Breaking up with Ping Pong: Dim Sum Disappointment

Dear Ping Pong,

Sit down for a minute, we need to talk. As I walked from Waterloo station to the South Bank last night I had one of those happy, glowy "I love being a Londoner" moments. Hustle and bustle all around me, Evening Standard under my arm and a sense of purpose in the air. Soft as it sounds I couldn't remember the last time I felt happier with my lot. I even felt momentarily excited about the Olympics. Then I walked into your South Bank branch.

Oh Ping Pong! We were so good together, why did you have to change? Why did you remove all the good things from the menu like the dark coloured prawn and garlic dumplings that actually had some FLAVOUR? I mourn the passing of the wonderful five spice pork crackling which was so amazing and addictive that a friend actually once posted me a portion as a present to my office?! Why has traditional recipe pork and prawn siu mai become the rather drier and crumbly chicken siu mai?
Why have the number of meat-based dim sums diminished exponentially in the last 18 months leaving us with a majority of a) fairly bland prawn, b) fairly bland crab or c) fairly bland prawn and crab?

Why did you employ a supercilious, sarcastic, smarmy excuse for a manager/maitre d' when the old one was so lovely?

When did you start to think that it is acceptable to charge £6.95 for 4 tiny rather dry ribs drizzled with watered down honey liquid? I used to think that every pretty little morsel that I popped into my mouth was a bite of deliciousness but last night found myself thinking "well that was £1.80 per mouthful", was it worth it? And the answer, dear Ping Pong, was a resounding NO.

Don't misinterpret me, I don't hate you, I'm not cross, I'm just disappointed in you and doesn't that always feel so much worse?

Why do you serve weird baby poo coloured liquid described as "lemon and tamarind dip" with your prawn crackers, the flavour of which more closely ressembles Flash floor cleaner than any known foodstuff?

Why has the kitchen service become so erratic that recently the springy gelatinous dumpling casing has melted into a puddle away from its filling like the aftermath of a hydrogen bomb whilst simultaneously welding itself to the bottom of the bamboo steaming basket making removal of the dim sum in one piece an effort worthy of Krypton Factor status? What did I do to you to deserve such treatment, I just don't understand?

Why did you change the sauce on your satay squid by replacing a glorious, thick, peanutty gloop with thin and runny gunk at the bottom of the plate tasting vaguely of something a peanut once nodded at?

Why have a special section on your order form asking me what time I want to be out of the restaurant only to serve the bulk of my order two minutes before you know that I need to be gone (having been there an hour)? I love the idea of you but I'm just not IN love with you.

Why on my penultimate visit did the people sat next to me who arrived at the same time get 10 dishes within 10 minutes and I was waiting for many of the same dishes for over 30 minutes? You said that you were sorry and that you didn't mean it but it hurt nonetheless.

A lot of my blogging friends told me you were bad for me and that I could do better but I didn't listen, I was taken in by your charms. I used to love you, like REALLY love you. Ok, so you have never been a Yauatcha or a Hakkasan but that has never been your market. You used to offer reasonably priced, tasty dim sum served quickly along with a nice cocktail or two. But no more, your star that shone so brightly for me has ascended and crashed, burnt out. But the important thing is the food used to be reminiscent of proper dim sum albeit of a more fast food quality than the big players. Now it has gradually morphed into just a bastardisation of something vaguely oriental with the addition of Har Gau and Shu Mai to keep it moderately "authentic". This isn't the sort of dim sum that anyone on the back streets of downtown Kowloon would recognise and it is deluding and defrauding anyone who sees this is a real dim sum experience. I think maybe we should start seeing other people.

When you started out you were a novelty both in terms of dim sum and fast food. At the time London was comparatively bereft of cost effective quick options outside of the MacDonalds/ Starbucks/Pret model and you rode into town like a knight in shining armour. Now, however, there is a wealth of opportunity and choice in your market segment covering all the cuisines of the globe. Traditionally a good business model would advise upping your game as more competition enters the market, not to bury your head in the sand and cower with your tail between your legs. For god's sake man, don't become the Angus Steakhouse of the Oriental food world! Scrape yourself up, give yourself a good talking to, have some pride and give me my good food back!

On the upside your duck spring rolls are still nice but that's about it. Maybe in time we could try being friends but right now I think we need some space.

Farewell to the Ping Pong of old, you will be dearly missed. A bientot; it's not me, it's you.

Yours, with sadness,
S x

Bar Boulud, Knightsbridge

According to my non-city dwelling Mum there can’t be a recession if a restaurant is packed on a Monday night. I see her point but don’t necessarily agree. To me there are two other possibilities. 1) said restaurant is very good and therefore merits being busy or 2) you are round the corner from the hedge fund Mecca that is Berkeley Square home to bankers who aren't traditionally stereotyped as poor.  Or it could be a combination of both. Let’s see…

Upon entering we were greeted by not one smiling member of staff, not two, or even three but FIVE people. Quite the welcoming committee.  Bar Boulud itself was loud, very loud indeed, mainly due to the quantity of people crammed into the bar area. If a quiet romantic dinner is your agenda either avoid or make sure you get a table in the back room I reckon. It’s also pretty male dominated but for some reason I’ve never found that to be a problem….

I had been wanting to try Bar Boulud for ages having devoured one of my top 5 meals of all time in Daniel in New York in late 2010 but for some reason just hadn't got round to it. Weird considering I had been so excited at the idea of Daniel Boulud's first London outpost but que sera. Decor wise, I loved the wine themed art; stained glass windows in the shape of wine glasses and literal wine stains on blotting paper and the layout of the restaurant stops it feeling too huge and impersonal for such a large number of covers.

Bar Boulud’s menu is constructed  in quite a hotch potch kind of way where sometimes the price seems to be the only way of determining if something is an entrée or a main course- although even this doesn’t necessarily follow. There is also a very wide selection of food on offer, do they specialise in sausages of which there are many options? or burgers? or seafood? or charcuterie? Its a minefield but who cares, its all good. Due to this we ended up ordering quite a lot of food. Most of it pig based.

As a kind of pre-starter or “Little Bite” as they call them, we ordered the Croustillants de Porc- essentially pork scratchings, ears and some roasted crispy pork belly. No pictures this time I’m afraid as my iphone battery had bitten the dust- its a shame as the charcuterie really deserved a picture. The pork scratchings had a five spice/star anise type dusting which was much tastier than I had expected it to be.

We followed this with a large mixed charcuterie platter consisting of "Pâté grand-mère"(a smooth pâté of chicken liver &  pork flavoured with cognac), "Pâté grand-père" (a more coarse pâté including foie gras, truffle juice and port)some jambon de Paris and some other sliced meaty bits and bobs and tiny little onions and cornichons. My dad deemed the ham to be the best he had ever tasted and the Pâté grand-pèreto be excellent which is no slight praise at all coming from a man who spends hours smoking and shooting things (not in that order) and making various pies and terrines.

I had the “Piggie Burger” as my main and never was a dish more accurately named.  Of course two previous courses of pig would be enough for a normal mortal but no, I couldn’t resist the charms of a burger offering a topping of bbq pulled pork.  The burger was excellent on its own, nice and pink inside and oozing greasy loveliness. The cheddar topped bun made a nice change to the recent rash of brioche burger buns (not that a brioche doesn't have a valid place in burgerdom). In all honesty I wasn't getting much flavour in the "green chilli mayonnaise" but this didn't bother me as personally the highlight ingredient was always going to be the pulled pork. Shiny and rich with tangy barbecue sauce, the pork melted in the mouth and would have slid straight off the burger if not secured with a wooden stake.

Despite being a wildly inappropriate side order to have with a burger, I just had to try the truffled mash which at £4.25 seemed like a pretty good deal. It tasted sublime. Nice and truffly and clearly the chef had been following the cardiac arrest inducing 50% potato  vs. 50% butter/cream rule judging by the way it slid from its mini pan in a neat dollop on my plate.

Having protested that I couldn’t possibly fit another mouthful in (and in all honesty probably shouldn’t have) I fell foul of the temptations of the Coupe Peppermint. What was described as a flourless sponge was heavier than the description suggests and essentially a very rich dense chocolate brownie. Don't take that as a moan however as it was deliciously moist and the dark chocolate hot sauce and mint choc icecream were beautiful. Although chocolate based, it was one of the more unusual chocolate desserts that I have eaten recently. It was also the first time in years that I have breached my (admittedly very weird and utterly unexplainable) rule of never mixing hot and cold foods together - call me a freak but normally I hate it.

I really, really wanted to try the madeleines and macarons but even I have some limits to gluttony unfortunately.

There was an excellent wine list at Bar Boulud but I'm afraid all I can remember is lashings and lashings of pig. It was nice wine though and went well with pig.......

Ultimately, if you cook me a meal that involves pig, foie gras, truffles and peppermint chocolate I’m going to be hard pushed not to be happy about it (unless you mix them all together in one dish, that would be just horrid). Would I go back? Yes. Especially as they do a prix fixe menu for £23 for 3 courses at lunch and early doors every day.

So in summary and back to my two options from the opening, was it so busy because its good or because of the bankers? A bit of both I guess but definitely more of the former, maybe those bankers just have good taste!

PS Did I mention that they serve pig?

Casa Brindisa, South Kensington

In my last post I suggested that I thought I needed to eat somewhere truly terrible just to avoid being so constantly and irritatingly sunny and positive. It doesn't suit me. Try as I might I'm more a glass half empty kinda gal (usually because I've drunk it). Although Casa Brindisa in South Ken was far from "truly terrible" it certainly had enough fatal flaws to sharpen my claws on and ensure that I don’t visit again. Probably ever.

Now don’t get me wrong, I really did want to like it and I tried very hard indeed. I love Brindisa. If ever I need decent paella rice, quince paste, chorizo or any other number of Spanish ingredients, their Borough shop would always be one of my first ports of call, however that doesn’t mean that they can automatically use those top notch ingredients to serve up a good meal as V and I found out to our detriment.

Croquetas are one of my favourite Spanish dishes and as such I tend to have high expectations. Although they won't be taking the Croqueta Cup for the best ones that I have ever tasted the ham and chicken ones were good and consequently the highlight of the meal. Nice and light with thin strands of chicken and ham flecked throughout the creamy interior and just being held together by the crispy outer shell. I would have those again.

Beetroot and Picos blue cheese salad with walnut vinagreta had all the markings from the menu description of being very tasty indeed. The individual ingredients were indeed rather yummy. That said the salad had not been very well combined, lacked enough interesting dressing and walnuts seemed added as a sort of "oh bugger they're on the menu so we'd better add them to the plate" afterthought. Not a bad side dish though.

Baked goats cheese was never going to win any beauty paegent prizes and was a bit too sickly due to the honey it had been soaked in after being deep fried. It was quite tasty in a creamy rich sort of way and as a part of a tapas selection but even with my propensity towards rich and sweet food I couldn't have managed a whole one. Perhaps adding something tangy to cut through the sweet cloying cheese may have improved it.

Tortilla: Imagine a balmy summer day, blue skies punctuated by fluffy little cotton wool clouds, sat on a blanket with a bottle of something chilled and fizzy. Wouldn't an accompanying slice of cold tortilla be rather tasty? Contrast that mental image with a window table in a restaurant on one of the coldest nights this winter with other piping hot food on the table, and a cold tortilla is just disappointing. (I did check and it was apparently supposed to be served “between hot and cold” – it wasn’t.) Flavour was added by the presence of caramelised onions in the potato and egg mix but the brown of the sweet onions also had a slightly unfortunate aesthetic effect rendering it not dissimilar to an eve’s pudding mix where the apples have been left out a little too long and oxidised brown. In all though, it was rather hard to detect any distinct flavours in the tortilla itself as someone had drenched the dish prior to serving in olive oil Jamie Oliver stylee. This bath of oil meant that not only did the dish look greasy, but all I could taste was a strong flavour of oil which was a shame.  I’m convinced that had the dish been fresh and warm without the oil innondation it would have been a really pleasant tortilla (although sadly not as good as the one at Tortilla Trophy winners Angels & Gypsies).

Vegetarian bomba. £2.50 giant croqueta of vegetable, breadcrumbed and fried. Nice enough to make it worth its £2.75 price tag.

King prawns with garlic and chilli  The prawns were juicy and succulent with a sweet flavoured flesh although perhaps this sweetness was enhanced by the overwhelming burnt flavour of the scraps of garlic and chilli in the oil that they were sat in. There was no spicy kick to these prawns at all. I'm sad to say that I've inherited a pretty rubbish chilli tolerance level from my father however even when I intrepidly chewed on the burnt, dried out husk of a chilli languishing in the oil, heat effect was minimal. Not even a warm, tingly murmur.

Iberico de Belota Chorizo came served in thin slices and was a very generous sized portion indeed, so much so that half of it needed to be taken home and will certainly not go to waste. Provenance of great ingredients is not in any doubt here. There is, however, disparity in the pricing of dishes; five indifferent prawns for £8.50 or enough chorizo for four for £5.25. Granted the prawns involve more preparation but that chorizo was fabulous! Rich and greasy with just the right bite of smokey paprika, I would have been happy paying the same for a good third less.

Service was quite random, one two occasions the same waitress bought differing trays of someone else’s food to our table and tried to serve it. On other occasions catching an eye became something of a game.

The service lowlight for me, however was when dessert arrived. A slice of almond cake was served sat on top of an ugly smear of orange coloured puree. Rather annoyingly, I’m allergic to a variety of fruits and veg (not great for someone who enjoys food as much as me!) and therefore have to be a bit careful about what I eat so we thought we’d better check it out. Dialogue follows:

Me: “hi, is there any fruit in that sauce please?

Waiter 1: “No, its caramel”

Me: So you’re absolutely sure there is no fruit in there”

W1: “Yes Im sure”

*V proceeds to taste said orange sludge and pulls face- apparently its fruity but bitter*

Me to Waiter 2: “Hello, your colleague said this was caramel but it seems to contain fruit. This is rather important as I carry an epipen and have an allergy to some fruit and veg that can cause anaphyalxia”
W2: “I’m pretty sure it’s a sweet potato sauce”
Me: “Well that would be a problem as I’m allergic to sweet potato”
W2: “I’ll check but sometimes its sweet potato and sometimes they change it….. *disappears then returns*…….Its orange so you’re fine”.

Yes, I understand that those with allergies need to disclose it and I also get that kitchens do change sauces etc but a) I specifically asked what was in the sauce and was told the wrong thing by two consecutive waiters and b) they seemed really unconcerned about the possible ramifications of having given me incorrect information twice until I really rammed it home by pointing out that ambulances taking customers away isn't particularly good for business and can be avoided by ensuring that waiting staff know what it is that they are bringing to the table.

Our other dessert of Turron Mousse with PX soaked raisins was pretty decent and not bad value at £5.50 but more raisins please!

On the wine front the cava that we ordered was nice (my favourite non-committal adjective again). A glass of Pedro Ximenez Verastegui with dessert, however, was unlike any other PX I have ever tasted. Not in a good way either. It lacked the blast of raisiny, syrupy Mmmmmm that I normally look forward to in a PX. My fault really as I should have noted the description of "light in colour" but disappointing nonetheless.

In summary, Casa Brindisa really does have excellent raw ingredients. Their hams are unsurpassable. That said, any idiot can buy really excellent ingredients and put them on a plate, it takes a bit of culinary skill and alchemy to then turn those ingredients into something special and this is where Casa Brindisa just couldn’t make the leap for me. The true measure of value of a restaurant is when the bill comes. I have been faced with restaurant bills for several hundred pounds and not flinched because the meal has been so utterly excellent that I would happily have signed away the rights to any future first born child without batting an eyelid whereas on this occasion all eyebrows were raised in unison at £90 for two as this really didn’t feel like good value at all. Until my visit the name Brindisa had been synonymous with really good Spanish food but the South Ken outpost has not only shaken, but uprooted this belief. They really need to sort their act out if they aren't to damage the brand for the other stores and eateries. on the other hand maybe the brand is to blame, had I eaten this meal at an unnamed tapas restaurant I would probably thought it ok and not gone out of my way to return but I expected more from Brindisa, hoisted by their own petard maybe? Rant over, promise.

PS If you have any suggestions for decent weeknight supper eateries near South Ken tube send them my way!

Kitchen W8, Kensington

Kitchen W8 is a bit of a schlep for me from SW17 and after nearly half an hour winding through the side roads of Earl’s Court I was definitely hoping that Kitchen W8 would live up to expectation with a growing grumbly tummy. If the smiling welcome and warm, friendly service of the staff was anything to go by then I would be in for a treat with the food.

The interior of the main room of W8 is exactly how I would like to have my living room if I had access to an interior designer. Pretty wallpaper and gorgeous silver accessories and lights. It feels more relaxed, homely and welcoming than the more starched austerity of chef Philip Howard’s other London restaurant, the two Michelin starred Mayfair based Square. Perhaps Rebecca Macarenhas' expertise with cosier neighbourhood haunts such as Sonnys in Barnes and Sams in Chiswick has combined with Howard's culinary genius to create a match made in heaven.

Kicking off with a glass of champagne (house bottle is Billecart-Salmon or Francois Diligent for rose) we were brought an amuse bouche of cod brandade balls. The first one was mainly light fluffy potato but the second had lots of flaky fishy flesh. A delicate lemony flavour really shone through and transformed what would have been a pretty uninspiring canape into something delicious. 

A dish of crispy hen’s egg, pata negra ham, truffled lyonnaise potatoes with a hazelnut powder was truly one of the most perfect starters that I have ever eaten. The egg was served halved with the yolk still gloriously runny with a crunchy, dark golden outside. The saltiness of the pata negra cut through the unctuous, rich yolk. The black truffle topped buttery potatoes were little bites of luxury that I was really cross I had offered to share with H. This was a dish that I immediately wanted to recreate at home but know that it won't be a fraction as good. Every mouthful was a sheer delight.

Our other shared starter was a foie gras parfait served with blood orange and rhubarb relish and sourdough toast. Sourdough bread is everywhere at the moment. From those Fabulous Baker Brothers to, seemingly, every restaurant in London it has become ubiquitous. I’m so over it and so are my teeth, too crispy and rough for me. Foie gras parfait is usually the entrée that I would always naturally gravitate towards and this one was nice. "Nice" is one of those words that can mean so many things though isn't it? "Nice" on this occasion means "so/so" tasted good but didn't blow my mind. The texture was extremely smooth and glossy but for me there was a slight bitter flavour to the parfait itself (and not just the jelly or chutney). This was a shame as it made the dish that I had thought would sparkle into one of the only mild disappointments of the evening.

The "near miss" dish that came close to being ordered was a ravioli of oxtail with caramelised onions which I would very much have liked to sample.

We accompanied the starters with a carafe of Anton Braun Gruner Veltliner and a glass of Sauternes respectively. Both were reasonably priced and the Veltliner in particular, a pleasant surprise.  

My main was a steak with smoked red wine butter and. What appears (particularly from the photo) to be nothing out of the ordinary, was a complete revelation. The pink speckled blobs on the steak looked a bit curious at first but tasted absolutely divine. Butter is infused with pellets of reduced red wine and frozen before being smoked over oak chips in W8’s kitchens. It was the most intense blast of smoky sweetness that I have ever tasted in a dish and now I have a sneaking suspicion that no sauce or butter on a steak can ever compare.

Chips were a huuuuge portion (less than a quarter are in the picture!)and served as French fries on the side. H likened them to "Burger King fries at their best" which is apparently a compliment so let's go with it.

In an extravagant mood we went all out on the red wine and ordered a 2004 Chateau Batailley grand cru Pauillac. There is a reason why wines such as this cost the extra arm and a leg but it is so worth it on occasion. Gloriously smooth and velvety and packing a big fat red berry punch, its a Bordeaux that all too easily slips down the throat. The problem with drinking this sort of thing is it leaves me wanting more and preferably as soon as possible. Bordeaux is an expensive habit to get into!

H ordered cod fillet with smoked gnocchi, razor clams and chorizo. Although the cod was beautifully executed, the runaway highlight was the smoked gnocchi. Little fluffy parcels of smokiness that melted on the tongue. Razor clams added taste and texture and the sauce was essentially chorizo based providing rich flavour.

Kitchen W8 offer a comparatively limited but excellent quality cheeseboard. I hadn't intended on an extra course but with a third of a bottle of Batailley left to polish off it seemed rude not to.  Epoisses, Comte, Cropwell Bishop Stilton and Reblochon were duly added to the calorie count.

Dessert of bitter dark chocolate mousse with salted caramel ice cream (that salted caramel yet again!)hit the spot. The black wafer thingies were a bit bitter but the ice cream was delightful, smooth and sweet with a salty bite.  The mousse was delicious but if being hyper critical I would say it wasn't particularly dark or bitter but cocoa heavy enough to sate my palate. Blobs of thyme jelly added a really interesting addition to the dish and lightened the heaviness slightly.

Yorkshire rhubarb jelly and vanilla custard was nice but would never be my first choice of dessert (when there's chocolate on offer - are you mad?!) but H enjoyed it and with the custard it did remind me of the rhubarb and custard boiled sweets in jars in the newsagents as a child.

I completely understand and agree with the importance of using seasonal produce however one of the risks of doing this can be that your menu appears a little repetitive. Rhubarb featured heavily and was an ingredient in a dish option for every course as did blood orange. NB if the ingredient in question is truffle then I have absolutely no problem with repeated use, breakfast lunch and dinner, suits me fine.

I found that the thing that made each of the dishes that I ordered truly sing was the unexpected ingredient that popped out at you, with the steak it was the smoked butter and in the chocolate mousse it was the thyme jelly both of which had an intensity of flavour that really surprised me.

Would I go again? Definitely. One of the best meals that I have had in a very long time. Does it deserve its Michelin star? Undoubtedly in my opinion. Service is excellent and attentive without being overbearing, any fiddly questions that I had about ingredients were either answered knowledgeably or answers sought from the kitchen. I really cannot wait to return

Ok, so that’s two borderline sycophantic posts in less than a fortnight, I’m going to have to go somewhere rubbish just to have something to sharpen my claws on at this rate….

Angels & Gypsies, Camberwell

I had been looking forward to testing the tapas at Angels & Gypsies for quite some time having listened to local Camberwell dwellers G&S rave about it for ages. Camberwell isn’t necessarily an area known for its gastronomic delights so a Spanish tapas haven and some relaxed dining nestled amongst the fried chicken and kebab houses of Camberwell Church Street is a most welcome addition. Plus the simple fact anything that might involve chorizo excites me to a level that is not natural for a foodstuff. And getting to try lots of little dishes of different things.  And good Spanish red wine. And the list goes on…..

The restaurant itself is very laid back and the clientele when I visited on a Friday night were families or groups of friends rather than couples. The décor is rustic and warm and centres around a wood and ceramic tile horseshoe bar in contrast to the more contemporary chic of my other London tapas favourite Lola Roja.  A pleasant bubbling chatter of conversation filled the air without the need to bellow at your dining companions or have a diploma in lipreading. The waitress recommended around 10 dishes for a group of 4 which turned out to be pretty accurate.

Calamari Romana was crisp on the outside without having turned rubbery on the inside. I was initially dubious of the concept of orange aioli but you really did get a subtle flavour of orange working its way through to the palette which, whilst unusual, wasn't in any way displeasing.

The platter of Spanish meats included Ibérico jamón, chorizo, salchichón & lomo and was all of beautiful quality. The pickled vegetables served with it cut through the grease of the meat perfectly.

Chorizo sausage arrived as one big, fat, red sausage braised in Basque cider and served with slivers of juicy red peppers and, somewhat predictably, shone for me both literally and metaphorically.

55 day hung Longhorn beef steak was served sliced on black bean stew topped with a fried quails egg. At £9 a dish it isn’t the cheapest as it is essentially five small slices of steak however it is excellent quality meat cooked perfectly. The bean stew didn't rock my world but fleshed out the dish. A pleasant surprise was the horseradish aioli that came with the beef, not mayonnaise based as you would expect from an aioli, but just the right level of piquant heat from the horseradish.

Pork belly was very tasty with a good crackling on the top. Not the best nor the worst that Ive encountered but the plum jam served with it was a thing of beauty.

All A&G tortillas are made freshly to order so take a little longer than other dishes but this one was worth the wait. In many tapas bars the tortillas feel pre-made and reheated resulting  in tight layers of starchy potato bound by rubbery egginess however this specimen was a soft springy delight with an unctuous oozing centre.

The highlight of the meal for me was definitely one of the specials; prawn croquetas. The croqueta filling was very smooth  with a prominent seafood flavour and a spicy kick which was further enhanced by the accompanying habanero salsa.

The ham croquetas were also excellent with a nice crisp outer countered by a gooey inside although not as flavoursome as their prawn brethren.

Patatas pobres were a bit of a surprise, more I think due to my appalling grasp of the Spanish language than anything else! I hadn't realised that they would essentially be not quite crisp potato crisps and were rather greasy but one slightly less pleasing dish out of ten isn't bad.

Slow cooked aubergine and coriander stew was a welcome vegetable addition to an otherwise predominantly carnivorous order. Usually I view vegetable dishes as something of a necessary evil but found myself picking at the rich, soft aubergines more than I would have expected. A&G offer plenty of other really delicius sounding vegetable dishes so would be a good place to take a vegetarian if such a pain is inflicted upon you!

Whilst the dessert menu is quite limited in comparison with the ceaseless savoury tapas onslaught there should be something for everyone.  For example,  there are the churros. With thick chocolatey dipping sauce.  The squidgy, doughnutty sticks have a crispy, golden exterior rolled in cinnamon sugar and are essentially heaven on a plate (for anyone who has watched those lovely Fabulous Baker Boys recently, the churros were basically the chocolate sticky sticks). The chocolate sauce was made with good, dark chocolate and I'm ashamed to say resulted in me cleaning the coffee cup right out in probably not the most attractive fashion. It was just too good to leave a drop behind!

A very welcome surprise at the end of the meal was the hugely extensive rum menu serving a variety of unusual rums from round the globe. I am now an absolute convert to the joys of Pyrat. Not massively Spanish but lovely nonetheless.

I find it very hard to criticise Angels & Gypsies. It is never going to be a fine dining experience but that is not what they are trying to achieve. Service and ambience were both excellent and we all left pleasantly full without being stuffed and more than a little tipsy for our £50 a head.  I look forward to going back and that tortilla is going to be the first thing I order.

Dinner by Heston Blumenthal @ Mandarin Oriental

Dinner at Dinner was, frankly, long overdue. H had performed a minor miracle and secured us a table waaaaay back when it first opened but for one reason or another it was donated very reluctantly through clenched teeth concealed by a thin smile to the willing recipient Greedy Diva. Since then I’ve been itching to pay it a visit. So, what better way to start a New Year diet than with a meat fruit? (no, really…)

We started with a hiccup in more ways than one with cocktails in the Mandarin Bar. A delightful waitress came and took my order then turned on her heel and left. No drink for H apparently. Once resolved by a passing waiter, the drinks were pretty good. Not memorable enough for me to remember what I ordered other than the fact that mine came in a martini glass with the longest stem in the world. Ever. H's Apple Martini was pretty and packed a punch.

In all honesty the bar was a bit underwhelming and not “unbelievably cool” as per its website. Personally, I’d go to Bar Boulud instead for an aperitif or just have it at the dinner table. I’m also not impressed by the £5 “late licence charge” for non-residents after 10.30pm (although granted we weren’t charged for sticking around after dinner).

Moving swiftly on to the main event. Various online reviews of Dinner had commented on hostile waiting staff but we couldn’t have found this to be further from the truth in the restaurant itself. Our waiter was really keen to explain the history behind the dishes and how they had all had a team outing to Hampton Court Palace with Heston to see how dishes were cooked back in the bad old days.

Two dishes on the menu seem to be almost obligatory at Dinner, one being the meatfruit entrée and the other being the tipsy Cake pudding. Both were duly and promptly ordered. The tipsy cake needs to be ordered at the beginning of the meal for there to be time for the pineapple to roast and the cake to bake so there is a decision making onslaught early on.

The savoury porridge which apparently dates from c.1600 was interesting and was described as containing, snails, chanterelles, garlic and fennel. I’m not sure what more to say about it to be honest as I found it to be rather lacking in flavour which was surprising given garlic and fennel being on the ingredient list. The texture was all quite sludgy with little bite. I like to think I’m pretty imaginative when it comes to food however it was quite a frightening shade of lurid green. The snails could have been mushrooms and vice versa on the basis of taste and texture. I don’t regret trying it but would be intrigued as to how many repeat orders that particular dish gets! One final gripe before this post becomes more positive, but the way to make a £15 starter look bigger isn’t to top it with lots of cress.

Now you see a mandarin.....

...... and now parfait, magic!

The meatfruit was amazing. Make that AMAZING. It looks JUST like a mandarin- until you prod it then it is all cold and jellyish! I love the idea of reviving the 16th century tradition of concealing one food as another in a kind of trompe l'oeil fashion. The orange (peel) is a mandarin flavoured jelly which tasted just beautiful with the smooth, rich pink chicken liver parfait inside.

As a main course we shared the rib of beef which was a beautiful, marbled piece of meat served with its accompanying bits on a wooden board and it was cooked to perfection. (that said if it was specifically beef I was after I still haven’t found anywhere that beats Hawksmoor Seven Dials) The rib was served with the iconic triple cooked chips- great if you're a fan of super crispy chips. One of the real highlights of the meal for me was the mushroom ketchup served with the beef. Our waiter explained that apparently mushroom ketchup originated in Asia and was imported into and embraced by the British. When it made the trip across the Atlantic Ocean, for one reason or another tomatoes replaced the mushrooms and the rest was history.

Brown bread icecream with salted butter caramel and malted yeast syrup. Salted caramel remains flavour of the day on lots of London menus and I love it (although perhaps not as much as Nigella Lawson) and it was the redeeming feature of this dessert. The brown bread ice cream was not sweet and not savoury but floated somewhere odd in between. Wouldn't order it again.

Tipsy cake with spit roasted pineapple was by far and away the highlight of the meal for both H and me. The yeasty, gooey,  pudding arrived in its own cast iron ramekin topped with a golden sugary crust. Each mouthful melted releasing sweet custardy ooze. The pineapple was simply a revelation and Ive been trying to recreate it at home ever since. The length of roasting means that the pineapple just falls apart without any of the stringy, chewy down sides that pineapple usually entails. Cannot praise it enough.

Decor is sleek and modern with a feeling of space from the high ceilings. I loved the jelly mould lights on the wall and the fact that you could see the kitchen at work.

The clientele on a Sunday evening were pretty mixed between business and pleasure and groups vs couples but one guy stood out for me. In what world is it acceptable to sit at a table of six and have a large Bluetooth mobile thingy flashing in your ear throughout? The woman on his right got a bit of a look in conversation wise but who knows what his left hand dining companion had done to offend as he was out in the cold. To make matters worse, by the time we left the restaurant the Bluetooth had been exchanged for ipod headphones. Just bizarre.

If I was being hyper critical (which, let's face it I generally am) I would say that the breads on offer at Dinner are hard to the point that they err on the side of dental destruction and many dishes are quite salty. I’m usually quite a fan of salt but found myself glugging the water down on more than one occasion.

In summary I’m very glad I tried Dinner and think it is a great eating experience but don’t think I will be going back there. Not unless you could go and just order the meatfruit and tipsy cake that is.  The menu has been the same for quite some time now so I think it will be interesting to see how long they can keep up a full diary of advance bookings without having to make some changes as many of the dishes seem to have more novelty value than longevity of repeat appeal.

Burger & Lobster, Mayfair

I loved Burger & Lobster and that's why, bizarrely, I struggled to write this post. I'm not good at sycophantic and tend to veer more towards glass half empty than half full. In advance of my visit I had only heard good things about B&L, surely there must be something negative to write about it?! But there isn't. Really, there isn't. From start to finish it was one of the best meals I have had in ages.

Following what seems to be the current London trend, reservations are not possible. Therefore on a Saturday afternoon I was anticipating some lengthy queuing. This initially seemed true when an hour to an hour and a half was the estimate by the lovely, smiley lady on the door (such a nice change from many clipboards queens in no reservation establishments). What was a pleasant surprise was that you don’t have to physically queue, you can toddle off and await a mobile ‘phone call summoning you back. This is brilliant for several reasons: 1) you don’t get cold 2) you can have a drink 3) most importantly it doesn’t make other diners feel hurried or crowded.

Lobster implements at the ready!

One of my pet hates is the restaurant which misrepresents the wait knowing that you’re going to be stood there like a lemon for upwards of half an hour whilst being upsold drinks. I’m relieved to say that this couldn’t be further from the truth at B&L. We popped our heads in after an hour and a window table was ready and waiting.

Lots of other recent London eateries are currently very niche in their menu, whether it be burgers or bbq etc however B&L takes menu minimalism to a new level. Three options: Burger, Lobster or Lobster Roll. Admittedly you then have the decision of cheese/bacon on the burger or steamed vs. grilled lobster but that bit isn’t rocket science (cheese AND bacon please). The drinks menu is the main area that offers choice.

Like any committed carnivore, I’m never averse to a juicy burger but when both lobster and burger are on offer (especially when they are at the same price of £20) there is no contest for me, lobsters win hands -or claws- down. H, on the other hand, was happy to go down the route of burger so game on with the cow versus crustacean comparison!

When it comes to lobsters, for me, size DOES matter. My grilled lobster was thankfully a big, fat specimen- after a lobster-related fiasco at Claude Bosi's Fox & Grapes last summer, I've always been suspicious of lobster size. The next table actually laughed at me when they caught me just sitting and smiling at it for a minute or two. Lobsters are flown in live en masse from Nova Scotia twice a week then placed into two large tanks (which you can visit if you ask nicely and they aren't too busy). On the day I visited 600kg of lobster had just arrived. That is a whole lot of lobster.

On to the all important question of taste. Full marks go to the garlic butter that accompanied it. Warm and oozing a not overpowering amount of garlic, it was lifted by a gentle lemon flavour which truly brought out the sweetness of the lobster flesh. I've had garlic lemon butter themed dreams ever since. Maybe it says something about me, but I'm always a bit diappointed if a lobster is presented ready cleared out with the meat carefully placed back in the shell. Sure put a crack in the claws and halve the chap but let me do the dirty work digging out every last morsel of meat. I had my opportunity in spades at B&L and what I had thought might be a superfluous branded plastic bib turned out to be utterly necessary. 

The burger was excellent, cooked quite rare, particular praise was offered by H in relation to the pot of gherkins - the best ever tasted I was assured. *Warning* those who know me might be about to die of shock. It's an underestimation to say that I'm not a big rabbit food eater, cucumber repels me and watery iceberg leaves me cold.  However, the side salads that accompanied both burger and lobster were something of a revelation for me; simple but effective. Nice variation of dark green leaves, pretty little yellow heritage cherry tomatoes, strips of red and yellow pepper and slivers of red onion in a tangy dressing. For the first time ever I finished my salad. So proud.

There has been plenty of discourse over why anyone would pay £20 for a burger when a whole lobster is on offer at the same price but apparently the ratio of orders at lunchtime is current about 50/50 (although lobster tips the balance in the evening). It was a very good burger but both H and I agreed that on our next visit it would always be lobster.

If you were to put a gun put to my head and force me to find a fault with Burger & Lobster it would be the fries. Many other blogs have waxed lyrical about the golden crispy seasoned fries but, given the option, I prefer mine to be a bit softer inside and less salty. The thing about salt is that it’s quite personal; you can always add more but you can’t take away.

Two desserts are on offer; chocolate mousse or lime mousse so you had better like mousse. Served in a paper tub like a big version of a theatre ice cream, the chocolate mousse wasn't earth-shatteringly original but was very chocolatey and very tasty and that's all I need a mousse to be. After all the burger/lobster is truly the main event here.

The drinks list is not extensive but provides enough choice at a wide enough spectrum of price points. My favourite Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque is a comparative bargain if you're splashing the cash at £120 (on the basis its over £100 from a vintner) and wine starts from £15 a bottle. The cocktail list is fairly eclectic with a lot of egg white in there. I know that there is trend at the moment for old fashioned cocktails however I’m always going to struggle with the idea of raw egg in my drink I think. We tried the Bull and Beat (sp?!)  (Woodford Reserve, blackberry, raspberry, mure and zinfandel), the Clarges Buck (Chivas Regal, velvet falernum, lemon ginger syrup and pale ale) a Coffee disgestif (basically an Irish coffee of Martell, chocolate, coffee, cream and spice) and a Manhattan (Woodford Reserve, Lillet Rouge, Regans, Angostura and cherry).  All were nice if not mindblowing although the stand out ingredient for us was the Luxardo maraschino cherries in the Manhattan – a jar will definitely be joining my cocktail cabinet very soon.

Décor wise B&L surprised me a little. I had preconceptions of something rather more rustic and dark in line with other recent openings. Although it’s far from fine dining, and whether it’s due to the Mayfair location or the restaurant’s Goodman pedigree, its pale interior was rather smarter than I had imagined.

I really hope that B&L is able to maintain its price point and simplicity as, for me, that is the key to it remaining an outstanding restaurant rather than just a good one.

Clearly Burger & Lobster isn’t only hitting the spot with us mere amateur foodies, Angela Hartnett was sat at the bar during my meal and apparently AA Gill had been in earlier.  Were he not the epitomy of discretion, delightful and chatty front man Alex could soon be worse than a London cabbie: “Ere you’ll never guess who I had in the back of my cab the other day…..” And that is no bad thing when the people who are visiting really know their stuff.  In the words of one celebrity who- to the best of my knowledge- hasn’t yet been to B&L – “I’ll be back”.