 has also entertained the rise of Ramen. The three pioneers Tonkotsu, Bone Daddies and Shoryu between them have amassed their own set of loyalist, which is great, and so it’ll be interesting to see how this gathers pace. It must also have been a banner year for Pitt Cue Co, really they do fantastic ribs, and maybe they’ll have made enough to afford a bigger place to fit us all in.

But what I’m most happy about is the re-emergence of the French Brasserie – truly back with a vengeance. LOVE Garnier & the impossibly affordable Zedel. About the only new trend, I didn’t get were the Peruvian offerings. Maybe next year.

Anyway, so for what it’s worth, as I do every year, here are twelve moments in my calendar that stood out from the rest…

12. Dabbous

Lets get the obvious out of the way first. Yes it was good, bordering on great and it seems silly looking back to know that there was a time when this restaurant had empty seats during certain services. That was in February. What’s the waiting list now? December 2014? If there is truth to that silly booking policy, I think they should consider reviewing it and to limit it to a two month look-ahead. I never tried going back, but if you happened to snatch a seat, try not to read too much into the hype.

11. Ben Spalding, formerly at John Salt.

Last year, I added Ben to this list for a brilliant meal at Roganic and wrote of where he may end up after the two-year Roganic pop-up finished. But then he left before that time, earlier this year to do a 6 month residency at John Salt in November. I thought the setup was brilliant. He had an upstairs posh dinner menu; a stripped back downstairs chef’s table and a sunday roast modelled on his RoastSunday (also pop-ups) collabs with Daniel Young.

Things were running like clockwork on both my visits, and the venue itself is just beautiful, lovely ambiance, and as a restaurant experience, this place really had it all. It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of his cooking and thought what he’d done at John Salt was so good that it would surely last far beyond the initially agreed time period. But rather shockingly, after only two months, this project has now passed into history books. I even showed up to John Salt just last Saturday afternoon wanting to try the Chef’s table again, but we were turned away. I don’t know what went down there, but they certainly had a very good thing going while it lasted. Sigh.

So where to next for Ben & team I wonder? Guess we will have to wait and see..

10. Pizarro

Jose Pizarro’s KISS approach to his sherry bar Jose and his flagship restaurant Pizarro just works. The produce is always top notch, but it’s his vibrant recipes that give so much life to the food. So wholesome and just so delicious. The restaurant is almost like a mini-food hall, with an atmosphere that matches it. The portions are always generous, and I think the best way to describe this restaurant is that it feels so alive. After Cambio de Tercio, Pizarro is the best Spanish restaurant in town.

9. Shi Yang (Taipei)

It was all very zen-like, giving in to mother nature kind of way, and it was unlike any other restaurant I’d ever been to. We had to drive up the side of a mountain in Taipei to get here, and the staff do meditate between services. The food is meant to be nourishing and rooted in the Taiwanese heritage, best of all, the bill works out to less than £30 per person. If the Red Guide ever released in Taipei, this should be high on the list.

8. The Shiori & Sushi Tetsu

Japanese restaurants in London used to be these jack of all trades, indistinct, greatest hits eateries, but with the increasing popularity (and rising standards) , it’s given way for the specialists to thrive. The two stand-outs Shiori & Tetsu, are both owned by its chefs and both chefs have come from stints at the glamorous Japanese restaurants in town, namely Umu and Nobu respectively.

If you were after Kyoto-Style Kaiseiki, then you have to seek out Takeshi Takagi at his recently relocated Shiori (to Bayswater) as your first choice. For Edo-mae sushi, you have gotta try Toru Takahashi’s Sushi Tetsu. Modelled on those Ginza masters in Tokyo, dare I say it rivals Jiro, Kanaseka, Sawada, Saito in technique…

I never got the chance to write up my visit to Tetsu which took place way back in the summer when it first opened. I’ve been trying to secure a reservation ever since, but it’s all booked up to February 2013, so the earliest tables would be March 2013. The akami is the best in town I reckon, and when I visited, he blowtorched some kama-toro – fatty tuna from the neck – which left us speechless. He takes the time to construct each piece one at a time, scoring the fish, hand forming it on his fluffy and creamy shari, brushing it with soy or a better suited marinade to finish – mmm, raw jewels. Incredibly addictive. Tamago is left to the very end, like a pudding (custurd-egg) to end the meal, as it should be, and if I’m not mistaken, the etiquette – especially if you are on the Omakase – is that if you still feel peckish when the meal ends, the sushi chef will give you the chance to ask for one more nigiri (on the house). You pick your favourite. The best sushi in London.

Both are tiny husband & wife projects, both located in the least likely of locations and best of all, both show two very distinct facets of Japanese cuisine. I think both would be as successful if they had opened in Kyoto & Tokyo instead of London.

7. Hedone.

Yes, I need to be slapped on the wrist, and I do hope Mikael Jonsson will accept my apologies if what I said before had grated in the past, but I gotta say, I’m not in it to run people down. I’m no expert, in fact I know tremendously little about food, but I believe in restaurants doing something about customer feedback, and I try to be honest about what I think.

You may remember I went overboard when I wrote up the first visit in Sept last year and looking back you know, I still feel the same : I just did not enjoy that meal.

Of course, I’ve always wanted to return because surely all these positive reactions about the restaurant cannot be for nothing. And so I did, the week before Christmas and I have to say that this meal really turned my opinion around. The presentation and portions are still as anaemic as ever, however but the balance of flavours, the textures have certainly improved over time to suggest that there is something unique going on here.

Wonderfully delicate poached oysters with puffs of sweet granny smith apple foam. The tenderest slow cooked angus short rib complimented by an amazing dauphinois mousseline seemingly laced with a sharp blue cheese – I could smell the beef from the other side of the room.

I mean absolutely no disrespect when I say this, but Hedone still feels like the work of an interested home cook, who possesses an excellent palate, has eaten in many exotic restaurants around the world and is obsessed with getting his hands on the best produce possible. And yes, the dishes still feel as if it is slowly feeling its way through the business of hospitality rather than one that has sweated in it for decades. But there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s admirable for someone to able to turn a passion into a living. The result is a mind-bogglingly simple, straightforward control of flavour, and when it all comes together, the food does taste very good.

I still don’t know what it is about Hedone that provokes so much, is it because it is stoic? Too stark and just too serious? Sitting in there is really quite a scary experience. Even scarier when Mikael served up my mains and described the dish in the most serious tones. I sat at the bar and smiled throughout his description hoping he would reciprocate but got nothing. I’ve thought long and hard and maybe it’s just this tenseness it has to release, this air of superiority about it, like it is destined to win glamorous compliments. Thinking of the story of Hedone, it reminds me of The Sportsman, and the difference in my opinion is the feel-good ambiance of the latter.

It is one of those places which you either feel strongly about or shrug your shoulders and wonder what the fuss is. Believe me, I have been on both sides of this fence.

6. Roti Chai

You can smell this place as you approach the restaurant – those spices are just wow! It is quite ambitious in that it has two separate kitchens that services the two in one restaurants. Upstairs is an all day street kitchen cafe and downstairs is a more formal evening dinner menu. I think I prefer the upstairs menu because it’s lighter, fun, but the downstairs bit has some fantastic cooking going on as well. It doesn’t call for an occasion to visit, just when you either find yourself hungry after shopping in central london, or when you just need to clear the nasal cavity with some proper Indian food.

5. Alyn Williams

Fine dining is apparently (still) dying a slow death, but I think there is still an audience out there who appreciate the old-guard ways. Alyn Williams’s opulent decor – posh as it is – doesn’t do it any favours in the trend department, but saying that, if you still believe in playing dress-up for a special meal, this is the alternative to the Berkerley. But best of all, aside from Damian’s team at Gauthier, you will not find a friendly bunch at FOH than the one assembled by Giancarlo Princigalli.

For me, Alyn Williams’ restaurant is the sleeper hit of the year, the food is seriously good – How can it not be, after all, he did work for perfectionist Marcus Wareing for so long right? But also, I think for all you will read about Chef Alyn, he’s genuinely dedicated his career to his craft, committed to the art of hospitality, and he just seems like the loveliest bloke ever to run kitchens. I think he thoroughly deserves his time in the limelight and shouldn’t take long before he regains his 2nd star. Go try his restaurant, and as a reminder to myself, I think I will revisit again soon as well.

4. Domaine de Chevalier

And veering away from restaurants, last year I did coffee (still LOVE Prufrock Leather Lane), this year I thought I’d include a wine rec. DdC is owned by friendly folk Olivier Bernard, this is a juicy classed growth Bordeaux that’s offers great value of money. It’s far from being the most glamourous label, but it is my favourite Bordeaux.

Located in the Pessac-Leognan or the Graves region of Bordeaux, which are so known for their gravelly soils, a character that makes its way into their their smoky, gravelly clarets. This property has seen a surge in reputation in the 2000s for making lovely reds, but like the rest of Graves, these guys are also known for making flawless whites. White Bordeaux generally speaking doesn’t command the reputation of Montrachets, but that’s good in a way, because you pay less for some amazing stuff, which can age too. And they make very little white comparatively, 1000 cases to say 5000 of reds. Plump like hand polised grapes, dipped in honey and yam powder, then sprayed with peach and lemon juice before a coat of mango peel is applied. Whatever right? The 2000 is nice, but the 2007 is superb.

The reds are powerful in post 2000s, approchable early on, though I cannot vouch for ageability. Usually Cab Sav and Merlot blends, the reds are sweet smoky chocolate with a touch of spice. The ‘off year’ 2004 is drinking nicely today, but I cannot wait till the 2009 matures – that stuff is going to be amazing in a few years. Best of all, they are not ‘that’ expensive, £50 a pop. Yeah sure I love Haut-Brion too but my eyes water at how much it costs just to drink a bottle.

3. Gauthier

Been two years now, but it still remains ever present in my radar. I’ve gone back every year and I think Alexis has been stepping up his game progressively. This year he’s gone a little global with the menu and introduced a rip roaringly awesome dish. This crustacean miso-curd dish as he calls it with yuzu, caviar, seafood encased in a smoked glass cloche, is pure magic. The curd, I suppose, is like Bouillabaisse reverse-engineered into a seafood flavoured tofu. It’s just flipping brilliant. The best thing I ate this year, I reckon, he could nab another win back his star (thanks Peter) if he keeps improving like this.

2. Sushi Saito (Tokyo)

How good can raw fish be right? Well, I never expected to be as enlightened as I was, but I was bloody blown away by Sushi Saito. Possibly the smallest 3 starred restaurant in the world, found inside a car park opposite the US embassy in Tokyo, but possibly the best sushi I have ever had. Sweet, translucent morsels, jelly-like rather than fish, on a bed of warm also-translucent shari. Each grain feels individually steamed and then hand-washed with the purest water streaming down the (good) side of Mt Fuji, lending to this feeling of chewing on individual beads of precious pearl, rather than the ridiculous idea that it is simply rice.

Turns out good sushi isn’t just about raw fish, but about fish selection, then conditioning, then about the rice & how it is seasoned, and then about the hand-forming techniques, and suddenly I noticed a lot more variables to edomae sushi than I initially thought was involved. I just don’t know what it is, fish in Japan just tastes so much better..fuller..better. And Hokkaido sea urchin.. is SWEET, no bitterness whatsover! Revelation. I’m convinced that the best fish is landed in Tsukiji, accessed by the best Itamaes on the planet and that the best sushi in the world is found in Tokyo. There is nothing quite like it anywhere else… but how long before bluefin disappears from our oceans completely? Guilty…

1. Upstairs at The Ten Bells

I still love Medlar to bits, but this year, I am completely enamoured with the sheer magic taking place upstairs above The Ten Bells pub. This started off as a successful pop-up collab by the young chef collective The Young Turks & private dining club specialists The Clove Club but is now firmly rooted as a permanent restaurant. Isaac Mchale, Daniel Willis and Johnny Smith still oversee things, but the head chef over there is the very talented & debonair Mr. Giorgio Ravelli of Italian and Swiss origin. I’ve been back four or five times now, and every meal has just been applause worthy. Just so bloody good.

For me, I think it’s got all elements which make up the contemporary idea of eating out. The atmosphere firstly is fabulous, Tracy Emin’s work has never been more effective, Persian rugs, candle lights. Superb hand cut sourdough and a wine list of mostly natural wines, but also burgs by Mark Haisma (kapow!).

It walks the line between high-end theatre you might expect at more exotic restaurants and delivers the classic meat and potatoes, so you won’t leave needing to fill up with a kebab afterwards. For canapes, fried chicken nuggets (from thighs) presented in a pine tree bush, dusted with pine salt, served piping hot, crispy & fragrant like it was natural to stumble across them in an Alpine forest. For starters, the courgette soup is always a winner with sliced razor clams and a pinch of Indian spices. I’ve had this twice now and really do think its just so delicious. The tenderest beef brisket with blackberries & smoked marrow (if memory serves) that evaporates on the tongue.

For mains, glorious roasted lamb, beef & pork, slowly coaxed to perfect texture and ample juiciness. To finish, the reverse-take on puddings like the whipped blueberry mousse & tarragon cake (for a bit of kick) is just ridiculously delicious. Great recipes.

It’s an affordable menu that’s very well constructed and the food just sizzles with abundant energy. For me, this is everything a restaurant ought to be – great service, magic ambiance, truly honest but pitch perfect control of flavour and texture, and a damn good wine list that won’t cost an arm and leg.

I think if you measure a restaurant by how often you feel the need to revisit because you just enjoy eating there, then there is no question, this definitely comes out tops. We’ve entertained everyone we know this year at Upstairs by choice and so far it has only continued to impress.

So I hear these guys will open a new restaurant funded by crowdsourcing next year, so I’m really looking forward to that. But in the mean time, I’m hoping Upstairs will continue to stay as it is for a long, long time yet and – if the world does not end as foretold – I urge you to pay a visit when 2013 breaks.

So that’s it for 2012.

Happy new year, thank you for reading and for putting up with all this hot air I keep pumping out. Hopefully you continue to find unending pleasure & comedy in my abhorrent grasp of grammar. This is all supposed to be fun, when all is said and done.

Take it easy, don’t over-indulge and be safe through the holiday period.

See you in 2013.

Owned & operated by Chef Takagi-san and his wife Hitomi-san, this entire labour of love has finally shaken off previous trappings of having to pander to Edo sushi to fully embrace what Takagi-sensei does best: Kyoto style Kaiseiki.

They have expanded capacity from 6-7 covers to take a maximum of 12 to 16. Both Hitomi-san and Takagi-san each have an extra pair of hands helping on the floor and in the kitchen. The decor is of elegant polished wood, bamboo sliding paper doors, and Japanese style dining booths. It finally looks like a small family run restaurant which you might find along the side streets of Nishiki market. It is located in a completely unassuming street near Bayswater station and discovering it is just like discovering those famous little sushi-yas in Tokyo (like say Saito in a car park). You still get a view into the kitchen to watch Takagi at work, but it is no longer as up close and personal as the old Drummond Street setup – they have done away with the sushi bar which overlooks the kitchen.

This move has experienced a few weeks of delay, dragging its initial November relaunch to December, and I know a few of you have been anticipating this and finally last Monday, Hitomi emailed her distribution to let us know that they were finally open for business. So the missus and I decided to take two of my oldest friends for the second day of service.

When I was in Kyoto earlier this year and then sampling the kaiseiki while at ryokans in the Hakone area, they reminded me of my meals over the years at Sushi of Shiori. Save for ingredients indigenous to Japan – and yes, unfortunately the quality of produce in Japan is next level stuff compared to here – the style, the feel, technique were reasonably comparable.

Kaiseiki finds its roots in (the art of) the Japanese tea ceremony, deeply traditional and so too a certain structure to the way it is presented, and like many things in Japan, refinement, perfection, beauty and simplicity are adjectives which spring to mind when discussing this particular branch of Japanese cuisine. In many ways it is analogous to the theatre of French tasting menus but today I think there’s is much convergence in this globalised idea of high end hospitality.

Lunch menus seem similar to the original Drummond street offerings, but like in Japan, the proper heavyweight menus are offered in the evenings. Currently they are showing two kaiseiki options. The ‘entry level’ – Kaiseiki Hana (for blossom I think) is the shorter menu for £65pp. The top whack is the Kokoro (for heart or heartfelt, feeling?) at £105pp and the menu we ate from during this visit. The menus expectedly shifts with the seasons.

会席 志 Kaiseiki Kokoro, winter edition.

1. 猪口, Amuse Bouche – Black sesame tofu with Uni

The meal kicked off with a dense and gooey tofu concentrated with grounded down black sesame and apt for the winter. As you know, uni which is available over here will never be as sweet as the stuff from Hokkaido, but that’s ok, as the intrinsic bitterness is well balanced by the sesame. Yummy.

2. 先付け Starter – Simmered Haddock

Appetiser No2 was an intriguing one. Powdery texture, which we thought felt like it may be have been brain, or something. It turned out it was part fish and part roe.

Do keep your eyes on the myriad of beautiful tableware each dish is served on, which for me anyway, is all part of the ceremony (and fun) of a kaiseiki.

3. 小鉢 Appetiser – Marinated salmon with fermented rice

Knock out dish! Unsure what the salmon was marinated with, but it was salty and a little gooey too, with a kind of ‘creaminess’ imparted by the fermented rice, like cloudy sake (nigori sake). Rich, intense and garnished with some pureed chrysanthemum, if I am not mistaken. Very seriously good.

Sake: “Elegant Mountain Stream” , £68

The last time I took some friends to (the old Sushi of) Shiori was in the summer and amongst that party was a sake-skeptic, who held this misconception that sake was hard liquor. Sake is anything but and – to me – is supposed to be this very floral and elegant drink that has more in common with a Montrachet than Jack Daniels. The emphasis on purity. So we asked Hitomi-san to recommend the good stuff and look, I’m no expert, but I always ask for a Junmai Daiginjo, the ‘grade’ of sake for which the rice is polished down to half its size before fermenting. (See wiki).

In the end, my skeptic friend was obviously completely taken by this sake, seduced by the floral nose, the delicate purity on the palate …and all that.

So for this meal, I thought to order the same bottle for this group and luckily it also drew the same responses. Ultimately we wanted to find out if we could get it retail and it turns out the answer is yes, as Japan centre sells them for £54 a pop.

The kanji – read as Chinese – translates roughly to ‘Ya San Liu’ or elegant mountain flowing (as in stream) and in Japanese, I think it is Gasanryu. When you visit Shiori, get this bottle with your meal, this is the stuff. But failing that, consult Hitomi for pairings. Her wine & sake list is pretty robust anyway. I seem to recall a light red (a Beaujolais?) she recommends for the wagyu nigiri.

4.お椀 Seasonal Soup – Dobin-mushi

Next we moved to a classic wintry soup served in a cute dobin tea pot, for which you could pour out the soup and sip like tea. After you finish with the soup, you then pick off the shrimp, ‘shrooms and chicken thigh.Hearty belly warming stuff, the soup was incredibly invigorating.

5. お造り Sashimi – Lobster, chu-toro.

Takagi-sensei is well known for his beautiful sashimi platters over the years and here the dish is just a wonder to marvel at. Perfect cubes of chu-toro, sliced lobster sashimi topped with caviar and gold leaf, scored squid wrapped around herring roe, and the all-important garnishing of (tiny) flowers. I thought the lobster may have been poached quickly, but the better half thought it may be just raw sashimi. Either way, it was delicious. On the side, we were told that Takagi-san had fermented his own soya sauce and prepared the ponzu to go with this dish. Short of flying to Kyoto – it just doesn’t get much better than this in London.

6. 焼き物 Grilled Dish – Oyster, Yuzu-miso Dengaku

Speechless… great dish. The shell was still throbbing and the oyster was warming as it went down. That yuzu-miso paste was rich and punchy – not unlike chinese oyster sauce. On the side, a very sweet roasted chestnut accompanied. So simple, but so damn delicious.

7. 煮物 Simmered Dish – Snow Crab’s Nabe

Like a mini hotpot of fleshy zuwan crab, noodles and some rolled Chinese cabbage. Another invigorating broth, so much rich flavour extracted, this one could probably rival the best consomme in the city’s best French restaurants, in my opinion anyway.

8. 酢の物 Vinegared Dish – Abalone

On to the sumimono. My very chinese roots was in approval of the high pricetag being justified with the glamorous ingredient. I grew up being taught that a good abalone was judged by the tenderness of its texture: biting into this was like sinking onto a waterbed. Garnished with some sort of acidic jelly (Yuzu ? Ponzu? Admittedly, I cannot tell the difference) that was explosively potent. Kapow. Another memorable effort.

9. 握り鮨 Nigiri Sushi with own made soya sauce & ponzu.

Part one – O-toro, turbot and monkfish with liver

Flashes of Sushi of Shiori!

Yes, the brush was for the soya to go over the fish, rather than the rice, as it should be done. The shari was a little cold for this meal, but of course, Edo sushi is not Takagi-san’s specialty – For that, the reigning champ in London right now is probably Takashi-san at Sushi Tetsu. But who can say no to buttery otoro sourced from Atari-ya right?

Part two – Scallop with own-made truffle, Sweet Prawn with own-made pesto

Ah yes, I remember the own-made truffle paste. I’m so glad it makes a cameo in this meal – his truffle just goes so well with scallop.

Part three – Wagyu with mustard.

Blowtorched, but served without Takagi’s signature ponzu jelly from the old days, for this meal at least. I’m sure he will bring it back… he will have to!

10. 季節ご飯物 Seasonal Rice Dish – Unagi Mushi-zushi

The rice dish, which signals that we are near the end of the meal. I though the meal was well paced, around 10 minutes in between courses, but by this dish, we had sat for nearly 3 hours, so it was quite a marathon. This was something entirely new to me, steamed unagi on rice with bits of what seemed like chopped pickled mushroom, and wrapped in bamboo leaves – a nod to the Kyoto roots. It was bloody brilliant, warm, melting eel over hot rice, like a ‘Zongzi’ 糭子, that wrapped glutinous rice dumpling you eat during the dragonboat festival.

11. 留椀 Tomewan – Lobster

Lobster miso soup to finish…

12. 水物 Dessert – Own-made Hojecha, Matcha with azuki beans, Black Sesame & in-season Chestnut ice cream.

Ah yes, just like Drummond Street. I love the chestnut ice cream whenever it comes in season for winter, the earthy sweetness is perfect for the season. But I also love the bitter black sesame, with the doughy texture and rich flavour. Next step might be for Takagi to introduce cake with the ice cream, like they do at Kikunoi.

We paid £475 for four.

Another brilliant & memorable meal.

I cannot overstate my reverence, admiration and love for Shiori. I have always thought that Takagi-sensei and Hitomi-san’s little labour of love was a true gem in London, and today I’m so happy to see it blossom even further in its 3 years or so, and that it is also appreciated by like-minded individuals like you. The greatest thing about Shiori is this personal sense of commitment, this journey which Takagi-san takes in order to source, prep and plate, all worked on by the same pair of hands. There are no herds of chefs sloshing about a massive kitchen, it’s just one man, his pride, his passion, to make good of his training and to cook a great meal. There are no substitutes here, it’s just Chef & wife (and two helpers) and when Takagi-san goes on vacation, so does the restaurant. It makes sense, in order to provide this standard of personability, the concentration and effort these Japanese chefs inject into their food really does limit the number of sittings. This unwavering commitment to achieve some sort of personal perfection, is a most admirable cultural trait. It’s an idealistic fantasy of hospitality, it’s poetic and beautiful even, watching the meal being meticulously constructed by Takagi-san, piece by piece, remains – for me at least – a moving experience.

Shiori is a special restaurant (that thoroughly deserves bookmarking) and comes with my highest recommendations.

PS: Also bumped into SkinnyBib on the same visit, do read his blog post too!

FYI: From now till 22nd Dec 2012, they are doing a promotion to knock 20% off dinner, 15% off lunch or free bottle of sake, see here.

Details

The Shiori
Kyoto Style Kaiseiki. £65 or £105pp
45 Moscow Road W2 4AH
TEL: 020 7221 9790
Tube: Bayswater

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UPDATE – JAN 2013. *Ben Spalding & Nathan Holmes have left John Salt. Neil Rankin now runs the kitchen over there.*

So after last week’s blockbuster dinner at John Salt, I wanted to return and try Ben Spalding’s other offerings from his current residency at the Islington based bar cum restaurant. For this visit, it was for the bar menu offered in the downstairs, which takes no reservations.

I noticed that in evenings, the place gets fairly dark so last week, I was insulated from admiring the truly beautiful decked out decor. It’s a continuous massive floor plan, with a long bar, different ‘zones’ a sofa area, then some bistro style tables, with long booth style ones too, and I must admit, I much prefer the downstairs bit to the upstairs. As you can probably tell, you can sit here all afternoon to enjoy a book or read the paper, order a couple of wraps, a few coffees, etc.

The bar menu.

Initially, we chose to sit at the back of the bar, content to hide away in a comfortable corner to kill the Saturday afternoon. The bar menu is supposed to be much lighter than the upstairs menu, dishes averaging £7-£8. You could also choose any six for £34 which seems to work out to a substantial discount to ordering ALC.

So we decided to do that and were whisked away to the chef’s table upon Nathan’s insistence, as part of the tasting menu ‘package’ was for the chef to interact with his guests as he plated up.

Nathan Holmes, Ben’s sous chef in action, and point-man of the bar menu.

After an initial confusion about where to seat us – a mother really wanted her three kids to have prime spot to watch the chefs cook – Nathan greeted us warmly and told us to relax, pick up some reading material from the stack of weekend papers piled on the corner of the long table and told us about the ‘stripped back’ style of eating that was to come. Stripped Back being one of Ben’s summer projects this year, which takes away the formality of the eating out experience and all that, while increasing interaction with the chefs, which seems to be where things are headed these days, but which I still think is not new in a sense that this more personal way of dining has always been part of Japanese cuisine. (Gosh that’s a silly long winded sentence)

I was surprised by how little kit was at Nate’s disposal, a bunch of colourful tupperware tubs, a saucepan and a couple of those Gourmet Whip devices. I’ve written before that for this kind of intimate thing to work, it calls for someone with a skill in creating a non-threatening atmosphere , to take any seriousness out of it, and a skill which I think Nathan has honed. It’s totally the opposite feel to Knappett’s Kitchen Table, which is swankier but also feels more intimidating, whereas this chef’s table is so relaxed that even the kids at the table were just completely loving it.

Greasy chicken skin sandwich, paprika mayo, cucumber, baby gem, red onion.

Yes, soon chicken skin will be cliché, like beetroot is cliché, but until then, it’s terribly delicious when done right. Here the greasiness was well-balanced with the baby gem, and other picked things stuffed inside this reversed sandwich. It managed to taste more clean than greasy. Nice start.

Scrambled eggs, shaved truffle, muffin.

Nathan started handing these out to everyone on the table, which he said was just a few extra nibbles thrown in with the tasting menu. Look at the lump of shaved black truffle on those eggs. What can I say? Simple pleasures.

Pink fir potatoes, lemon grass yoghurt, bacon, crispy onions, chocolate.

A flashe of Roganic. I’m guessing the chocolate coloured sprinkles are chocolate. While I seem to recall a much more dramatic experience of vintage potatoes (from Rogan’s farm?) at Roganic, this was definitely no slouch. Delicious dish, and like all of Ben’s recipes, a balanced palate, of flavour combinations that work seamlessly together.

Fried machaivelli egg, smoked watermelon, aromatic ketchup, golden crumbs.

Fried panko! Underneath the egg was an oozing potato mash with little cubes of apparently smoked watermelon. Nathan tried to explain how they prepped the panko breadcrumbs (mention of a continuous stirring method) … but I tuned out as I dug into this dish. Yes it was a relatively stripped back recipe, but it was seriously edible. As seriously delicious as a classic Oeufs en Meurette recipe. I could easily have two bowls and only way this could be bettered for it to be served with a large soup.

Buffalo Mozzarella, warm maple dressing, brazil nuts, turnip tops.

I have no idea where these folk get their mozzarella from, but my god did they taste incredibly fresh! Like freshly whipped cream, bursting with rich milk flavour, enhanced by the drizzle and cracked nuts. Wooo. What a dish, loved it to bits. Better than mozzarella at Zucca.

Scallop broth, toasted almonds, kaffir lime.

We were warned by our waitress that this was just a bowl of soup with no cheweable bits of scallop, but nothing to be wary of – This was the best of this delightful lot. With an intensity of say a shellfish bisque with all of its shells dissolved into it, but a rich buttery flavour, like a bloody good bearnaise sauce, or something. And the dominating fragrance of kaffir lime – it took me back to Ben’s superb salmon dish from just the week before. Phenomenal, once again.

Warm original bean chocolate, jersey milk sorbet, salt baked pineapple.

To finish, a chocolate pudding firstly warmed up in the saucepan, and then spritzed onto the bowl from a gourmet whip, with cubes of baked pineapple and scoop of jersey milk ice cream. This chocolate ‘soup’ took on a fluffy, mousse-like texture than was bordering on liquid marshmallow, or perhaps like the soft meringue in a baked alaska. Simple but such a bloody effective plate of food.

Food plus 3 glasses of wine and 2 coffees came to only £54.05 for two, very reasonable for the experience.

Another brilliant meal at John Salt, this one being so relaxed and so very enjoyable. I can only tip my hat to Ben and his team for bringing their ideas to fruition. As for Nathan and Toby’s showmanship and ability in making the meal as fun as it was – that stuff’s priceless.

I don’t know how things will evolve or what would happen after the 6 month residency expires, but I guess I’ll just have to follow where Ben goes (and hopefully he continues to ply his trade in London). I think John Salt is superb, special things are happening there and I must recommend you check out both the upstairs and downstairs menus.

And for sake of completing the trilogy of blogposts, I guess I’ll have to roll down to try the £19 sunday roasts soon…

Details

John Salt Bar Menu
Stripped Back Food, £34 for any 6 dishes.
131 Upper Street N1 1QP
Tel: 0207 704 8955
Overground/Tube: Highbury & Islington

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UPDATE – JAN 2013. *Ben Spalding has left John Salt. Neil Rankin now runs the kitchen over there.*

It was only April when Ben Spalding confirmed his inevitable departure from Roganic, the long term pop-up, where he solidified his reputation as a next gen force to be reckoned coming of age. Since then, he’s spent the summer running two pop-ups starting with the occasional RoastSundays (which I tried) in collaboration with Daniel Young, and secondly his smart street-style Stripped Back project (which I missed), which took place at a school playground in London Fields.

I’m a fan of his cooking, you know, and there is no doubt that Ben has proven his talent in his field. Though what is most admirable about Ben’s stuff is his ambition in changing traditional ideas about hospitality.

With John Salt, he’s moved to another pop-up project, this time resident for a shorter initial period of six month, set across a large two storey space. This appears to consolidate all his previous work up to now under one roof, and is the perhaps his most ambitious yet.

On the ground level, the bar/mess hall serves an all day ‘bar food’ menu (ala Stirpped Back) Monday to Saturdays (any 6 courses for £34), sunday roasts are laid on for £19 with pudding. For dinner, Ben pulls out all the stops at the 25 seater mezzanine level, I suppose a continuation of his Roganic work, with choiceless menus by length starting from 4 courses (£28) , 8 (£56) and up to 12 for £84.

I went last Saturday for a solo dinner and noticed how the restaurant got darker as the night wore on with the bass from downstairs thumping progressively louder. So even though the subject matter is serious cooking, the venue is much less so. I have dispensed with the usual blow by blow descriptors in favour of a set of photo pin-ups made from the phone…no Leica at the table for this meal..

The 12 Course Menu.	Swedish bread and butter, three ways.
No.0: Crisps, marmalade mayo, dashi with 3 seaweeds.	No.1: 45 ingredient salad.
No.3: Hen of the woods, douglas fir crumbs.	No.4: Scallop, kiwi & culatello sandwich.

No.5: Chicken on a Brick.	No.6: Maple syrup poached wild salmon.
No.7: Vacherin cream risotto.	No.8: Heel of Beef, kimchi, cooking juices, carrot powder.
No.10: Salted cucumber juice, peanut butter, muscat.	No.11: Absinthe fennel, chewy rapeseed cake.

No.9 was a ‘warm spiced apple and pomegranate fizz’ spritzed from a brushed metal soda siphon – also a feature at Roganic.

Things got off to a flying start with the spread of canapes, more tactile than the norm: Crisps with a lemon-curd like mayo for dipping, a fried meat croquette accompanied with its own aioli and to finish, dashi served like tea, in a cup filled with – if memory serves – dried seaweed that unfurled as the hot clear soup was poured over it. Wooo… memories of Yamanochaya in Hakone. The 45 ingredient salad (served with 3 day soured-sour cream) could have been all gimmick, but turned out to be a playful example of controlled chaos; Flavours gradually changing as I worked my way around the plate.

Bits here and there looked recognisable from Roganic, but largely I think his recipes have progressed further, extrapolated and are just that bit more developed. Techniques seem New-Nordic modern, yet also vaguely Japanese-like. It seemed like key ingredients were conditioned to concentrate flavour, some things dehydrated then powdered (like organic own-made MSG, I suppose) and other ingredients left to pickle.

There were no bum dishes, I enjoyed everything I ate and felt each dish was a perfect storm of ideas, whjch appeared to fit in with the overall structure of the taster menu. The flavour pairings seemed uniquely ‘new’ and I felt as if a lot of care and focus had gone into constructing each dish. Everything turned out tremendously well, as if the result of much brainstorming, realised in a systematic manner to find that age-old sweetspot of balance, perfection and wow factor. It was not immediately obvious to me when it came to pin pointing the origins of these ‘new’ flavours I mentioned; Not entirely European or British nor did I think it was entirely Asian, though I did feel like it was a Le Fooding-type Kaiseiki. Or something.

Take the scallop sandwich, with freshly grated truffle at the table and with a cider butter sauce, that you could pick up like a sloppy mini slider. A bamboo steamer preserved a steaming hot towel to clean up the muck afterwards. That sauce was sweet but also spicy and fruity (Hawaiian…French??) Like seaweed cooked in kiwi juice that smelled of earthy like the forest floor – or something – which doesn’t seem like it should work, but it did, and it was delicious.

I also enjoyed the softly poached wild salmon in maple syrup, served with kaffir lime creme fraiche, ‘rotten’ mango juice & toasted almonds, making for a sweet-ish fish dish. The most intriguing aspect however, was this massive whaff of herbiness or spiciness, a fresh wasabi kick or maybe even curry powder. As it turns out, the spicy kick was from turnip tops, which according to the better half, is cooked with garlic and minced pork in Taiwanese cooking. Intriguing, nice experience.

And then there was the much tweeted brick course. Food has apparently progressed beyond just the interplay of flavour and texture, now that melting surfaces which impart flavour (caramel in this case) are introduced as the new variable in the edible diorama. The servers encouraged me to scratch or lick the solidified candied caramel. A playful setup yes, but I thought it held a formidable liver parfait, sweetcorn and crispy skin recipe that would have gone down just as well on cold white china. This decade’s ‘Sound of the Sea’ perhaps?

Above all, I was probably most impressed by the carnaroli risotto served in a Japanese-style bowl. Cooked in a rich vacherin sauce, with sprinklings of crispy duck skin that gave this lovely whiff of fatty fragrance and a punchy pickled juice which I believe was made from grilled cucumber vinaigrette & chive oil. You could smell this dish all day long. Who needs truffle or veal jus when you can replace those things with a set of ingredients that do umami just as well. I licked this little bowl clean after devouring all four spoonfuls. The chive oil was pure magic.

For dessert, Ben’s take on PB&J was masterpiece material. Spheres of sweetened peanut butter, grape jam in a crisp cucumber soup finished off with drops of mint oil. It tasted like PB&J sandwich, but in a cold soup format. As memorable as Knappett’s baked fig pud. Superb.

Wines were equally an adventure, I didn’t recognise any of the winemakers on the list, though it may that my knowledge of grape juice is in itself quite limited to big brands in wine. I started with a glass of fresh & fleshy 2009 Carnuntum – an Austria wine region growing the varietal Blaufränkisch – by a Portuguese winemaker, Dirk Niepoort. Then I ate the thumb-sized heel of beef with a 2010 Terres Chaudes by Thierry Germain. A Cabernet Franc from central Loire, which was so gravelly and precise, that it could easily have passed as a Pessac-Leognan. I thought service was top notch throughout, level-headed, friendly but not overbearing.

I paid £109.69, dinner for one which included service and filter coffee as part of the 12 course menu.

This was a phenomenal meal for me. Now that we are nearing 2013, this certainly stands out as a memorable highlight this year. The range of flavours displayed was just awesome. It’s totally out there but there’s enough reality, so in my opinion, it strikes a nice balance. Here’s one Ben Spalding fan thoroughly satisfied with his current body of work. And now to plot a return for the bar menu and a sunday roast …jugs of gravy & banoffee pie…mmm…

Details

John Salt
Modern. £34 to £100.
131 Upper Street N1 1QP
Tel: 0207 704 8955
Overground/Tube: Highbury & Islington

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You might have heard the name Yoshihiro Murata lately as he and Alan Yau have just opened Chrysan in London, to largely mixed reviews. Murata owns 3 restaurants in Japan, all of which specialise in Kyoto style Kaiseiki. Two are located in Kyoto and the third in Tokyo, holding a total of 7 michelin stars between them. Chef Murata is something of a living legend (so the internet believes), he is Japan’s starriest chef and is the 3rd generation to inherit the family business which began in 1912. Kikunoi means ‘Chrysanthemum well’ , and on his website, there is a nice exposition on how this name came about.

If Tokyo is urban and frenetic, then Kyoto is exactly the opposite: idyllic and civilised. The former are the originators of modern day fresh fish for sushi toppings, while Kyoto is known for its old fashion pickled sushi, such as the sabazushi ever present throughout these parts. The old capital shows its heritage and I could swear that this apparent idyll includes strategically positioned speakers embedded in sheltered walk ways along the high street, and especially inside Nishiki food market, that play out peacefully hipnotic muzak style tunes. It’s boiling hot in the summer, probably because of its valley location. It is also a beautiful city.

We didn’t plan for a kaiseiki in Kyoto as we had two Ryokans stays in Hakone lined up, but when we got there, we felt we couldn’t go to Kyoto and not experience its classic, structured way of multi-course dining. Through this trip in Kyoto, I had one of my favourite Japanese restaurants in London – Sushi of Shiori (moving to Bayswater in Late Nov 2012) – in mind the whole time, as Takagi-san’s cooking is based around Kyo-Kaiseiki. I avoided the original 3 starred flagship Kikunoi Honten in the Gion-Maruyama district because I feared my pockets wouldn’t have gone deep enough. This 2 starred one in Kiyamachi is less ceremonious than Honten, caters to a ‘younger’ crowd and Murata is said to enjoy cooking at Roan more than he does at the original. During our service, one of the chefs did bare a passing resemblance to Murata… but not enough to be certain that is was him. And it’s cheaper too.

Part of the Kaiseiki experience is being able to observe the chefs work across the open kitchen/prep bar, an intimacy not unlike Takagi’s Shiori. We were served by Chef Hiroki Maruyama, who spoke good English and made effort to diffuse any initial awkwardness.

The menu.

We went for the cheapest option, Y4200 (£35) per person. The other two lunch options were priced at Y7350 (£60) and Y10500 (£85). This is certainly truncated and pared down when compared to the kaiseiki meals we had at the ryokans, the number of main courses (distinguished by cooking process ie: grilling, steaming) were noticeably missing. Written in English, so its tourist friendly and personalised with my name on it, nice touch. As tradition would have it, this menu is meant to reflect seasonality and highlight Kyoto’s wonderful produce.

Hassun / Appetisers

We started with an intriguing selection of bite-sized appetizers, almost too beautiful to eat.

Otsukiri / Sashimi

Such clean flavour, such smooth, unbroken texture, great fish. Although, this is probably my first time of knowingly eating Koshibi (Meji Maguro) or baby tuna. Sushi/Sashimi in Japan is simply at a different level to anywhere else on the planet. Every meal – from the high end Sushi Saito in Tokyo to tourist trap sushi-ya in Osaka – where raw fish made an appearance, I had observed how the fish always managed to smell so fragrant and taste so plump and pure. There’s no bitterness, fishiness, ammonia release and no obvious sign of decomposition. Through conversations with chefs, including Hiroki-san, I’ve come to understand that restaurants utilise a variety of ageing techniques to augment the flavour/texture of the fish to get it up to a ‘serviceable’ grade. While cooking doesn’t necessarily take place, there is definitely more to preparing good sushi/sashimi than shrewd negotiation at a fish market.

Futamono / Soup

I don’t like dried tofu skin (Yuba), but this was just bloody fantastic. The soup had this wonderful depth of flavour not unlike that of a consommé. It felt like a great deal of raw material had been reduced into the stock to make this soup. Invigorating.

Hiyashi-bachi / Summer Salad

This was served cold…. and just wow. Maybe it’s that they have great ingredients to work with, but that eggplant, what an amazing depth of flavour. The concentration of root vegetable flavour, with a plump and juicy texture preserved. If I remember correctly there was a smokiness to it as well. The sheer balance of sweet & savoury was stunning. I’m convinced this was the best vegetarian dish I’d ever had.

Tempura

There’s lightness, crispness to the batter. Very clean, very fluffy. And I think with this dish, it also illustrated the quality of Japanese vegetables, in that you know what fried sweetcorn and fried sweet potato are meant to taste like, but this was just fuller, more complete, just better.

Gohan / Rice with Tome-wan / vegetable soup and Kō no mono / pickled vegetables

I really enjoyed the lily root soup. Creamy textured, not unlike a potato veloute but obviously with a different flavour to it. Rice in Japan, well what can I say. Even as someone who prides himself in being able to discern fluffy rice from the fluff, having grown up on Jasmine, I still think rice in Japan is next level stuff. Even the ‘high-street’ standard of charsiu rice at say an Ippudo is unbelievably good.

Mizumono / Dessert

The ice cream seemed resistant to melting, so paired with the airy chiffon, it was like spreading cold clotted cream on the sponge cake. It’s that depth of sweet potato flavour working to make this a satisfying finish.

We paid Y9450 (£77) for two plus a small carafe of sake.

Presentation in Japanese cooking with its obsessive attention to detail is unrivaled the world over, in my opinion. There isn’t a cuisine that is more beautiful to look at than the Kaiseiki. One that is designed to engage and to draw silent gasps. While it does seem like most michelin taster menus in the Western world are converging on this philosophy, I think the Kaiseiki distinguishes itself for being ‘refined’ in a practical manner. And like all good designs, it just happens to look nice too.

I think this practical refinement is inherit in Japanese culture. This strive for simplification, for specialisation and this need to be perfect at a craft, a skill, a discipline. Needless to say, this feeling of perfection extends to the cooking or rather the care in handling ingredients, chefs being in total control of their limits. The food just seemed so nuanced and showed so much subtlety, I hardly realised most of the meal was vegetarian. Above all, I think the quality of produce was amazing. But that’s more of a general observation. It makes me wonder about the other kaiseiki specialists, and the standard at which they compete at. Not to diminish London’s status as a culinary capital of course, but I suppose over there, its a completely different ball game.

On reflection, I regret not attempting the longer menus. To make direct comparisons, I do think Sushi of Shiori holds its own against this Kyoto heavyweight and I think Takagi-san is simply limited by the ingredients he has to work with, some of which are only found in Kyoto.

I also had two subsequent and very elaborate kaiseiki meals at the ryokans, Yama no Chaya & Musashino which were nothing short of breathtaking. If you like looking at pictures of dainty Japanese meals, take a look at my flickr set of both meals here.

Definitely worth visiting Japan just to experience its traditional cuisine, whether it is a leading specialist kaiseiki restaurant or at a leading Ryokan, there is nothing quite like it.

(Still can’t get over how ‘big’ the breakfast was.)

Details

Roan Kikunoi
Kyo Kaiseiki, £40 upwards
118 Saito-cho, Shijo-sagaru, Kiyamachi-dori, Shimogyo-ku, Kyoto-shi, Kyoto
600-8012
Tel: +81-75-361-5580
Reservations : is usually essential, and I made mine through the concierge.

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About 7 years ago, I lived directly above what is now Eric and Didier Garnier’s eponymous French brasserie. Back in those days, a Spanish restaurant occupied that space and I remembered it being a dark, old and musty kind of decor serving food that is best forgotten. So to see what the new owners have done with the place – clearing out the cobwebs and replacing it with a beautiful & nostalgic red, white and gold decor – is a little surreal.

There was a time when bistros were on the rise but the deregulation of tastes continued beyond timeless cooking and promptly died when ‘gourmerised’ American fast food started taking off. But I sense a revival in the making, after all, who doesn’t love a bit of butter and cream?

Eric is ex-Racine and at one time ran it together with Henry Harris. His brother Didier runs Le Colombier in Chelsea – also a Parisian-style brasserie – and before that, Eric has had a long career being associated with many a London restaurants in the past. In the kitchen they have enlisted Swedish chef Andreas Engberg – also ex-Racine – to lead proceedings and together this team has recreated the joy of the brasserie experience.

The menu comes in a nice retro red leather binder with laminated pages. The ALC isn’t cheap with mains ranging from £20-£32 but you DO get what you paid for. On the otherhand, the set lunch is exceptional value at £18 for two courses + coffee.

I like the wine list, it seems good value and have a number of reputed classed growth Bdx including stalwarts like Cos, Lynch Bages and Calon Ségur. (Embarrassingly, my knowledge of Burgundy is limited and the only producer I recognise on the list is Denis Mortet.) There are two very nice Pessac-Leognan labels, my personal fave Chevalier and the rising star Smith Haut Lafitte at relatively reasonable 2x mark-up, for a stellar 2005 vintage too.

On this visit, I chose a 375 of 2009 Le Colombier (£17.50) – the 2nd wine of Chateau Brown, also from Graves. It was typical of the quality and early drinking appeal of the vintage. A lush, candied nose, lots of dark fruits, concentrated but still pretty elegant on the palate with nice chocolate notes too probably from the Merlot content. Ultimately a tasty lunch red.

Roast Scallops, Cauliflower Puree, Pickled Girolles and Spinach (half), £12.

Oh the smell of pan-fried scallops. Sweet, toasted and juicy, just slightly transculent in the middle. Greatly complimented by the rich flavour from the puree and from the pickled mushrooms. So hearty with so much familiarity about it. Formidable and properly delicious.

Salt Cod Brandade (Set lunch)

There’s no trickery here, just hot, mushy, hearty, well-seasoned mashed potatoes with bits of salt cod perfect for spreading on baguette. Inviting and egalitarian.

Roast Hake (set lunch)

The velouté was absolutely divine, managing to be rich in flavour but also surreptitiously light. You could slurp this like chicken soup. The fish was of course perfectly cooked, perfectly flaky.

Grilled Veal Rump, Raclette Cheese and Pickled Root Vegetables, £19.60.

Who knew melted raclette worked so well with veal, which in turn worked amazingly well with the medley of pickled and pan-fried root vegetables. This contrast from the sharp sweetness of the cheese to the pickled saltiness from the vegetables was absolutely wonderful. I didn’t expect the veal to taste so good – that flavour of perfumed butter – nor did I expect it to be quite so tender, more fillet than rump, this was one of the best veal dishes I’d had in memory. Just magnificent cooking.

I asked how they managed to cook such great meat and the reply I got indicated that all credit was due to their butcher – how modest right?

Ïle Flottante £ 6.90

Ah… memories of Fontaine du Mars. An airy meringue light enough to float on the custard soup. It was nice but I wish I had ended on cheese instead.

The bill came to £92.92 including coffee and a glass of dessert wine.

I cannot believe how this restaurant could be so empty for Saturday lunch – only 4 tables on my visit. At this quality and at this level, Garnier deserves to be packed to the rafters for every service! Yes certain dishes seem just a little pricy on first glance but I think you really do pay for the quality of food. On the other hand, the £18 set menu is just a no-brainer – fabulous value for money and generous portions.

All the dishes we ate were classic. The cooking seemed so correct, every dish tasted like they were meant to taste. The similar feeling when I first visited Medlar, like rediscovering a lost love, the type of French cooking that leaves you feeling utterly satisfied. The fire in these lakes bubble with excitement and probably reason enough to compel a move back to this part of town.

One of the highlight meals I’ve had this year and a brilliant example of Cuisine Bourgeoise, in London. This is precisely the kind of neighbourhood restaurant that could become a regular weekend activity for me. Although if you had to travel, I do think it is absolutely worth the trek to Earls Court just to eat here. You could always aid digestion after the meal by walking to the museums in South Ken. It’s about 30 minutes to the V&A.

Take advantage of the fact that they are not (yet) busy over lunch. It doesn’t try to flog an untried gimmick or burgers and believes in old-fashioned things like non-sharing adult-sized portions and traditional technique. Garnier is simply a solid brasserie that delivers gratifying food. Highly recommended.

Details

Garnier
French. £45pp ; Prix Fixe starts at £18pp
314 Earls Court Road SW5 9BQ
Tel: +44 (0)20 73704536
Tube: Earls Court

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