I discovered Turkish cuisine in Belgium, where a mutual friend introduced me to this diverse cuisine. I recall quite vividly having parsley and cheese filled pastry – ‘Su Boregi’ – for breakfast and then washing it down it with strong Turkish coffee (or was it tea?). In the evening, we were whisked to what looked like Little Turkey in Brussels. Turkish restaurants lined both sides of this street, and for the curious gastronome in me, my eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

The restaurant we stopped in was neon-lit, had a singing fiddler and pianist to entertain as we ate. After the meal, I was intrigued with Turkish food, and consequently made it priority in my to-eat list when I got back to London. I know next to nothing about Turkish restaurants in London (or in general), out of my depth I turned to the wisdom of my trusted source, Timeout. Having relied on TO’s succinct reviews since about 2004 and having also once tried to hit all the red stars in their annual guidebooks; I believe most of what Guy recommends. I think with critics, it’s about following someone’s palate who is similar to your own, even when no two sets of tastebuds are really the same. In spite of the rise of many a brilliant foodblogs, I still respect the word of proper food critics, and besides, Guy does have twenty years of restaurant reviewing experience.

Enter 19 Numara Bos Cirrik I in Dalston Kingsland. The ‘I’ denotes the original branch, there are three in total, and I suppose a testament to its popularity. It’s a green star. In addition to being home to the ‘Pho Mile’, it appears that Dalston is also home to a vast array of Turkish restaurants. Numara is small, the counter displays the uncooked kebabs and next to it is a charcoal grill. There isn’t much to shout about with regards to the rest of the decor – shaky tables and shaky chairs. The menu is filled with abundant choices and I spotted a selection of Pide – the Turkish ‘equivalent’ of Pizza – which I’ve been itching to try since Belgium. Unfortunately, I was informed that the special oven that they use to make the pide wasn’t switched on during my friday lunch visit, my first Pide experience would have to wait. We settled for a couple of kebabs instead. A spicy chicken one, and the ‘Adana’ kebab – a spicy lamb recipe.

Each kebab is about £10, and I was surprised when they brought out all the dishes to accompany the kebabs. Sides included two types of onions; One in pomegranate sauce, the other in chilli. A large plate of raw salad and a large bowl of turkish flat bread with rice and a thin pita complimenting two huge sticks of kebab. I was expecting a quick lunch, but this was a right feast!

Woah – the kebabs are really delish. It’s toasty, smoky, spicy and chocolatey. A buttery texture and ginormous portions which left us bursting at the seams. I thought the spicy lamb was better than the chicken one, it had more muscular flavours in comparison, though I suspect that those who prefer more subtle flavours might prefer the latter. I didn’t really enjoy the salad, the citrusy pomegranate onions were mildly interesting, the flat bread was great with the kebab.

I spotted Turkish peperoni and egg as one of the toppings and am still a little torn that I didn’t get to try a Pide. Plus a can of Perrier and a bottle of wheaty Efes (Turkish beer), our bill came to just under £23. Would I go back? Oh heck yeah, the kebabs exuded a distinct smokey quality, the portions were large for the price we paid, so much so we hardly had room for dinner on the same day. And so my introduction to London based Turkish cuisine was a positive – if subdued – affair. The next Turkish conquest on the list is the highly rated Kazan in Victoria, and if you have a few suggestions for yours truly, do let me know and I will add it to the list.

The Gist of It

19 Numara Bos Cirrik £15pp
34 Stoke Newington Road N16 7XJ
Tel: 020 7249 0400
Nearest Rail: Dalston Kingsland

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Technorati Tags: dalston kingsland, london, restaurant review, Turkish

If you follow this blog, you’ll know that I am only the biggest fan of this sushi bar located in Ealing Common, a convenient and frequent after work spot for me. It’s been about a year since I last wrote about it, and it’s time we revisit to find out if it’s still the best.

I am fascinated with the ‘Kaizen’ philosophy of improvement or more specifically refinement. The attention to detail is like a quest for perfection where the summit is somewhere between an exacting science and aspiring art. A sweeping generalisation to apply to Japanese cuisine: Sushi looks gorgeous, tastes great, is all about attaining a state of umami and it’s healthy.

Sushi Hiro is the embodiment of the refinement philosophy – a sushi bar stripped to its essence only delivering raw fish, rice and not much else. The only hot stuff is tea and miso soup. There is never more than five working at any one time – two waitresses tending to the tables, and three behind the counter. The Itamae (sushi chef) is a jolly fella, he’s abit shy, but he’s the main man during both lunch and dinner service. When he’s not around, Sushi Hiro goes on week long, and sometimes month long breaks. He handles all the artful nigiri and rice balling work, as with all sushi bars, it’s always a pleasure interacting with the Itamae and watching him work his magic. He is usually flanked by two Wakiitas, one is responsible for rolling sushi, and the other slices sashimi.

I’ve been trying to take my brother to Hiro for what seems like forever, and we always seem to go when it’s shut. It closed for a month in September for summer break. We finally secured a booking for a Saturday night… but the Piccadilly line went down for maintenance. Rats. Determined to wolf down the freshest salmon in West London, we took the rail replacement bus out to ealing common. Naturally, we were running horrendously late. On the way there, I rang multiple times to assure the waitress that we would soon arrive, and on multiple occasions she rang back telling me to cancel. We booked for 6.45pm, but didn’t get there till 8. Half an hour left on our reservation, we thought that since we’ve already come this far, we may as well force ourselves onto the sushi counter.

Wary of time, I frantically filled in the order sheet for what we wanted to eat. Which was: eight pieces of belly tuna nigiri, two sea unagi, two river unagi, six salmon, two tamago, two squid, two turbot, two scallop, two octopus, a crab roll, squid & shiso leaf roll and finally, a scallop pieces roll.

The Itamae takes his time to craft the sushi and one should always expect to wait as he plates up his creations by hand. Luckily for us, a couple of reserved tables had dropped out, so it meant we could extend our stay. We discussed how the world changed while my brother had been away in Reading over a couple of glasses of plum wine. Fifteen minutes later, both of us were revelling in the fresh fish. My brother was amazed at how the fish didn’t seem to have a fishy odour, and everything tasted lively. Oh yes, they haven’t lost their touch, I was hungry and I was refraining from just swallowing whole chunks of nigiri and slowed down to savour every single bite. The rice was mild in taste, not too much acidity from the vinegar. Soft in texture, but hard enough to keep it’s shape, it wasn’t too glutinous so it didn’t stick to the roof of my mouth – it struck a calming balance. Apart from the belly tuna which didn’t seem up to scratch (it was falling apart in pieces), everything else was superb, my brother really liked the salmon, I especially enjoyed the luscious scallops.

The crab roll was a godsend. Stuffed with ‘real’ crab, the bouncy sweetness of the meat created a harmonious umami with the rice and soya sauce. The squid and shiso leave roll while simple, was probably one of the most unique flavours I’ve ever tried, its abit like a squidgy mint.

Finally the scallop pieces roll. This one takes abit of getting used to. It uses the chewiest bits of scallop which has a unique oiliness. I was reading up on sushi etiquette and apparently nigiri is supposed to be finger food. You should also dip the fish, and not the rice, into the soya sauce, as the rice soaks up much more than the fish. It’s an interesting article.

The bill came to £58 for two. Plus two glasses of plum wine, we put down £65 and still had change for tips. For the money, sushi hiro is unbeatable. The fish is superb, the rice is terrific, the venue could not be more atmospheric and watching the itamae work his magic is always a breathtaking way to end the day. A personal favourite, and one which I wholeheartedly recommend to sushi lovers everywhere.

The Gist of It

Sushi Hiro
1 Station Parade Uxbridge Rd, W5 3LD
Tel: 020 8896 3175
Nearest Station: Ealing Common

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Technorati Tags: ealing common, Japanese, sushi hiro

Eating in someone’s home is both exciting and a little daunting. I never know what to expect and how I should act, especially since the host has graciously opened up their private space. I suppose home restaurants are one of the positive things to come from this recession, or more accurately from the growing awareness of the online social conscious.

This will be my 3rd experience at a secret restaurant.

(Note: Please let me know if you would like me to take down any pictures.)

Twitter is a revelation, I continue to meet like minded food lovers online and it was through the magic of the interwebs, that I had come in contact with Lara. Of course, it was still surreal to have met her and Iain for – in the flesh – the first time. It was at a charity dinner last July – both are down to earth who live for good food it seems, and it was then that she told me of her plans to launch Sheen Suppers in her home. It took me a while to show up, but I eventually managed to squeeze abit of time to keep my promise. For this meal, I joined Euwen who was also planning a visit after reading about it at Essex Eating and Food Urchin.

We arrived as a table of four, somewhere in East Sheen.

The living room fit six tables snugly while we settled into the corner by the window. Lara’s home is exquisite and cosy, as it was a Friday night, I sank into the warmth of the living room. I was ecstatic about the wooden floors. The lights were dimmed and just the faintest hum of jazz in the background. We really liked the romantic ambiance and enjoyed whispering in conversation. Iain – Lara’s partner – was in charge of front of house activities, charming and articulate, he wasted no time in laying on the golden juices. While Lara was in charge of the four course menu, Iain was responsible for pairing each course with a glass of something, something – amazingly, they only asked for a £25 donation for this.

I remembered the first bottle – a gerwerstraminer from Alsace, to go with the first course of Pancettta & Prawn Pate, Cornichon Salad and toasted wholemeal bread.

Iain was generous – he topped up our wine … and I saw him do it for every diner in the room! Wow, I was quite impressed with the pate. Served cold – the hard paste-like pate was surprisingly well balanced in taste. We looked at each other, amazed at the quality of this dish and noted how this could have easily been a hit at a ‘real’ restaurant. The timing of the dishes was immaculate. With but short pauses in between just enough to get engrossed in conversation before the next course came.

Mains: Gnocchi with a Ragu of Shin of Beef, Broccoli with chilli & Sea Salt. I can’t remember the red Iain served us with – I think it was a Grenache (Iain/Lara – perhaps you can chime in?).

The potato gnocchi was superbly pillowy, and the warming beef ragu was divine. It needed just a touch more seasoning, but that’s only because we’re nitpicking, otherwise its perfect. We looked at each other again, in amazement at how slick this home restaurant food was. My my, Lara can cook and then some.

I had seen the photographs of the pink smeg fridge so I thought I’d pay a visit. Her kitchen looks great, Lara has one of those magnet knife holders – attached to it was also an itinerary of the night – very organised.

After a swift tour, we were back in our seats for the cheese course: Blue wensleydale, somerset brie, applewood smoked, oatcakes and crackers.

Iain had prepped four mini glasses of Taylor’s port, which was consumed before the pudding arrived of course. He was kind enough to top it up again. As he ran out of Taylors’ , he poured us an Australian example instead. After about four or five glasses (in total… I think), I was actually tipsy.

And finally, orange sponge pudding, white chocolate ice cream, dark chocoalte orange cup and some chocolate sauce.

The sponge was moist, light and as you sink your spoon into it, a zesty steam fluttered into the air. What a pudding, and what a meal.

I’ve always said that I admire the bravery of living room restaurateurs who are doing it as a pastime of sorts. I believe that it takes tremendous effort to put these things up – not to mention opening up your house to strangers – and for me, it is a precarious thing writing a ‘review’ about it, which I have tried to curb throughout this blog post. What I will say is that I had a jolly great time, the food was delicious, and the wine alone was worth it. About the only thing I regret was not meeting the rumoured fat cat who was hiding upstairs (I saw ‘Yoga for cats’ in the loo and wondered if he was stretching upstairs). Anyway, I expected a comforting meal and I can safely say that my expectations were completely exceeded.

I thoroughly recommend it, if you still haven’t done a dinner at a stranger’s home yet give Sheen Suppers a try, you might be just be back for more.

(Not) the Gist of It

Sheen Suppers
(Not) in East Sheen
(Not) in London
(Not) £25 for four courses and flowing wine

More photographs on flickr here.

Also, check out the blog posts about Sheen Suppers by Dan at Essex Eating and Dan at Food Urchin.

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So the new site layout is nearly done, whaddoyathink? I really like the full width feature box which runs across the new homepage, it lets me post bigger pictures. Woo hoo. Mad kudos to the designer Tim Gieseking. If you have some feedback (both good and especially bad) please send them in. This’ll be a short one, as I sort out the technical side of things, normal London reviews will resume on Monday. In the meantime, some pictures from a recent trip to Brussels.

The warming broth was seeped in deep flavour. The bouncy seasnails were a great snack as we walked around the city. The snail seller was positioned in front of the ‘Manneken Pis’ statue.

Here’s a money shot in the heart of Brussels. Very picturesque city, no?

Toward the bottom right the image (cut-off) is the fountain of the ‘Manneken Pis’, which means Little man pissing. This is one of Brussels more famous landmarks. There are several myths surrounding it; the one we heard was of a little boy putting out a fire (which could have burned down the city) with nothing but his piss. Potent stuff.

If you go to Brussels (and you love seafood), you must visit this place. I don’t know where it is on the map (google it), we basically turned a corner and stumbled into this. There are no seats, people just stand around, order whatever is on the board and just eat. I suppose it’s a seafood & champagne bar of sorts. Very cool. It didn’t look like the usual tourist trap as lots of locals were eating there, very friendly chaps I might add. We were struggling with the Dutch menu, ‘Vis-soup’ … fish soup …? A guy turned around and said ‘Yes! That’s right, great soup.’ and he chatted to us about where the locals go for proper food in Brussels and also beyond, this place being one of them.

The fish soup was cracking. Chunky bits of fish, large shrimps and deep seafood flavours. The rye-bread was served with a sort of soured mayo and grated cheese that went really well with the soup.

Very simple stuff and well marinated. The prawns were plump and juicy.

It was advertised as scampi, but these were more like mini battered fillets. It was fantastic, flaky yet buttery, the batter crisp yet flavoursome, and it was not too oily either. I hate to say this but it would put alot of chippies in the UK to shame.

Finally, here’s a shot of the guy on the hob. They ran out of what looks like tuna when we got there. It smelled so good…..

Have a smasher of a weekend and don’t forget to eat well folks. See you Monday.

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Technorati Tags: brussels, mer du nord, seafood

Fridays are always exciting for me, partly because the sun usually decides to come out to play, and also partly because I can put my work hat away come midday. We had planned to see the superspy movie of the decade based on dolphins, but hadn’t thought of lunch yet. That was until the enigmatic supercharz came to our rescue with Fay Maschler’s brilliant piece regarding the latest secret gastro project to hit the smoke.

Here’s what I know so far : Dock Kitchen was started up by Stevie Parle and Joseph Trivelli, the former, a River Cafe alumnus and the main man in the kitchen; the latter still currently at River Cafe. Not the average trendy living room restaurateur I suppose what with the pedigree. Dock Kitchen is a part of their moveable restaurant project which made its debut at The Dock exhibition for the London Design Festival. It has since evolved to become more of a permanent fixture at the Portebello dock, serving lunch on most days and special suppers on selected nights.

We had to buzz to get through to the gated property – a double storey glass encased building of slick lines and bold typography. All very uber artful to my non-designer trained eye. At the entrance, we were greeted by the open kitchen-cum-reception-cum-cake-table-top. The rest of the venue looks abit like a stripped down exhibition space with elemental aspects of bricks, metal and glass working oversized pumpkins as table decoration. It doesn’t really feel like a pop-up to be honest, but more like a stripped down cafe, very relaxing.

The menus are A4 inkjet prints – all very low key – finished with inventive copywriting skills. I was fooled into thinking the choice of ‘Aranciata’, fizzy orange was some sort of special mocktail, but no, its just a fizzy canned drink. Hmm, I’m oh so gullible. The food menu is short, sweet and to the point. Six dishes for the starters/main and five choices for puds. Between the three of us, we chose most of what’s available, except for the wild seabass over roast potatoes and white wine (for 2 at £30).

First dish: Dhal with tomatoes and curry leaves, mustard leaves and chappati bread (£6.5)

Ah, I probably should mention that the menu reads like the chef’s greatest hits from around the world – kind of refreshing. So we poked the dhal paste but the feedback was cold and blobby like mud. We had to send it back to warm and melt, but what came back wasn’t really much better. The mushy paste was missing flavour in spite of it carrying abit of a spiciness. The fine grain texture while good was uninteresting. The chappati bread tasted like undercooked flour, just forgettable and the entire dish felt lethargic to me. C’mon, we’re a nation which knows our dhal well and it’s not suppose to taste like this. Next.

Next: Dorset Crab on Buttery Toast £10, we ordered two… how can you not order two crabs on toast.

Now we’re talking. The crabs were fresh, flossy, juicy and tasted of the sea. I was pulling bits of shell out from the crab – like the chef’s way of saying fresh produce, hand made, yeah. Layered on top of tenderly moisten fennels and a fat slice of bread with a chunk of butter on top, I could eat three of these. I gobbled one, and watched the girls finish the rest, with envy.

Mains: Rabbit biryani – Farmed French rabbit slow cooked with tomato and ginger with cardamom Himalayan basmati rice £15.

Oh yes. This was another winner. The dish was very fragrant, a mellow spiciness – like the gastronomical equivalent of fresh laundry. The rice was amazingly fluffy, cotton-like, and just the slightest touch of spice hitting the back of my throat. The dollop of crème fraiche created an appetizing citrusy contrast to the dish, this was another which I could eat again and again. The rabbit tasted like chicken to me, although some bits were liver-like, mildly seasoned, simple comfort food beautifully cooked.

Finally: Two small red mullet roasted with tomatoes and wild fennel leaves with Florence fennel slowly cooked with olive oil and garlic (£16).

And the umami monster strikes again. The fish are beautifully presented, very smart in the way they kind of sit up on the plate hugging a cluster of roast vegetables. Fresh & flaky, the fishiness was expertly masked with the juices from the roasts. This rustic combo was very comforting and it was like being invited to try out new recipes at the home of a successful chef who cooks for the pure unadulterated love of food.

I know a lot of chefs who would relish the chance to work on these sorts of personal projects. Not have to worry about the bottom line but to simply cook to their heart’s content. A very positive experience. Not the cheapest lunch but not entirely expensive either. Not the largest of servings, but not paltry. Most of all, food was delish and the stripped down nature was a welcomed change to unnecessary grandeur. Dock kitchen gracefully carried out their minimalist approach. It is a wonderful venue and I think London needs more of these type of cafés/brasseries/insert your own moniker/chilled out eateries which just wants to fill yer tummies without the ceremony.

I really heart out loud, and it is always a pleasure eating with Charz, I owe you a burger (or two) for this one. Go visit already.

The Gist of It

Dock Kitchen Offical site
£20-£40 pp
Portobello Dock
342 Ladbroke Grove
W10 5AH
Tel: 02089621610
Nearest Tube: Ladbroke Grove

More photographs of Dock Kitchen here.

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Technorati Tags: ladbrove grove, Modern British, pop-up restaurant

Not everything gets publicised on the internet these days, especially the hyperlocal events, like this Taiwanese Food Festival which took place at Westminster Academy last weekend for example. I heard about it through my special Taiwanese counterpart. I love food fests, time for another photo essay me thinks.

Here’s what I think the premise is, this Taiwanese Food Festival rounds up the Taiwanese societies from various Universities around the country to celebrate Taiwan’s greatest gastro treasures, but first we need to exchange cash for foodie vouchers.

It is my first time at Westminister Academy, the festival took place on the uppermost floor. On my way up, I spotted the kitchen whipping up the food. That’s where the smell came from. Yummy, my tummy is growling now.

We got there early-ish – 11.30am – to beat the queue, there was a healthy crowd slowly building up. At the entrance, we were greeted by a dude wiping lyrical about Taiwan and their gastronomical gems. I stood there to listen for a few minutes, before my attention was completely diverted toward the food, of course.

True to fairground fashion, tables made for food stalls and each stall specialised in something different. I caught a rare moment when a food stall was unmanned and empty.

Before long, life would take over the stalls.

I loved being around so many people, the noise was reminiscent of the chorus within a food hall somewhere in Asia, instead of London. The atmosphere was building… and people were beginning to eat.

I don’t realise the gravity of the occasion. I’m not sure if the parents were assisting the kids or bit of both, everything smells absolutely amazing though.

I’ll try to cover the bases and the different variety of foods on sale (but not everything). The photographer in me was a little obsessed with grabbing the fleeting moments. These folks were bemused with the hunk of metal I was pointing at them, they were prepping minced pork rice, and beer.

And here, the boys were creating the atmosphere.

OK, time for me to eat. So, my mandarin is poor (at best), I can kind of read chinese (he says), I was in doubt, so I followed my nose to the most popular stall. There was a long queue waiting on this lovely lass, I fell in line.

This was what she was making – Gua Bao or Pocket Bun.

A puffy white fluff filled with slitheringly juicy braised pork cubes. I remember having this at a Night Market in Taipei, and this tasted really good.

Not everything was in English, so I ended up pointing to the stuff I wanted to eat. A little unsuccessful at times.

Crapola – they saw me.

Ah, here’s a stall selling a Taiwanese treasure: Beef noodle soup.

I managed to stay away from too much cake, but these looked so tempting. I love, love, love egg steamed cake. Looking back I probably should have tried a couple of slices of the layer cake as well.

High Noon and we are in the midst of the greatest crowd ever assembled. It was as if the entire Taiwanese community in Britain had descended upon Westminster Academy. Love it.

She is preparing glutinious rice, as a customer readies her coupons to pay…

…and here’s the finished product. Glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo leaves (I think) and otherwise known as ‘Jung Zi’. They usually come with a variety of stuffings ranging from powdered nuts, egg, braised chicken and so goes the list. This particular version had pork and chestnuts. A little bland, but with that magic chilli sauce dip it came with, it was quite delightful.

(I wear a Seiko Kinetic Artura which stopped working over the weekend, not happy, I need to mail it back to Seiko, but I don’t know if I can trust Royal Mail for that.)

I cannot help but be cheerful with this image. It is so humanistic, the boys work the floor selling their food. I wish I could read chinese but I’m sure one of you can help with the translation.

Another Taiwanese treasure – Egg infused with tea (via osmosis (I’d imagine)).

The third floor has an outside area. T’was a little gloomy, but it didn’t affect the families huddled around the tables chatting away over their food. I think the kids like the cupcakes.

Outside, there was also a stall selling Taiwanese style salt and pepper chicken. I gobble them up within seconds.

About 2pm, the crowd begins to thin and there are some warming moments for me and my camera. Oh and the dude’s white t-shirt, it reads ‘#@%$, I’m afraid of the wife’.

Let’s get a few more laughs in, it is monday afterall (at the time of writing).

And even the little guy is enjoying himself.

And so I leave you with an image which shows that the festival continues to roll along even as I leave them. Between the five of us, we tried quite alot of food. We were all alittle amazed at the quality of the food. Authenticity aside, most things were delicious and I was surprised that the organisers didn’t advertise this to a wider audience because it was a cracking event, for two hours last weekend, I believed I was in a night market in taiwan. I’ll be there again next year (the real thing and this one).

Well, I hope you enjoyed this. Photo essays are one of my favourite things to post. As you can probably tell, I love places with lots of people, especially when they are celebrating food. I think that is probably food’s most charming quality: it’s ability to bring people together. It’s times like this that I’m glad to be involved with food.

You can see the entire flickr photo gallery here.

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Technorati Tags: taiwanese food festival, westminster academy

Cast your mind back a couple of years ago and the emergence of the gourmet burger in this country, particularly London. I contributed my two pennies with a burger shoot-out of my own last year, pitching some of the well regarded burger bars against one another. Since then, the momentum for sleek burgers have subsided. And then I saw this post about what our NY cousins have for lunch.. oh man, it blew my insides away and then some. I am told that we are still lightyears behind American burger places. This year’s burger battle is a much more quiet affair, I’ve decided to focus only on the top two burger joints (arguably) in the smoke: Hache and Byron.

I’m no burger connoisseur, I haven’t tried every burger in the city (if I had I probably won’t be writing this), but I have tried most of the big hitters, and on a pretty regular basis. I live in a unique location in West London where I am within about 10 minutes walking distance from a Byron, Hache and two GBKs. Now, I’ve heard much about the Hawksmoor burger but that’s still on my to-eat list so can’t comment as yet. In anycase, feel free to chime in with a recommendation or two if you know something I don’t.

The Case of the Byron

When I did my burger battle last year, Byron was still the new kid on the block, but today it is very much ‘the’ burger joint, springing up in loads of locations (including twitter) and garnering many an internet fan.

One thing I really like about Byron is that they seem to take feedback seriously and make the little adjustments. Take for instance the mini burgers they once had on their menu – now gone, since people thought the portions were too paltry. Byron are also abit like zen masters, preferring to keep their menu short and focused on the delivery of ‘the perfect burger’. Prices start at £5.95 for the classic. Before we get into food, let’s talk abit about the atmosphere. I think it reflects the Byron mantra, steely, calm, controlled.

Alright – let’s get into the food: We have the blue-cheese burger, £6.95.

Let me just start by saying that I was the biggest GBK fan, the tomato relish is still unbeatable in my humble opinion.

I pick up a Byron about once a month (because its so close) and over the months, I had noticed how the Byron got better, and better and better. The bun is much like a floury sponge capable of soaking up all the good juices without falling to pieces. I’ve noticed how the bun seems to get better and better at holding the burger in when you take a bite. Right now, I think it is at that point where it’s abit special, and miles ahead of the competition (especially GBK). As for the burger itself, well its juicy, its beefy, its flavoursome and its sizzles; It is very nearly perfect to my humble palate.

The strength of the Byron is how all the elements gel together to form one consistent taste – a signature taste I might add – which leaves a real impression on you and makes you want to go back, which is to say that th Byron is something I can eat again and again and again.

I used to be Byron skeptic when they first came on the scene, but as the months rolled by, I actually think that they are continually refining the perfect burger and they’ve now got something distinctive.

The Case of Hache

Hache has universally been hailed as the best burger makers in town and few can fault them. Their secret to burger success, is to not to serve burger with their burgers…. They serve steak haches instead. As I said, I’m no connoisseur, but with Hache, I believe the main difference with their burgers is that it is made from chopped steak as opposed to minced beef.

I think the décor at Hache has infinitely more ambiance than any other burger place in town. It has lots of warming lights and it feels more like a neighbourhood restaurant. I especially liked that they were playing Ella Fitzgerald at the Fulham Road branch, it’s magic, especially on a lonely Wednesday night. I was glad that they have relaxed their photography policy, which really ticked me off. When I was there last week, they didn’t seem to mind my D700.

The Hache burgers are just a tad dearer with the classic steak au naturel starting at £6.95. Now, the Hache menu is much longer and has more variety. In addition to steak haches, there are fish burgers, duck burgers and lamb burgers. I was a little disappointed to see the cod burger being taken off, I loved it when I had it.

Anywho – I ordered the Sicilian: parma ham and melted premium mozzarella cheese, £8.95.

I asked for it medium rare, it was cooked as requested. Tick. The hache texture is rubbery and bouncy compared to a ‘normal’ mince burger. I was disappointed that my burger was abit dry and unenthusiastic. It was tepid and it didn’t impart that grilled sensation. Flavourwise, a lot beefiness but on the whole it didn’t feel alive in my mouth. The hache bun is probably its weakest link – in short it’s crap. You cannot palm a hache in your hand, this posh cow requires you to eat it with a fork and knife. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but compared to Byron who have perfected the dark arts of the burger experience, I think Hache has lost abit of its bite.

The king is dead, long live the king

I tell you what was smashing at Hache: the mocha (£2.50) , the deep chocolate infused coffee was a devilish way to end my meal.

I think Hache has taken a step back, I distinctly remember being properly blown to bits once upon a time, last week it was good but not memorable. On the other hand, Byron continues to wow, everytime I go back, I feel like I’m having yet another enhanced version of an already perfect recipe. I just get the feeling that Byron are obsessed with their product, and that can only be good news for this regular burger goer.

If you have yet to give Hache a try, I would still recommend it because it is still pretty special in its own right. But for me, given the choice, I would go to Byron again and again. Long live the king, baby.

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Technorati Tags: burgers, byron, gloucester road, hache, king's road

[UPDATE: Pierre Koffman is extending its run from 1st Nov to 27th Nov 2009]

I never had the pleasure to dine at La Tante Claire, the Chelsea based establishment which started in ’77 before moving to the Berkerley Hotel in ’98 where it stayed until its swansong in 2002. In that time, Pierre Koffman brought glory to trotters and had captured the highest accolade of the culinary world – the coveted three Michelin stars. Of course much of this is a bedtime story to me, taking place before my gastronomical awakening so to speak. Pierre had left behind a legion of hungry followers, for those who remember their LTC experiences can only heap high praise toward Koffman’s genius. And now Koffman has come out of retirement – albeit temporarily – with a pop-up restaurant on the rooftop of Oxford Street’s most famous department store. Originally a six day event to coincide with London restaurant festival, the response has of course been overwhelming and he is extending the already sold out spectacle till the end of October.

Since popping up, there has been a flood of internet buzz building around it. Those stuffed trotters are no longer just urban legend, for a fleeting moment in time, you could taste the Koffman genius once more. Given the occasion, I’d imagine many of the gastro fanatical would be in attendance. Along with my partners in crime Athos, Porthos & Aramis – we made reservations for a Monday evening.

From a dedicated lift (by Chanel in the perfumery department on the ground floor), I jetted up to meet the musketeers who were already seated at the propped up rooftop. Upon arrival, I noted the makeshift cream coloured tent and scanned the duotone decor: black bowler hats lining the white walls, black chairs on white table cloths, coloured by the antler-like light fittings casting a brown tint on the entire venue. The dapper scenery amusingly brought out the ten year old in me as I gave my dining partners two bigs thumbs up as I arrived. Perhaps it was the exclusivity, but we were delightfully buzzing out of our skin even when we were presented with the set menu with a £75 price tag hung around it. We kicked off by washing down our inevitable financial setback with a round of cocktails.

Amuse bouche was Pig’s head and celeriac remoulade. A mellow truffle infusion. We agreed to try a different dish from the menu in an effort to sample everything. This one was all about rejoicing ‘stead of reprimanding.

My starters was a game pie (I forget the posh name for it), a buttery yet crisp pastry and an almost pate like stuffing. Basic as it was, but very well executed. The rest of the starters all look wonderful to me. We stole small portions from each of our plates and every spoonful brought out ear to ear smiles, especially Euwen’s lobster bisque – it was like slurping on puffy clouds, magically sourced with a special cloud sucking device.

As we finished the starters, we decided on a 06’ Pinot from Pillot which the sommelier described as being feminine, a little tannic at first but slowly became round and soft by the time our mains arrived, which is to say that they took a while.

Ah yes, first things first: the famed sweetbread stuffed trotters.

Pillowy & intense, I was slightly disappointed it didn’t taste more exciting but it did remind me of Chinese style hotpot trotters which exhibit similar qualities with regards to taste & texture.

My selection was roast cod.

Fish was perfectly cooked, intensely salted with a buttery smooth mash –it was damn good fish & mash but not show stopping.

On the other hand, after sampling a forkful of it – I was tempted to reach over to gobble up Euwen’s duck breasts which I thought was really delicious.

Accompanying the set menu were also the specials prepared by whoever the guest chef was on the night. Bruno Loubet was cooking during our service and I chose to finished my meal with his pear and chocolate mille feuille which came with an oozing chocolate centre and a deep dark chocolate ice cream on the side.

But again, I was envious of Euwen’s pistachio laden souffle and ice cream. We looked on as the waiter filled the heart of the souffle with the ice cream. I gave up on my mille feuille as I went all puppy dogs watching Euwen lap up his majestic pudding. Eventually, I tried a spoonful and decided to end my meal with that memory.

I think that there is very little I can add to the plethora of reviews already floating about and which have delivered a positive verdict so far. In the end, my experience was a good one, Claire – Pierre’s partner – and the rest of the staff made us all feel right at home. Food was mostly believable but I hardly think that it was three stars blow-your-mind-up great, nothing made me weep or sing. However to echo Euwen and Silverbrow’s sentiments, I really had fun and the chance to sample a meal by a past master was well worth the entrance fee. I was glad to see Chris again (we bump into each other alot, even though I no longer follow him on Twitter (yes handslap for yours truly) ), and I was also especially glad to see Tim Hayward and Silverbrow among the diners, though I was positively estatic when Jay Rayner sat down behind us. It was nice to see the flesh behind the words (Tim looks exactly like his twitter avatar, very cool beard) and in hindsight I wish I had mustered up the courage to have at least walked across and say hello.

Ah well, I’m a pretty shy guy, but I’m sure there will be a next time.

The Pierre Koffman Pop-up restaurant will be at the Selfridges Rooftop until 31st October 2009, dinner service is all booked up but lunch is probably still available, deets here.

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Technorati Tags: 3 michelin stars, pierre koffman, selfridges

Forty five minutes after exiting Temple tube station, I am still wandering around the area. I could have sworn I have walked past Buddha bar before – which faces the river – but for the life of me, all I can see is a Walkabout. Defying pride, I finally make the call to the restaurant for directions; they tell me I need to keep walking right, and then some.

Ah, there it is, under a bridge.

At first I thought the PR bods were sending me to a cocktail bar for a round of drinks, even Buddha Bar’s website suggests a sort of lounge with a kitchen attached to it. My assumptions were only solidified upon entry – Loud, dark, body hugging waitress outfits and a cloakroom. The reception area is very cosy, probably suggesting an equally cosy restaurant.

And then I see this guy:

The music got louder and louder as I passed through to the dining area – everything I had thought Buddha bar was, well it wasn’t. The high ceilings looked at least a couple of storeys high, and it was dominated by a huge golden Buddha washed in dim blue and red light. My eyes continually scanned the room, it looked like as if the tea house stage built for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon had been converted into a club with the dance floor populated by tables. As my senses became saturated with the setting, I let out a silent ‘wow’, this place looks amazing.

For such a huge restaurant, they sure skimmed on the furniture and fittings. The tables were ridiculously small as it seemed to only just fit two menus. Flipping through it, I could barely see a thing. The light was terrible, so bad that the waitresses carried around mini torch lights while they navigated the dark like ushers in a cinema. Some diners were handed these mini torch lights, while I illuminated mine with an iPhone. I enjoyed the chill-out tracks oozing out from the ultra bass speakers but when I have to shout at my partner when ordering, that’s not usually a good sign for a restaurant. Our waitress brings around a bowl of edamame beans seasoned in salt and chilli – not bad. I ask for some water – leaning over – she still can’t hear me. Sigh, I shout louder. At this point, I can’t seem to take Buddha Bar seriously as a restaurant, the ambiance was becoming a distraction, and I couldn’t concentrate on my appetite, at all. In my mind, it’s still a cocktail lounge with a kitchen attached to it. Speaking of food, the menu is just about as confusing. They describe themselves as serving ‘Pan-Asian’ cuisine, which translates to sushi for starters and Thai for mains. Glancing at the menu prices which I could see, I was squinting to read it again as the prices seemed a little exorbitant.

The taster menu was available for £65 per person – equivalent to Michelin prices. I get the feeling that food is meant to be shared, everything is doubly pricy. Anyway, the sushi menu looked quite so formidable with a wide selection of traditional nigiris and sashimis, as well as a small selection of sushi rolls. Nothing in the hot starters section caught my eye, and so our meal began with a sushi selection.

The waitress seemed very proud of the toro (Belly tuna, the top of the list of sushi, and the most expensive at £4.50 per piece), she exclaimed that it was an item rarely available as their chefs only serve it when they get stock that was of high enough quality. I asked for two, she strongly recommended six and we settled with four. Accompanying the toro were turbot, unagi, seared lobster and wasabi tempura prawn roll. I also ordered scallop which never came and I believe that was drowned out by the music. As this meal was free, I didn’t really want to take the mickey and order too much. The sushi is terribly pricy, this platter had already clocked in at nearly £45.

I started with the wasabi prawns – not bad at all, a creamy wasabi mayo, the tempura was a powdery crunch and the rice had good stickiness. My mouth was beginning to water. Next up, the prized toro …. Ok, wow. It was surprisingly amazing. It disintegrated in my mouth, the quality of the fish was superb, oily, fatty, odourless; the toro was an absolute beauty that was cut to perfection. The rest of the platter gave the similar melt in your mouthness, the unagi was loaded with sweet soya flavours, the turbot was another smooth silk layered on rice and the seared lobster roll required eyebrows to be raised. I found myself nodding along, I almost don’t want to admit it, partly because I didn’t expect food to taste half as good, but also partly because I couldn’t see what I was eating; but dude….. that was one of the best sushi platters I’ve ever had in London. One expensive sushi platter, if for some reason my conscience hadn’t kicked in, I probably would have ordered eight more pieces of toro.

After the startlingly good sushi, I was really looking forward to what they could achieve with the cooking. Service was a little slow, we waited about half an hour before the food started showing up. Mains were roast black cod in sweet miso (£23.50), Beef fillet teppanyaki (£30) and crispy baby squid (£11) accompanied by egg fried rice and rice noodles.

Let’s start with the squid – yeah it wasn’t too bad, a little heavy on the salt, but overall good crispiness and flavour. The fillet of beef was so-so. Overpriced, overcooked and mushy. It came with an under fermented kimchi, there’s abit of mango flavour in the sweet sauce as well, where I expected sizzling smokiness (as it was advertised as a teppanyaki), I was greeted with a uninspired pan-fried dish. Ordinary at best. The black cod miso (£23.50) is a little cheaper than the Nobu original (£28). It looks nearly identical save for the drops of sweet miso on the side. Yeah, initial impressions exhibited the signature melt in your mouth flakiness with the deep miso flavours, grainy texture with just the hint of acidity. The fish was cooked well – just a tad under – I could still taste the fatty bits so that’s good. Its missing abit of the magic, a good imitation but an imitation nonetheless. Not as clinical as the original, the sauce is over smothered in my opinion, a tad too sweet, too intense and I think the fish needs abit more broiling. Close but no cigar. The side dishes were the dark horse – the egg fried rice was full flavoured and came with delicious large shrimps (lots of them) and the rice noodles were bouncilicious. The noodles were so consistent that the strands were impossibly long and hard to break – a good sign.

Um, yeah so just when I was about to take Buddha Bar seriously, the main courses let me down abit. Don’t get me wrong though, the mains actually tasted ok, there were no missteps or basic errors, fish tasted like fish and so forth, but it wasn’t anything spectacular, unlike the sushi. Although, I’ll note that the portions were deceptively large, we failed to finish everything on the table. On the whole, being mindful of how expensive this meal could be, I thought it was above average.

With food finally out of the way, I began to take in the rest of the unorthodox ambiance, its like a club where people are boogieing sitting down. I realised that the price premium wasn’t for the food, but it was most definitely for everything else. Buddha Bar is a swanky place to celebrate a special occasion, or more appropriately, it’s the swanky place to wow your first date. The darkness, loud chillout music and matrix-like atmosphere is the perfect distraction to hide first date jitters. Food is passable albeit overpriced; I would recommend sticking to working up the liquid courage and the sushi for food. Embrace the suggestive energy, feel free to be somebody else and really just have a blast. Inside Buddha Bar, everyone is leaning over to whisper something, and if you want to make that move, all I’m saying is that the stage is already set and you should lean over and make that move.

PS: Full set of photographs can be seen on flickr.

The Gist of It

Buddha Bar official site
£80 per person plus drinks
8 Victoria Embankment
WC2R 2AB
Tel: 020 3371 7777
Tube: Temple (and keep walking right till you see the bridge)

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Technorati Tags: buddha bar, chinese, Fusion, Japanese, london, temple, Thai

In between my kitchen waltz (see Part I), I was alternating with the parallel of events at the front of house, and of course, the two are completely different worlds altogether. I had arrived early at 5.30 pm when most of the staff were only just starting up. I stood at the front door, nervously waiting to be greeted by the owner. I hear the clacking of heavy leather shoes coming down the stairs behind me, before the man extends his hand.

“I’m Walter, welcome to Gazette.”

My immediate impression of this place is that of a charming neighbourhood brasserie. In fact, the restaurant is based on the ground floor of a block of connected purpose built flats. At 5.30pm, there are a few patrons in the restaurant tucking away swifties. The co-owner of the venture is Walter Lecocq who greets many of the patrons inside. As I arrived, he sat down for a quick chat to briefly talk about the restaurant and his background…

….while my eyes were drawn toward the cheese trolley…

Here we see Walter in a quiet moment before the evening service begins. He is mainly responsible for front of house, while Chef Pascal takes care of the Kitchen. Both men have good looking CVs, Pascal had previous been involved with Le Meridien and worked with Michel Rostang (2 Michelin Man), and Walter had spent a few years within Gordon Ramsay and Richard Corrigans’ respective empires. I have a brief but pleasant chat with Walter, and before long I got to work with the camera.

Here’s the restaurant manager who works in tandem with Walter to keep service flowing along. The control tower, the phone keeps going off. The books were looking good that night – A Saturday – completely packed out, those phoning in were put on a waiting list, in case anyone drops out. Looks like its going to be a busy night.

Just like the Kitchen, the staff at front of house had found my camera to be a light hearted presence, smiles all round.

I like this shot. Notice the accordian on the ceiling, I shot about 12 frames until got one of the movement which the waiters perform when they are on duty.

As the day slowly turned to night, so the staff started gathering themselves, to get ready for the evening ahead. Here we are just joining them for their team briefing.

The softly spoken restaurant manager becomes a calm force in the group, giving an inspirational mini speech to basically remind staff that its all about making sure that the customer feels 110% comfortable. Being among the numbers, I felt drawn into the spirit of the team – just being around these chaps, you could feel that they were commited to their job and they really wanted to give it their all. I enjoyed this moment.

I’ve always been curious about when staff break bread. I know some places (in fact I’ve worked in some places) where they don’t eat until 9pm when things die down. I also used to clean the bar and was taught how to make cocktails at midnight. Anyway, at Gazette, front of house and kitchen staff came together for their meal right after their team briefing. I didn’t want to interrupt their time, but it was really nice to see such a strong team spirit. They joked, they laughed and they probably thought I was odd. I work in teams myself and I can only appreciate when the spirit runs high, the sum of the parts when a team is functioning at peak, can really lead to something special.

Now is probably a good time to start wandering around and admire the decor. Spread over two floors, the centerpiece is this long family dining room tucked into the corner, sort of a semi-private room of sorts, its very cosy.

Night time is here! Time to light the candles and let the bokeh magic out of the bag….

It was amazing how quickly the restaurant filled up. At 7pm it was still relatively quiet, but half an hour later, we’re packed to the brim. The house is now jumping.

Of course, we have to sneak a cameo from the kitchen. The hazy ambiance outside, a total contrast to the engine room churning out the food. I had observed close cooperation between the waiters and the chefs.

Food is starting to fly out of the kitchen now, and it parallels the events which took place during part I. At this point in time, the restaurant was getting so busy, I felt it was the right time for me to slowly back away.

Remember that massive chunk of steak from Part I? Well, here we rejoin Walter serving it up to a couple. I like the fact that he is concentrated in his carving, but more importantly he looks happy with the bustle.

Walter tells me that Pascal and himself wanted to build a restaurant that was closely connected to its neighbourhood. It’s patrons were the the people who lived in the area, and having a close relationship with his customers was something he valued. I admire that, I think of my local and I love it because I feel right at home at The Prince Regent, and with Gazette, it certainly had a warm buzzy feeling. Walter also said that the restaurant is like a mechanism, and this mechanism needs to get into its rhythm in order for it to work. Sometimes, this mechanism gets thrown out of whack, and it gets a little chaotic, but it adjusts and when it does, the mechanism gets back into the rhythm again. I was so glad to have watched part of that mechanism at work, when the rhythm was in full swing, it was marvellous.

And so I think it’s appropriate for me to leave you with a photograph of the face of Gazette, more than anything this series is to highlight the men and women behind what keeps an establishment churning. I declined to eat anything for this personal project because I didn’t want to miss a beat with the photographs, I wanted to fully capture the essence of the restaurant and I hope that this snap-shot has done just that. As always, I hope you’ve enjoyed this photo-essay as much as I’ve had the pleasure of preparing it, and hopefully there will many more kitchen adventures like this to come in the future.

(Read Part I here)

Restaurant reviewing continues on Monday..

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