Seven at Brixton

If I was being generous I would start by saying that I suppose Seven isn't technically a restaurant. But I'm not feeling generous. Far from it, in fact, because sitting down at the computer and recollecting my visit to Seven has made me cross. Seven sits in the now well renowned Market Arcade in Brixton and  does an excellent impression of pretending to be a purveyor of food in the form of Spanish style tapas.

Rammed to bursting on an unseasonably chilly Friday night, customers were put off neither by the cold, the dark room, nor the elbow to elbow crowds huddled around the ubiquitous mismatching furniture and dangly industrial lights. The upstairs is given over to local artists resulting in interesting decor but you couldn't see it even if you wanted to as the place was so crushed.

After wriggling to the bar we ordered various of French Martini, strawberry balsamic daquiri and Sloely Giving In. The first and last were both well made and pretty tasty and I could happily spend a summer night whiling away the hours getting steadily squiffier on five pound cocktails however the strawberry concoction I could take or leave- too much ice and not enough strawberry.  The bar is apparently known for its pintxos and I would have been keen to try them but genuinely felt that I might be risking my future gastrointestinal health if I'd proceeded. They had taken on the appearance of having been laid out at the edge of the overcrowded bar for quite some time, festering gently like some form of GCSE Biology experiment.

Now, I know that we're pursuing a Spanish theme here but just what is wrong with the humble pound sterling sign might I ask? As currency symbols go it's not a bad one and it's done the trick for millions of people for quite some time now. So why the trend of leaving it off? Whilst I'm at it, why has 50p turned into ½? Are we going to see 75p in the near future as ¾? Or perhaps 40p as 2/5 (sorry there wasn't even a symbol for that one)? It's just silly and I don't like it.

At £5 (sorry that should probably be '5 or something) padron peppers are not worth their price tag. If Dehesa can do them for less than a fiver then so should you, Seven. Your overheads are much lower and your food of a lesser quality than Dehesa, there is just no excuse. Croquetas, one of my favourite things on earth were ham and leek. HAM AND LEEK?! In a croqueta?! We're creeping into ironic Findus crispy pancake territory here and I don't even think they were being ironic. Although I suppose at least they were on the cheaper side at "3½".

We ordered a large sharing platter for £20 and a couple of extra dishes. The platter consisted of patatas bravas (see more on that below), olives - decent but not exceptional, piquillo peppers, bread and oil, sliced cured meats and "a selection of Spanish cheese". The sliced meats were decent quality and had been taken out of their packaging in a very skilled manner and been arranged prettily on the plank. Well done.

I am a massive cheese fiend. It is such a wondrous and varied creation with so many beautiful permutations, second only to wine but both sharing the characteristics of being a living thing that evolves and develops throughout its life and according to its surroundings. It was very clear to me that the slices of cheese had suffered greatly due to their surroundings having been cut some time previously and left out.  They had achieved the very special acclaim of managing to both sweat and curl as well as drying out. The blue was just clinging on but the second of the 'selection'- possibly once manchego?- had long since deceased and was inedible.

It took three goes to find out what the blue cheese was. The first response was "blue". I know its dark in there but, really? Your average Nappy Valley six year old would have a better punt at a description than that. When I dared to probe for slightly more detailed information the waitress offered to ask a colleague; "Spanish Blue" was the inspired response. I must have inadvertently let loose a small frown as the 'chef' was asked and finally we found out it was a Picos de Europa. Picos is usually quite a wet,  semi soft, sticky, cheese (not dissimilar in texture to a French Roquefort) however as you can see from the picture any sign of sticky had long since gone, the blue veins dried out to white.

I put 'chef' in inverted commas because in all honesty I'm not sure that someone who visits a Spanish deli, lets the ingredients get to the end of their reasonable shelf life then serves them up on planks of wood deserves the title 'chef' but I don't suppose he/she will be the last to be given this ill-deserved moniker.

One of the few dishes on the menu that does require cooking, mores the pity,  is the king prawns with chorizo and garlic. Overcooked, rubbery prawns bobbed around like sunburnt Costa del Sol tourists in a watery, oily tomato sea. If you had told me that they had been microwaved I would not have been surprised. The chorizo had been so over cooked that its flavour had faded to "slightly porky" although on the up side all its paprika had leached out into the liquid surrounding it giving a modicum more flavour.

Another "cooked" option was the patatas bravas. There was nothing brave about these potatoes. Roughly hewn slices of skin-on new potato were topped with quite sweet and sickly tomato sauce. This combined with the topping of a dollop of creme fraiche does not a patatas bravas make.

To me Seven at Brixton is the perfect example of hipster culture gone too far. I appreciate art, I love good food and am a sucker for a well mixed drink but the totality is just very underwhelming. Unimaginative, badly prepared food being served at over inflated prices to people who are there because someone said its cool. Noone in their right mind would travel to what is essentially a cold, cement market stall for fun unless there is a VERY good excuse to do so. Needless to say I won't be eating there again any time soon.

It's been a long time since I've written up such a hatchet job of somewhere as I generally have a lot of respect for the amount of work that goes into running a restaurant but in this case I have no such compunction; they clearly have no respect for their customers or the produce and ingredients to be serving this kind of drivel up. Maybe I caught them on a bad night, who knows? All I can attest to is that on the night I went it was pretty awful.  Pop in for a really very reasonably priced cocktail over the warmer summer nights by all means but please for the love of God if its anything like when I went, steer clear of the food. After all, its a matter of metres to all kinds of yummy treats in the form of Wishbone, Franco Manca or Honest Burgers amongst others so why would you put yourself through it?

Seven At Brixton

Unit 7, Market Row, Brixton

0207 998 3309



Dehesa, Soho

How Dehesa has, until now, completely missed my radar I'm not sure as it is so completely and utterly 'me'. Apart from anything else, it's been there FIVE years for goodness sake. I've been to sister restaurant Opera Tavern and loved it, I adore Spanish tapas and its not exactly rare that I'm out and about around Soho so this counts as a major oversight. Anyway, feeble excuses aside, it was brand new to me.

I woke up on my birthday knowing that if only one thing were to happen that day (other than getting another year older) then it had to be that I would eat croquetas. There is just something about that crispy breaded outer being the last bastion standing between me and a hot, oozy centre that gets me all of a tizz every time. Cue Google quest for decent Spanish tapas around the Oxford Circus area.  It ended up being a toss up between Dehesa and Copito so if anyone's been to Copito and had a good time, do share!

So back to Dehesa. I have to admit to having been a weeny bit suspicious of combined Italian/ Spanish tapas but the menu is just too delicious to hold that thought for too long. I was also completely wrong; Spanish and Italian together can be a wonderful thing. We attacked the bar snack side of the menu first for something to nibble on whilst contemplating the altogether more detailed tapas options over a glass of cava.

Both the pork and chorizo terrine and the chorizo & guindilla pate had sold out so I will have to go back for those another day.

First to arrive were padron peppers, quails eggs and pork rillions. Sitting somewhere on the pork spectrum between scratchings and well done pork belly,  rillions are meaty little morsels that just oooze terroir. I am fully aware of just how pretentious that last sentence sounds but its true, the flesh is so flavoursome that you can just picture happy pigs running around the countryside snuffling out acorns. Padron peppers were lightly charred to release the pungent bittersweet flavour and salted to a tang.  Quail's eggs were, well, quail's eggs albeit left in half a shell which, whilst pretty, was also a bit fiddly.  Special mention has to go to the smoked paprika salt for dipping the eggs. Simple, inspired and sooo being copied next time I have friends over.

Dehesa itself is a laid back but bustling kinda place, lots of high chairs at long tables and some comfy chairs at lower round tables, cleverly built into the round windows so that you have excellent opportunities for people watching both inside and out. On one side the bar staff are doling out the wine or mixing up drinks whilst in the far corner is the fun bit; a huge pata negra ham sits waiting for the chef to carve off little salty slices on a preparation area next to the dumb waiter so you can see all the dishes appearing as if by magic from the kitchen.

The croquetas on this particular occasion were of the cornish crab and prawn variety served with a crustacean aioli. The aioli had amazing depth of flavour, like a much reduced lobster bisque in mayonnaise form. The velvety seafood sauce was complemented by a dash of saffron flavour binding the crab meat in the croqueta itself. If I hadn't had a dinner ahead of me that evening I could have sat there all afternoon eating plate after plate washed down by endless cava.

Grilled chorizo with smoked aubergine puree wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing dish to come out from the kitchen but it was bursting with flavour, the mellow smokiness of the roast aubergine cuddling up to the paprika packed chorizo in a glorious comfort food hug.

A dish of pork belly and rosemary scented cannellini beans was well executed with a nice amount of crunch on the pork skin. For me it was very rich and greasy (not a criticism when it comes to pork belly....) and whilst the cannellini beans were nice and very definitely of the rosemary variety,  I would have liked something to cut that grease just a little bit more. Last of all came the beetroot and taleggio gratin with egg, migas and truffle dressing; bright pink in colour and tangy with powerful taleggio. I hope I'm not showing my ignorance in admitting that I did have to google "migas" but it apparently means "crumbs". As you can see below, it seemed to be more like a caramelised pickled onion but whatever it was I liked it, adding bite to the very creamy, rich gratin.   Not the most super truffly dish I've ever tasted but pretty darn good nonetheless.

Other dishes that imminently need to be a part of my life include the courgette flowers with Monte Enebro and honey, the jamon iberico de bellota with Ermesenda toast and the octopus a la plancha with chickpeas, piquillo peppers, spinach and gremolata. I defy anyone other than the most hardened vegan to read that sentence without admitting to even just a hint of salivation.

Would I go back? Definitely. Its not somewhere you'd go for a special occasion but its great for a catch up over a decent bottle of wine with a friend or a pitstop when shopping. Best of all you can also reserve some of the tables in advance thereby avoiding the dreaded Soho curse. 

Dehesa

25 Ganton Street, London W1F 9BP

020 7494 4170

Spring Clean: Bistro Blitz Part Deux

Continuing last week's spring clean and the series of bistro type venues I've failed spectacularly to blog until now, here are some more. I've noticed a correlation of reason for not having blogged earlier; bistros tend to be quite dark which leads to rubbish photos. Prepare yourselves for a series of hideous overly yellow and slightly grainy images. Sorry!


High Road Brasserie: Chiswick

This was a work outing which always makes it harder to keep notes, even on a mobile you look like you're rudely texting away. I felt it was worth a mention though as the meal we had was actually rather nice in a plain simple, traditional-brasserie-food-done-well kind of vein. Between us we had a brilliantly ooozy, cheesy and horrifically calorific French onion soup which almost made me regret my choice but not quite, some scallops with pea shoots (a touch overdone but not so far into the rubber category that they had reached inedible) the highlight starter for me was the twice baked gruyere soufflé- light and fluffy with a deep cheesy flavour and nice crunchy outer. Served with a chive butter sauce in a little jug on the side, at £7 it was reasonable value.

Meat is all sourced from well known West London butcher, Macken Bros so is of excellent quality. The garlic butter served on top of the steak was more herb than garlic for my tastes but over the years I seem to have become immune to levels of garlic in combination with cow so its probably just fine.

In all honesty you're probably not going to travel across London to dine here, especially not on the basis of their rather underwhelming website. That said it's a definite contender as a good quality Chiswick meal that can compete alongside Sam's Brasserie on the nights when you can't afford nearby La Trompette. Does what it says on the tin. Doesn't over promise and doesn't over deliver but is just good.

High Road Brasserie
162-166 Chiswick High Rd , W4 1PR
020 8742 7474




Le Cercle: Knightsbridge

Hidden away just off Sloane Street on what, at first glance, looks like a residential street, Le Cercle is just a climb down a staircase into a cavernous basement restaurant.

The menu is a combination of classical French with what can, at best, be called experimental additions. Despite my predilection for anything porcine I have to admit that "crispy pork and melting tuna" sounds like a pretty horrific concoction and not one I'd be willing to spend £6.00 on to try and prove myself wrong. Duck "chocobar" sounds very interesting and could either be a triumph or a disaster and nothing in between but didn't make the cut on this occasion. What did, however was the mini duck burger from the 'grignotages' list which, despite being "mini" was definitely worth its £4.50.  A warm brioche bun gave way to crunchy lettuce and a rich well seasoned duck finish.  I'd like to see a full size one on the main course list. A "winter salad" was essentially veg that you would eat with a roast, but raw. The dressing added to it was nice but it struck me as an undercooked side dish rather than a dish in itself.

There is a definite leaning towards bringing the sweet into what should really be savoury dishes. Sometimes this works other times it doesn't.  An example of when it doesn't is the juniper macaron served with the braised and seared venison & vanilla oil mash. The venison was a beautiful piece of meat cooked wonderfully well but it was totally overpowered by dessert- sweet mash, the vanilla reminding me of a creme patissiere, then topped off with a juniper macaron. It was a nice macaron and would have been welcomed with open arms as a petit four but with roast venison? No thanks.  Duck creme brulee with lemon pearls and cardamom crust was another one that sounded more like it belonged at the end of a menu than in the middle.

I have to admit that I wasn't paying full attention to my dining companion's main course. I *think* it was a sea bass with roast choucroute and spiced wine sauce but I'm not 100% sure. He seemed quite pleased with it though and it did look pretty on the plate.

Melting middle chocolate pudding and a citron tart were both very well made and delicious leaving the meal on a definite high. The chef clearly has a sweet tooth and is most at home with excellent desserts.

Charging us for an entire bottle of dessert wine instead of a glass was, I am absolutely sure, just an accidental oversight but unfortunately one that we only picked up on once the transaction had gone through and I understand the resulting refund took a couple of weeks which is unfortunate.

I did try to go back a couple of weeks later with my parents and booked a 9pm table. I got a phone call a couple of days before from the manager telling me that I was the only table booked in that evening and "although we'd happily open perhaps could I think of ....? Would I like to possibly not....? Maybe it would be a bit quiet....... ".  So what you're trying to say is that you don't want to cancel my table but would quite like me to cancel? Fair enough. We ended up at the Wolseley. Good swap.

I have to admit I've gone off Le Cercle somewhat since they subsquently sent me an email newsletter in which they proudly boasted of their appearance in the first episode of the new series of Made in Chelsea in the same breath as Pippa Middleton having name checked them somewhere. Not sure these are the sort of credentials that a restaurant linked to Club Gascon should look for but hey ho.... 

The atmosphere in the restaurant is relaxed and the service pretty good. Prices are very reasonable for the style of restaurant and the location in Knightsbridge/Chelsea. It's not going to knock your socks off but, provided you're not ultra fussy, it won't disappoint. All in all a nice evening out but mainly down to the company rather than the food and restaurant experience and with a plethora of other great places to try I probably won't be back. I see that they are offering various voucher deals or cut price offers on certain websites and it would be worth a try on a deal but I wouldn't pay full price for it again.

Le Cercle
1 Wilbraham Pl  Knightsbridge, SW1X 9AE
020 7901 9999

A Spring Clean: Bistro Blitz

Now that there seems to be an occasional hint of sun in the sky (may I not jinx it by saying this) and the daffodils are poking through I decided to have a bit of a spring clean of the old drafts folder. Sure enough, tucked amongst the published posts I found a heap of places that for one reason or another never made it into a full on blog post. Not because they weren't good by any means, more often becuase I got busy and never got round to the full write up. Or that the photos were rubbish and who doesn't like a good photo? So here they are a brief memory dump of some of the more interesting meals I've eaten recently. For some reason most of them seem to feature French/European style bistros so we have a theme.

Colbert, Sloane Square

The unstoppable steam train success that is the Corbin/King duo strikes again? The most recent of the bunch (or should that be brunch) being Colbert, is located in the space that was Oriel in Sloane Square. 

When Oriel closed its doors lots of stories did the rounds about its disappearance, the most widely reported being that the landlord the Earl of Cadogan went to lunch one day and found it so horrid he immediately refused to renew the lease on the basis that the location in prime time Sloane Square is such a good one that anything there will be a success and he at least wanted it to be good. 

Arriving quite late on in the evening with no booking, we were more than happy to sit outside nursing a glass of red wine and watch the world go by until our table was ready. About half an hour later we were fetched and whisked through to the back room. The decor is like the other Rex restaurants in that it is designed to emulate the grand cafes of a time gone by and does this at Colbert with lots of old photos and French adverts. The number of covers in Colbert is quite deceptive due to the winding nature of the restaurant with different rooms but doesn't have the giant feel of Zedel.

It might have been late at night but there are certain breakfast dishes that work at any time of day or night. Eggs benedict is one of them and also, in my experience offers a reliable yardstick to compare restaurants by. H and I therefore just had to share a small portion as a starter. Excellent quality hand carved ham - tick, decent quality hollandaise coating the runny poached egg- tick. No complaints.

I followed it up with steak. Decent meat, nicely executed, decent chips. not Hawksmoor but perfectly pleasant. H went for the cassoulet and I have to admit to having been a bit of a green eyed monster as it was seriously fab. There are few things gastronomically speaking that can be more fulfilling on a chilly rainy night than a good, old fashioned cassoulet. Especially one that contains not only Toulouse sausage but also confit duck.

On their website, Rex restaurants describe Colbert as a "neighbourhood cafe" which I think is doing it a disservice when Zedel is described as a brasserie- this is so much more than a cafe serving a versatile menu, a decent drinks list and would also be very much worth travelling for. I very much hope that Lord Cadogan continues to enjoy the food at Colbert as I would hate to see it disappear

Would I go back? Definitely. I'm keen to try the "Croque Grand Monsieur" which is essentially a pimped up cheese and ham toastie replacing the normal cheese with comte and the ham with bayonne ham. Bring it on!

Colbert

50-52 Sloane Square, London SW1W 8AX;
020 7730 2804

The Wolseley, Piccadilly

Speaking of Corbin and King, the early part of this year also held a long overdue visit to Piccadilly stalwart, The Wolseley. Meeting my parents from a charity event, I came face to face with my father accompanied by a large walking box hovering somewhere just above what appeared to be my mother's legs. It transpired that she had won an unknown star prize in some raffle or tombola type affair which was presented in a giant box. It was therefore with excellent grace and aplomb that the doorman and the maitre d' of the Wolesely greeted our arrival and said cumbersome box was whisked away for storage without even a hint of a raise of an eyebrow. We were whisked to our table in the centre of the main floor giving us excellent people watching potential over our fellow diners.

I've since been told by a friend that Corbyn and King restaurants have very distinct seating hierarchies (this was also reinforced by Marina O'Loughlin's trip to The Delaunay). At the time I had no idea but it seems we lucked out and were sat in what those in the know consider as prime time seats - maybe it had something to do with the box incident, keep 'em where we can see 'em! We were right next to fabulous actress Gina McKee so maybe there's a grain of truth in it. Anyroads, its a good parent dinner place. Nothing too weird or foreign, not too dark with no obtrusive music to muster frowns.

A significant part of the short wait for our food to arrive was spent taking in the architecture and guessing at what its history had been. Parent 1 guessed bank and parent 2 car showroom;  a brief foray into the world of Google and hey presto, you're both right!

I started with the seared scallops, jerusalem artichoke puree and hazelnut oil. Very tasty, pretty and well executed but at £16.50 for a starter portion the serving felt perhaps a little on the stingy side. In contrast Severn & Wye Valley smoked salmon with soda bread was a super generous portion, a whole large dinner plate covered in plain salmon. Not complex perhaps but delicious in its quality and simplicity.

Peppered beef fillet with brandy cream sauce was very nice but also very peppery leaving me happy but kind of envious of my Dad's rib-eye steak which was apparently excellent.

The wine list is not going to be winning any prizes any time soon for either its breadth of choice or its originality but it is adequate.

A coffee eclair for dessert was everything that you would expect from classical European patisserie. Stuffed with cream and a bit fat coffee chocolate worm of icing glistening on the top of the lightest of choux pastries. It lasted about 2 minutes. Max.

Service is good, clearly the staff are very busy which doesn't lend itself to a feeling of a relaxed dining experience but part of the enduring appeal of the Wolseley is its buzzy, classic cafe feel. This is somewhere that people come to see and be seen.  Arguably they have gone a little bit commercial offering Wolseley branded oils and rather pricey pepper grinders for sale on their website but I suppose its not a crime.

I'm terrifically keen to return for breakfast one day although I expect that they will be just as run off their feet then as at any other time of the day. Still by far and away the flagship of the group's collection, The Wolseley looks likely to carry on forever.

The Wolseley
160 Piccadilly  London W1J 9EB
020 7499 6996

 

Soif, Battersea

Various internet and magazine coverage of Soif often describes the style of dishes on offer as 'tapas'. Call me picky or annoying (and you wouldn't be the first) but I have a marked dislike for any 'tapas' that isn't Spanish as it invariably disappoints me. Using the word "tapas" feels completely wrong to describe somewhere that is so completely and utterly Gallic. Everything from the decor of the restaurant to the accent of the ridiculously good looking waiter oozes Frenchness. You get the feeling that only the pesky smoking ban prevents the middle aged Frenchman sat reading a paper at the bar (Le Monde, natch) from exhaling a rising curl of blue Gauloise smoke.

A and I opted for the special, Nduja, a dish of spiced, minced sausage blended with chilli and served with bread with ricotta and rosemary. A small plateful of padron peppers were a good addition at £3.50. Little chargrilled bites of green pepper were crisp with a salt crust, and would have been perhaps too much on their own but were great with the nduja and some slices of saucisse seche. 

We were warned several times by various members of staff that the Nduja was very spicy, we were even told a tale of the very-good-looking-waiter crying after eating it (allegedly not through pure joy). I'm not known for my tolerance of all things spicy so it was bit of a gamble. On the Indian scale of spice, dopiaza is my limit. The one benefit of this "small dish" approach to serving food (nope, still obstinately not using 'tapas') is that you can risk ordering something you might not usually try, or suspect you might not like and its not going to wreck the meal if it turns out to be an inedible dud. Luckily, however, on this occasion our gamble paid off and, far from being a dud, the nduja was a little taste bomb of flavour and spice.

For a place who's name means "thirsty" Soif live up to their moniker with a super extensive wine list, in fact 'list' is a bit of a misnomer I'd go with 'book'. Soif do place a lot of emphasis on natural/bio wines which the cynic in me finds rather annoying but there are plenty of good value and unusual "normal" wines to choose from.

We shared a whole roast quail with salsa romesca for our main course. We accompanied it with a portion of asparagus, duck egg and parmesan wihch was simple but well put together.   The menu changes on a daily basis so I'm keen to go back and give it another go to try out some of the other options. Revisiting their website for a bit of fact checking I got sucked into today's menu and I would definitely be eating whole dressed devon crab and confit duck if I was there today.

The older that I get, the more savoury that my tastes seem to become however when it came to the dessert list I was torn. Two of my all time favourites were right there for the taking. Almond and pear tarte or chocolate in the from of a pot au chocolat? Weighing it up we went for the only sensible option in such very trying circumstances and ordered both.

Almond and pear tart was held together by a buttery, crumby pastry and the almond frangipane not too dry, always a risk. Chocolate pot was supremely chocolatey, utterly smooth and nothing short of delicious.

PS did I mention that the waiter was very good looking?

Soif
27 Battersea Rise, London, SW11 1HG

020 7223 1112

Yauatcha, a Dim Sum Dream

I love dim sum. Juggling slippery har gau with chopsticks, peeling opening bright white springy char sui bao buns to reveal the sticky pork inside, its the stuff dreams are made of. In short I absolutely adore it but being as most Chinese restaurants only serve it during the day when I'm usually squirrelled away in an office somewhere overlooking the M4 I don't often get to eat it. Not many places of any note serve the decent stuff in the evening and last year's debacle that was Ping Pong has made me very wary indeed.  That said J&D were visiting from Liverpool with a craving for dim sum which had to be sated. Cue an outing to Yauatcha.

Located amongst the fabric shops and farmer's market on the corner of Berwick and Broadwick in prime time Soho, Yauatcha does stand out somewhat from its surroundings like a bright blue fish tank.  Once inside the building is divided into two, the upstairs being a more casual tearoom with an absolutely gorgeous patisserie display. Heading down some neon blue lit stairs into the dark cavernous basement beneath feels a little bit Star Trek at first. The downstairs dining room resembles the flotation pool in a posh spa; twinkling fairy lights in the ceiling and tanks of tropical fish around the bar with flickering faux candles embedded in the gold tiled walls. The early evening chill out dance music adds to this feeling. Nothing wrong with this per se, very relaxing indeed but just a little um... unusual.  As the evening went on the music went uptempo to become slightly more discoey (is that even a word?) - well you know what I mean.

I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with Alan Yau's restaurants generally. Wagamama clearly has a place in the world of chain, fast food dining and was pioneering when it first emerged but I never seem to find myself eating there these days. Sake no Hana was a bit of a disaster from start to finish (tried in my pre blog days otherwise it would have been a corker) whereas Hakkasan I found very pleasant but clearly in a completely different league to the others in the Yau stable. Despite having been sold in 2008, Yauatcha still bears the hallmarks of the Yau dynasty with its contemporary but classic spin on oriental cuisine.

 

The cocktail list is pretty varied and versatile with various options leaping out at me. Between us we sampled a few my favourite of which was the Golden Aster martini conjured together from bourbon, sweet vermouth, aperol and lemon chilli syrup. Warm and spicy but just light enough to still be refreshing.

The chilli martini, lychee martini and the citrus martini (gin, vodka, limoncello, passionfruit, grapefruit & orange juice) all also hit the spot and there were plenty of other options on the list I'd be keen to try on a return fixture.

At £9.80 each cocktails are pretty reasonable compared to many other Soho hangouts and complex enough to feel like they have earned their keep.

Venison puffs were first to step up to the plate encased with buttery, sesame topped flaky pastry concealing a hot, gelatinous gravy soaked gloop of sweet seasoned tender venison. I had thought at first that they might be overly dry due to the amount of pastry but in hindsight they had done well to keep the pastry so crunchy with the amount of lovely filling.

Char sui buns were equally gorgeous in their filling and generous too. Just like the ones that you get everywhere else but kind of 'supercharged'!

Crispy duck rolls were big fat cylinders absolutely stuffed to the gills with shredded duck meat, thin cucumber and spring onion strips snug inside a crispy but not overly greasy casing. By far and away the best duck rolls I've ever had. The hoi sin sauce was, well, like normal hoi sin sauce but complaints there.

Chilli squid with oatmeal was springy without being rubbery whilst maintaining a crunch on the outside. Yes, oatmeal might be a rather unusual ingredient for chilli squid and could be classed as a cheating a bit were you to be of a grouchy disposition but it was very good. Just enough chilli heat to tickle your taste buds and salty enough to get the juices flowing without having you reaching for the water

Almond fish cakes were unusual, the filling was almost quite rubbery in texture like thai fish cakes but then coated in  crunchy almond outer casing before being fried. They had a lovely fragrant flavour further enhanced by a light but tangy orange blossom type dipping sauce.

 
Pork and prawn shui mai are hardly innovative but this rendition of an old favourite was extremely well executed. Too many shui mai I have had recently have an overly meaty flavour to them but these were perfectly balanced between prawn and pork and well seasoned.

This brings me on to one of the criticisms levelled at Yauatcha out there in cyberspace which is that many of the dim sum dishes are nothing new or imaginative but then again what would dim sum be without har gau, shui mai or char sui bao? If anything it is harder to impress with your version of something classic than it is to impress with something new.

Next time I'm definitely going to be trying the lobster dumpling with tobiko caviar and the blue swimmer crab shui mai, I got too full to order them this time unfortunately!

Poached peking spicy chicken dumplings were little sticky pockets of flavour, plenty of coriander then a warm surge of spice in the accompanying broth.

One of the indisputable stars of the show was the platter of jasmine tea smoked ribs, a main course option at around £12. Although covered in a very sweet and sticky (but utterly lovely) barbecue sauce, the soft smoky tea flavour of the meat itself was clearly distinguishable.

Mongolian venison with red pepper, potato and onion in a thick butter and black pepper sauce was possibly the most tender venison I have ever eaten. At one point we were left scraping the sauce off just to check it was slices of meat and not mince patties underneath it was that soft. Gentle game flavour just coming through the sweet but peppery sauce.

Every bite that we took whilst at Yauatcha was absolutely beyond criticism.

So, onto the cost of this escapade. I really, really dislike the practice of many Parisian restaurants (and a fair dose of New York ones too) of not putting any prices on their website. This insistence of sharing a menu but no costs is one that smacks of arrogance and a sense of "if you have to ask the price you can't afford us". It's rare that this happens in London but I was disappointed to see that Yauatcha's website is one of those unforgiving places, this implied to me that I was in for an exercise in rampant wallet bashing.  Totally unnecessarily so as well since prices, although higher than your average Gerard Street eaterie, are not that bad. Most dim sum dishes are around £7 and desserts around £8. Considering I called at 3pm for a 6.30pm table on a Friday night Yauatcha are not super-fully-booked, maybe not being so recalcitrant on the published price front might attract more punters?

We ordered at least 7 dim sum dishes, a couple of mains and multiple cocktails and left stuffed to the gills and a bill of £140 between three; less than I've paid per head in Ping Pong in the days before it turned into Pong Pong.

The big remaining question is whether it deserves that Michelin star? The food is undoubtedly an excellent example of its kind, definitely a notch above most other dim sum places. That said, I don't think it is as good an experience overall as Hakkasan and is not what I would traditionally categorise as a Michelin starred one.  Chopsticks are snap-yourself wooden jobs and napkins are paper and presentation is nothing incredible. It's always hard to make a comparison across different cuisines, but the type of experience that you get at somewhere like Chez Bruce, Dinner by HB, Joel Robuchon or any number of other "fine dining" (I hate that phrase!) venues leaves you feeling much more special than you do here.  

Quite a few people online had pilloried the service at Yauatcha referring to it variously as 'dreadful'and 'cold' but this wasn't my experience. Ok, it wasn't top notch service wise (I did have to chase for soy sauce and some other bits) but it was far from the bad experience I had steeled myself for.

So a couple of niggles around the overall visit but one thing I couldn't fault at all was the food and ultimately isn't that what we're there for? Would I go again? Yes definitely. Excellent for pre theatre or casual catching up with friends but probably not what you're looking for on a romantic night out or special dinner. Having missed out on dessert I can't wait to go back soon and sample the delights of the tea room.

Yautacha

15-17 Broadwick Street.
Soho, London, W1F 0DL
+44 (0) 20 7494 8888

Kit Kat Japanese Style

Kit Kats are Kit Kats right? Like Coca Cola and McDonald's fries, they are the same the whole world over. Except in Japan. Different flavours are launched on a regional basis. Sure, we have the current spate of flavours in the UK but by including mint, orange and hazelnut they are hardly pushing gastronomic boundaries flavour wise. I had heard tell of the unusual flavour phenomenon found only in the land of the rising sun and wanted to explore it however on my first visit, despite hunting high and low, I was only able to find two "weird" version of Kit Kats in the form of green tea and secondly cinnamon. 

Much more success on visit two. I arrived home with a suitcase full of varieties including strawberry, blueberry cheesecake, wasabi, brown sugar syrup, green tea and cherry blossom, strawberry cheesecake and rum & raisin. 

Apparently the reason behind the success of the humble Kit Kat relates to its meaning in Japanese. Phonetically it sounds like 'kitto katsu' which roughly means 'good luck to you!' Kit Kats are therefore offered as good luck tokens. The Japanese also have a tradition of taking cakes or sweets to people that they are visiting when embarking on a journey. Therefore, by making different Kit Kats limited edition to certain regions they attract a certain collectability.

After putting together a small panel of expert chocolate eaters (aka work colleagues) each flavour was scientifically contemplated and compared (aka wolfed down at coffee break time) especially for this post.


Wasabi was a little disappointing. It had a gentle horseradish type smell on the nose but was less exciting on the palate. Having tried Lindt wasabi chocolate which has a decent kick to it, I had expected a local Japanese version to, if anything, pack even more punch. On the contrary it was predominantly white chocolate with a slight hint of wasabi. Kit Kat flavour fail....

Second up was strawberry cheesecake. This one wasn't so great either in all honesty. Covered in white chocolate with only a slight strawberry flavour, it seemed as though the cloying white chocolate just masked the flavour.

Rum and raisin. This is possibly the one that I had been looking forward to the most and it didn't disappoint, a really distinct rum flavour pervaded throughout and was actually properly yummy, I'd be up for trying to persuade Nestle to do this one in the UK. Would have been better covered in milk chocolate than dark chocolate though. That said one of the samplers disliked this one the most.

Brown Sugar Syrup I'm not sure that I even know what brown sugar syrup is? I'm guessing that its something approximating treacle as that's what I got an olfactory blast of when I opened the packaging. Tasted something like treacle in porridge all in all though probably due to having been coated in that damned white chocolate again. Rather overly sweet, If it had been dipped in dark chocolate it would have been really rather lovely, shame. 

Matcha Green Tea  This remains one of my favourite flavours and tastes exactly like proper powdered matcha tea. The lurid green chocolate is quite alarming at first but all part of the fun...

Green tea and sakura blossom flower. YUM. I was being pretty cynical when I opened this one. After all, the Japanese are bonkers about blossom. Literally everything has a limited edition blossom themed version in the spring, even beer. Cherry blossom is also used widely in Japanese cuisine and has a really delicate pretty flavour that is also quite distinctive so I wasn't hopeful that it would be too faithfully reproduced in chocolate biscuit form but sure enough it was. 

Blueberry Cheesecake-This one came packaged in a very cool Mount Fuji shaped box. Good job it had something going for it as this was my least favourite of all the bars. Didnt taste much of actual blueberries just more of that sticky sweet white chocolate with an indeterminate fruit flavour. I'm soooo over the white chocolate thing now and getting grumpy despite the sugar rush.....

Strawberry. Unlike the cheesecake version, this one was covered in pale pink chocolate and had a more distinctive strawberry flavour although it was that synthetic strawberry taste that you get in bootlaces and medicine.

If we could routinely get them over here I would buy the green tea, the green tea and blossom and the rum & raisin but I wouldn't bother with the rest.  The rest of the tasting panel agreed that they are too sweet even for chocolate lovers. More gimmick then flavour and substance. I love the idea though. If you wanted to give them a whirl and don't know anyone headed to Japan any time soon you can get them on Amazon albeit it at a price!