Cake at Café Royal

Having spent a morning pacing Oxford Street on a Saturday (I thought it was a stupid idea too but sometimes needs must) and a sprint down Regent Street dodging tourists and the bubble-blowing man outside Hamleys, I was in dire need of calm, quiet and cake.

Afternoon tea is a wonderful thing considered by many to be so quintessentially British. The problem is that it’s generally a mammoth undertaking when the best establishments keep rolling out the refills and leave me feeling like a beached walrus after agreeing to just one more round of sandwiches and an extra scone. Yes, arguably I should have more self control but when it comes to cake and pretty little sandwiches with the crusts cut off I just don’t, sorry.   

It is therefore a truly wonderful thing to find a place where you can have the experience of afternoon tea without the gargantuan quantities of food. Let’s call it a diet afternoon tea...   Café Royal is that place. Make no mistake, they too offer the full shebang in just gorgeous surroundings in their Oscar Wilde room but for the lighter option, pop into the cafe and try and choose between the prettiest of patisseries,  lined up in glass cabinets with fancy pants piping, smooth-as-a-glacier-lake ganache and tiny weeny chocolates on the top. 

Although the more casual option, the cafe is still beautiful inside with wall to wall warm veined marble. Wall to wall is actually something of an understatement as it is frankly everywhere from floor to wall to tabletop. 

Picture borrowed from the Cafe Royal website as mine didn't really capture all the marble.....

The cake billed on the menu as a “jaffa cake” was, of course, no McVities biscuit/cake. This confection was a delicate layering of the lightest genoise sponge with a rich, dark ganache, an orange jelly and more layers of chocolatiness before a drenching in mirror finish ganache and gold decoration. My favourite of the afternoon (but this is coming from someone who can wolf an entire box of jaffa cakes without a second thought so I'm not perhaps not an unbiased sampler). 

The raspberry, lychee and rose eclair was also not an eclair in the traditional sense. Rather than be piped full of cream this was delicately swirled on the top. Pretty but a little bit cheating in my opinion. The choux was nice and crisp though and the raspberry and rose flavours popped; more lychee though please! It was the boy's favourite one, however, and he is a cakeaholic so it must have been good. 

I dare you, try having just one cake per person when you go. I swear blind that it’s impossible despite my good intentions! Two each is just plain greedy though so we settled on one extra one to share.

The “Ferrero Rocher” macaron was slightly odd to behold, a massive rocky macaron sprayed gold with added gold leaf floaty bits, perhaps not the prettiest thing on the menu but I totally get the homage to the Ambassador's favourite treat that they were going for. 

It didn’t have the usual internal feel of a macaron as the rich ganache filling was weighing down the normally light almond sponge shell.  Somewhat average visuals aside and whilst flying in the face of tradition, this “macaron” was delicious but left no space for any more. Cake craving successfully sated. 

Jasmine tea was served in a beautiful teapot with all the accoutrements of strainers and pretty little silver dishes to sit the strainer in  although possibly superfluous as it turned out the tea was in a bag.... 

If its a celebration then I would definitely advocate going for the full tea served elsewhere in the hotel but for a mid afternoon treat or a shopping pitstop for a bit of peace and quiet in beautiful surroundings, I can think of nowhere finer. 

Cafe Royal
68 Regent St, Soho, London W1B 4DY
020 7406 3333

Zelman Meats

A cold, rainy night in central London. Wandering through Soho, we wanted good quality, comforting food without the need to queue in the street or be turned away from venue after venue. Or in other words; meat. In all honesty we were using St Ann's Court as a cut through to get from Dean Street to Whitcomb when we remembered Zelman Meats. Its hard to ignore as you walk past actually, mainly due to the neon sign glowing like a homing beacon to steak lovers.

Rex & Mariano

I remember when this place was a Vodka Revolution bar stuck down a grotty side street in Soho whose raison d'être was little more than for the drunken amorous encounters of late night revellers or an apparent double purpose as an emergency loo. Nothing good has ever happened in a Revolution bar. I recall it to be a dark, gloomy cavern offering dubiously flavoured vodkas by the stick. You would frankly have had to have paid me an awful lot of money to be found there. Scratch that, I just wouldn't. So, one rainy Saturday night I find my phone directing me down a dark alley with a little trepidation.

Times change and so does Soho thankfully.

Dip & Flip

Another day, another burger joint. Yawn. As soon as I saw the crazy moustachioed hipster man on BBC's The Restaurant Man last year introducing Southampton to the delights of drippy burgers in squishy brioche buns in a room of exposed brick walls it finally felt as though the burger's moment in the sun must be done. 

So it was with some surprise and a little burger fatigue that Dip & Flip popped up in Clapham Junction a while back now and, whilst conforming to some of the burger stereotypes- those brick walls and the no reservations policy being just two- the food is rather good. 

Wokit, Borough Market

I made a decision a while ago that I was going to be less negative on this website. Despite people clearly preferring reading an article when I get the semantic daggers out (the website stats are testament to this), the places I am writing about are the result of someone's hard work, hopes and dreams and who I am I to trample all over that? It was all going so well until I had the misfortune to need a quick supper in Borough one Saturday late afternoon.

Everyone knows that Borough Market is home to some of the best food that London has to offer right? Especially tourists who flock there in huge numbers expecting everything to match up to scenes from Bridget Jones' Diary or the Trip Advisor reviews - I particularly loved a recent one penned by Ted in California who proclaimed it "without a doubt the best market in Great Britain" - granted it's good but I do question how many others Ted might have visited to make such a sweeping statement.

34

There are some people who exude money. I don't mean it literally of course, no one has pound coins popping out from behind their ears magician style it was more that the other diners seemed very expensive. The whole experience felt very expensive. I'm sure that you know what I mean? Even before I arrived I felt slightly inadequate just trying to find the restaurant. Address: 34, Grosvenor Square. Except there isn't a 34 Grosvenor Square on Grosvenor Square.  We drove around at least twice looking at numbers and found nothing. It started to seem like an insider joke - if you can't find the secret door you can't come in. The cab driver suggested that maybe it was actually IN the neighbouring US Embassy but even I knew that was a silly idea, imagine the security clearance needed just to get supper. Finally in desperation- and now five minutes late for the reservation- I called the restaurant; the entrance is actually around 100m down South Audley Street - as I would have known if I'd checked their website to be fair. 

This may all say more about my navigational skills and powers of observation than the place itself but it wasn't the most auspicious start to the outing. Neither was fighting my way up the steps through a cloud of smoke past leggy, sleek, thoroughbred racehorses in skyscraper red soled Louboutins suppressing their appetites with cigarettes  as I trotted up like a Shetland pony.  

Shackfuyu

If you've read this blog for a while you may know how rare it is that I am unstintingly positive about anywhere - what can I say, I'm a discerning (*picky/fussy call it what you will) kinda gal. That said, one of the few places I adored without limitation last year was Flesh & Buns. I was therefore pretty excited when I heard about Flesh & Buns owner Bone Daddies opening a pop up place on Old Compton Street.

The term "pop up" has a rather ambigous meaning these days. When the term first, well- popped up, it meant somewhere opening for just a few days or weeks. Then the phrase became a bit overused so when Jamie Oliver announced his "pop up" Jamie's Diner in Piccadilly Circus - still marketing itself as "for a limited time only'- eyes rolled, especially when it was uncovered that the lease was for a minimum of three years so hardly what most people consider "pop up".  In the case of 14a Old Compton Street it seems that the lease is for an initial year so its not yet a permanent fixture but also isn't going to be one of those places that by the time I've pulled my finger out and written about it you can't go because its already upped sticks and left. Due to its not-sure-if-its-permanent status its also not had a high gloss makeover so is charmingly rustic with the previous inhabitant's brick pizza oven still very much mid restaurant (and in use). Its is suited to casual dining with your mates rather than first date territory but none the poorer for it. It also gets pretty smoky in there from the oven so don't be going on to anywhere you need to smell nice.

I'm still allergic to queuing so we had planned afternoon tea at Dean Street Townhouse for a lazy Sunday afternoon but when our table still wasnt ready 15 minutes after the booked time I went in search of Shackfuyu. Its one thing to queue when its 'no reservations' but quite another level of annoyance again to queue when you had bothered to book. Back to Shackfuyu... Not a single person queuing and a haven of peace and calm inside with a lovely warm smiley welcome- job done!

Drinks are served pre-mixed in little potion bottles and, feeling a little delicate after a big night out, I went for a "California Dreaming" apparently a mix of cranberry, lychee and lime. I say 'apparently' because  the lime was dominant and the lychee almost indiscernable. It was still tasty but the bottles are pretty tiny so I'd stick to the label soft drinks like Fevertree ginger beer. The boozy cocktails sound rather delicious though so Id be tempted on a less tender day. Its also worth mentioning the comparatively large downstairs bar that you can have a beer or two in whilst you wait for a table on those evenings when queues inevitably grow. Better than trailing down the street in the rain...

"Prawn toast masquerading as okonomiyaki" was just that; a circular slab of minced prawn fried patty but topped with spring onion, creamy sauce and the faintest whisps of bonito flakes that fluttered and danced in the air just like Hiroshima's favourite snack. This was nothing like your stereotypical Chinese takeway prawn toast though. No fried bread and not overly greasy; a soft, well seasoned prawn filling and the lightest of coatings.

My highlight beyond compare was the beef picanha with kimchee tare butter. Or an alternative description would be just really tender, rare beef slices dripping in savoury salty butter. Let's go with that. As with Jinjuu, the meat is listed in the dish description as being USDA. Yes, I know its good meat, my mouth told me that, but its a long way to bring cow when we have very good ones here too thank you very much.

Its apparently almost illegal to go to any Asian fusion type place in Soho at the moment and not order Korean fried chicken so we jumped on board. Sticky enough to require copious finger licking with sharp tang that gives way to a blast of chilli and spice- they are not for the faint hearted.  Being brutal, the wings aren't quite as good as those at Jinjuu (mainly down to their incredible sauce) but they are still delicious so I certainly wouldn't hold back on ordering them again. The Mentaiko Mac & Cheese got full marks for quality of sauce- thick and creamy- but I'm not sure about the mentaiko ball served on top. It was suggested that we stir it into the sauce but having tasted a small mouthful of cold pollock roe we decided to go more traditional and keep fish and cheese well apart.

Scallop with chilli miso butter might sound pricey in the singular at £8 but our portion contained two scallops and a plump roe so kept me happy if not my scales. Swimming in a deeply savoury butter (albeit with less chilli then the name might suggest), the molten pool gave way to a springy but delicate opalescent flesh. 

The hot stone rice comes in a big cast iron bowl with gome tare, chilli and beef along with various veggies like shredded carrot and roast sweetcorn. It is then mixed together at the table so that the heat of the bowl cooks the egg through the rice. Don't just take my word for it though, my first attempt at a gif below will hopefully prove it.

Kinako french toast with matcha Mr Whippy is the only dessert on the menu and has been a much instagrammed and talked about dish. I think its worth all the praise it gets. Although firm on the outside, the caramelised, kinako-covered crust gives way to a sweet, soft inner. L wasn't so sure about the ice cream but I know that the not-quite-sweet and a bit powdery flavour of matcha can be an acquired taste.

Would I go again: Yes definitely. Lovely staff, no queue on a Sunday afternoon and not too spendy (sub £30 a head although no booze)

Highlight: Its between the French toast and the beef. I can't decide. Am I allowed one sweet and one savoury highlight? Oh, I make the rules here so yes! Have both.

In summary: Another Eastern fusion riff on the Bone Daddies/ Flesh & Buns concept but so nice and different enough that you don't care.

7.5/10

Shackfuyu
Old Compton Street, Soho, London. W1D 4TJ
020 7734 7492

 

Jinjuu

I love how the restaurant world evolves so quickly in London. A few years ago options  for Korean restaurants would have been limited to the occasional local place run by Koreans for other Koreans with any public comment on their cuisine likely to involve manifestly unfair references to eating dog. I'm not a fan of the proliferation of start-of-the-year "food trends for 2015" articles littering the internet but you have to admit that a lot of them have hit the nail on the head with a nod to the continued explosion of last year's Korean theme.

Granted, a lot of focus has been on fried chicken and kimchi pickled vegetables but Jinjuu is so much more than that.  Billed as a Korean fusion restaurant and also described as being home to a 'celebrity chef' I have to admit I wondered what I was letting myself in for. Fusion can be very hit and miss and quite frequently restaurants that rely on PR about "celebrity chefs" focus on that fact because the food ain't up to much. In this case I was very wrong.

The stairwell downstairs

Chef Judy Joo is not someone I was previously familiar with but I like her story, as a desk chained lawyer it inspires me. Starting out as an engineer before becoming a Morgan Stanley trader, sensibly she quit to work at Saveur magazine and become classically trained. A move back to London lead to her working for Gordon Ramsay and for Time Out before involvement with the restaurant at the Playboy Club which, bar various Iron Chef interludes, brings us right up to the present. 

A UK tv show "Korean food made simple" is imminent on the Food Network so if Ms Joo is not yet a household name its likely she soon will be. If she can show me how to make food half as good as what I ate on my first visit to Jinjuu I will be watching.....

The interior is classy, the bar upstairs is dark and sleek perfect for dalliances in dark corners over cocktails whereas the restaurant area downstairs has booths and tables all with a view of the kitchen where flames leap from hissing hot woks. In summary a hybrid of Hakkasan meets Flesh & Buns. 

Posters of androgynous K-pop pretties adorn the walls of the loos with a matching soundtrack to accompany ablutions. That and a door covered in Korean Spam adverts because... well just because I guess.

Although Judy Joo is the name in all the press releases (and by all accounts is presently qite hands on in the kitchen - she was there when we ate) the man with his hands firmly on the tiller is Head Chef Andrew Hales who's background includes stints with the Rouxs and the Pont de la Tour before a role as head cheef at the Playboy Club which last placing all three keys chefs have in common.

Enough about the facilities though and onto the food. Edamame were perhaps the most perfect specimens I've ever tried. Covered in a dusting of spices (some kind of fish sauce and garlic definitely featured in the mix) they were both fiery and juicy in equal measure and infinitely munchable whilst poring over the menu. The portion is also enormous and most of them came home in a tub and were just as good cold in front of the tv later on.

The menu is divided between small plates known as "Anju" designed as snacks to accompany drinks and larger main courses. You could order a small plate or two each before a main or pile in and all share a selection. 

Sae-woo pops (£7.50) are deep-fried minced prawn balls on a stick with a fiery gojuchang mayonnaise to dip. They come to the table piping hot with a crisp shell on the outside giving way to a springy prawn rich filling. If your visit is anything like mine you will be hard pushed to see a single table not adorned with a sputnik of sticks bearing these treats.

Mandoo steamed beef and pork dumplings were good, packed with meat although the skins were not quite as thin and were a little tougher than a good dim sum.

Fried chicken sliders were just ridiculously delicious. Fried flavoursome thigh chicken meat is tender and juicy with an explosively crispy coating. Sweet, sticky gojuchang red sauce and black soy with mayo all keep it moist and put you in peril of a drizzle down your chin. A mini brioche bun is almost into perfection territory; scratch that- it is perfect! I even ate the lettuce because pulling it out would have risked losing some of that precious sauce and that's saying something.

After the sliders it was impossible not to try a portion of the fried chicken. A choice of either thigh or wing makes up the options.  For larger groups you can plump for an entire chicken deep fried whole. The sauce served with the fried chicken is little short of the crack of the sauce world. I kept finding myself pouring more and more on my plate and frankly only just stopped short of needing physical restraint from pouring it onto a spoon and lapping it up like a pussy cat. 

The highest praise possible is that both of us simultaneously developed criminal tendancies and contemplated snaffling it away in our handbags.  A plate of radish cubes with black sesame seeds act as an effective palate cleanser after all that grease. 

A main course of glazed short rib beef was served the traditional way in cubes with lettuce leaves to heap with meat, kimchi, spiced radish and toasted seaweed. More of that sauce might have made its way into the parcels too. Alongside the beef are chargrilled vegetables and garlic chips which add another flavour and texture dimension.

The only thing that made me sad was that it was USDA beef; we have very good cows in the UK you know Judy!

Whilst the wine list isn't bad, it also didnt thrill me so I'd recommend cocktails as the way to go, especially as all the staff seem very empassioned by them! I tried a Lychee Lover; lychee liqueur, champagne   - possibly the prettiest smelling cocktail you could ever try, almost wearable as a perfume. Gun Bae!

My pictures do not do the desserts justice. Quite often in Asian restaurants desserts are very much an afterthought but here they are just as perfect as the savoury food. Not surprising as the restaurant has a dedicated patisserie chef in the form of Jaime Garbutt who has just as impressive a pedigree as the other chefs having worked in various classic restaurants of the non-Asian variety such as Petrus and Ottolenghi. Its fair to say that they aren't Asian desserts but desserts with an Asian twist. 

A yuzu pudding cake was served with sesame tuile biscuit and coconut ice cream. Yuzu is apparently called Yuja in Korea but its the same delicious citrus flavour (I always think its somewhere between lime and grapefruit). The sesame tuile was quite strongly flavoured though so a little more yuzu would be great.

The  next dessert was essentially a very fancy version of a Snickers bar. A heavy, creamy peanut parfait is served alongside an oddly (but not unpleasantly) chewy doughnut thing filled with sweet sesame and salted caramel. A rich, thick chocolate ganache and lashings of crunched caramel crumbs balance it all out texture wise.  

Jinjuu
15 Kingly Street, London. W1B 5PS
0208 1818887

Would I go again? In a flash! I tried booking for 4 days later but they were already full. In good news though apparently they are soon to introduce lunchtime take away so we can keep getting a fix of that food without going through reservation hell. 

Highlight: Fried chicken & its sauce and edamame

Summary: Proper Korean meets Soho cool but you for once you can book!

8/10  Would have been 9 but I'm taking a mark off for the annoying habit of the card machine asking you to add a gratuity when service has already been included. Its a pet hate and I've mentioned it before but it feels a little grabby and deceptive. That's my only negative. 

Le Chalet, Selfridges

We were supposed to be meeting at the Savoy for drinks at 6.30pm. I got caught up in the shops. Then he got delayed at work. Then there was no 3G. I passed the time by ambling around Selfridges food and beauty halls buying things I shouldn't have with my arms getting ever wearier with each bag added to the fray then I remembered the new "Le Chalet" bar on the roof. He agreed to hotfoot it from the City and I prepared to settle in with a cocktail list.

There is a lift near the main entrance dedicated to getting to the fifth floor and when you emerge its to a Narnia like tunnel of trees and fairy lights. 

A honeycomb Old Fashioned was exactly what I needed post-shopping. The bar staff make them properly; swirling in a bit of whisky then a bit of ice then a bit more whisky until the glass is full. If I'm honest I couldn't identify any distinct honey flavour but didn't care as it hit the spot magnificently. At the moment its still fairly warm so with the heaters and flames so I was in dire need of a cold drink but the alcoholic hot chocolates look obscenely good and I can't wait to drink one outside on the roof another time.  How good does a Cuban sound- Rum, Cinnamon & Chocolate? Or Hazelnut almond liqueur, dark chocolate and hot chocolate. 


The dining area is decked out in fairy lights, lanterns and mini alpine trees all adding to the low lit glow.

Granted, the name is far from imaginative but I suppose you know what you're getting. Yes, there's also a strong risk that Arabella and Jasper will be knocking back hot chocolate and braying about apres ski in Courcheval/St Anton/Klosters and the time that Squibby once skiied down a black run topless after one too many schnapps. Yes, its also a bit early for Alpine scenes but come Christmas it will be fabulous, I promise - stop fighting it and go with it, you just need to get into the mood. 

Run by the people from Q Grill in Camden, the kitchen offers a varied menu both in terms of style of food and prices- mains range from £13-40. It is a bit of an exercise in crowdpleasing with some dishes veering from the theme (not sure how 'Alpine chalet' a  but I'd expect that Selfridges get a good deal of input into making sure it fits every demographic. 

Barked Shortrib with caramelised parsnip mash was a no brainer sitting squarely in the mid price bracket at £19. I'm not entirely sure what made the shortrib "barked" but whatever it is I hereby decree that all shortrib from henceforth and forever more should be "barked" because it tasted bloody delicious. As delicate and prone to falling apart as Kerry Katona on a reality tv show, its held together only by a charred outer crust and something unidentifably sticky but sweet. Just to make you feel like you're not a complete carniverous neanderthal there's also a sprig of something green and utterly superfluous, excellent. 

Buttermilk chicken schnitzel was an absolute triumph. Hammered thin, coated in a light, crisp coating it still managed to be really succulent. The accompanying blue cheese fondue was one of nicest things I've eaten in ages; smooth and creamy with a subtle blue cheese tang - not in the least bit overpowering. 

A side order of broccoli and chilli may not have been the most exciting dish Ive eaten this year but it was great with the schnitzel and made me feel a modicum towards healthy.

Dessert was skipped in favour of a bag of macarons and chocolates that I'd accidentally acquired from Pierre Herme, Pierre Marcolini and Artisan du Chocolat downstairs in the foodhall (so many good things in one place!) but the fabulous sounding "Apple Struesel with Lashings of Custard" did make my mouth water. "Egg Nog Snow Egg" still has me baffled...

There was some confusion over the wine, I thought I'd ordered a Chilean Cab Sauv and wasn't paying attention properly and before I knew it the Waterford version from Stellenbosch had been poured. At £60 a bottle its overpriced but a cook hearty cab sauv rich in ripe blackcurrants. 

If you're a cigar fiend they also have a decent humidor and lots of outdoor seating and blankets to enjoy it.  Like all the rooftop pop up restaurants, it won't be around forever is bound to get busier towards Christmas so get down there as soon as possible.

Would I go back? Yes definitely, I've been dreaming of the food all week since I ate there!

Highlights: the location (helped by the fireworks, granted) and that Schnitzel and blue cheese fondue

Summary:  The overall effect is even cheesier than my blue cheese fondue but its a lot of fun. Go and do it. 

7.5/10

I eat out far too much for my own good and as a result its pretty rare that I get fixated on a dish but that schnitzel and blue fondue kept sticking in my mind so I found myself back there only a week later mid shopping trip begging for a table for one. It was just as good the second time and even better when accompanied by boozy hot chocolate. Its gone up half a point as a result....

8/10

Le Chalet
Selfridges, Oxford Street

Rules

Fighting our way past a rag-tag group of Guanabara carnival dancers (some of whom might want to rethink a sequinned g-string in a breezy overcast Covent Garden - and I'm not just talking about the women) was not how I had imagined my arrival at Rules. 

This was not my first visit to Rules, the last time being almost a decade ago and as a host for a work dinner back in the days when entertainment budgets had several zeros.  I had one of those 'cultural sensitivity' incidents that those who work in a corporate environment with an avid HR team will be painfully conscious of.  Smoked salmon arrived. A table of colleagues of around 10 different nationalities all looked in bemusement at the beige fabric parcel on their plates. After seeing me pick it up prod it with a fork and squeeze liquid out onto the salmon tentative questions were asked - the main one being "but why?". Nil points for British Cuisine so far then. Things carried on in the same vein with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. It didn't occur to me to warn them that the innocuous creamy sauce on their plates concealed fire in the form of horseradish the result being a United Nations worth of lawyers joined in their common hatred of British food through tears streaming down their faces. I recall an Indian gentleman spluttering "I like spices, I eat a lot of chilli, but this? This is evil!!!" Oops, no job offers in diplomacy for me in the near future. 

The positives that I do remember from that evening were both the attentive service and the beautifully decorated private room we were squirrelled away in so it would prove interesting to see if the experience was the same for common or garden diners. I also learnt that very few people of any nationality can find treacle tart offensive and thank goodness for that. 

Rules has a significant history to it not least for having been one of various central London destinations where the then Prince of Wales ('Bertie' to his friends) carried on his secret - or not so secret - assignations with mistress Lillie Langtry. Even now regulars can enter via a private door reputed to have been used by Langtry. Stories of this ilk combined with the chockload of antiques and pictures and a Covent Garden location makes it a mecca for tourists. Indeed, on this visit Japanese and Americans made up a majority of the diners.

So, fast forward ten years or so and is Rules still the same place? This time we were sat downstairs in the main room nestled under an unusual painting of Maggie Thatcher - see what I mean?

The impressive reputation of "London's Oldest Restaurant" brings with it a certain level of expectation and cachet. This assumption of cachet seems to be directly reflected in the attitude and demeanour of various of the serving staff who treat guests with a certain froideur usually reserved for the snootiest of Parisian brasseries which is unfortunate as the food is very decent. Our waiter was distinctly unhelpful, seemingly adopting an attitude designed to make you feel as though you should be grateful to be there.

The menu is understandably very traditional and very British. You're never going to come here looking for culinary wizardry or foams, savoury snows and anything sous vide. A starter of smoked duck salad with stilton was good but largely down to the quality of the ingredients rather than any level of culinary expertise.

A dressed crab with a delicately flavoured aioli was plentiful and, again, of excellent quality. 

Smoked salmon (£15) was served with that pesky lemon muslin again with the option of chopped egg or not. personally I find the addition of egg a little too breakfast but nice touch nonetheless. 

I was abroad for the glorious twelfth so this was my first occasion of the year to eat grouse. A whole grouse no less (£32). In hindsight I should probably have taken up the option of the bird being pre carved and served ready to eat but I got all cocky (see what I did there?) and decided I could do it on my own. So a carcass arrived at the table, feather strewn legs and all and I got to work with a rather large knife. Not a very sharp knife incidentally so it did all rather descend into a Neanderthal display of tearing meat from fowl.  The Americans sat at the table next to me looked slightly horrified. The flavour was good though- just the right side of gamey and still moist- and although I might have regretted how I'd opted to have it served I was glad I went for it. I somehow always manage to forget that "game chips" aren't chips at all in the British sense but crisps. I know its tradition but it still feels weird having a plate of meat, veg, gravy and the best part of a packet of crisps. 

Steak and kidney suet pudding (£18) was hearty with a suet pastry so full of grease it was almost translucent. Breaking it open revealed a rich, meaty filling surpassing all of our expectations. Vegetables and sides are well cooked if unexciting.

Desserts are of the rich and comforting variety; sticky toffee puddings, lemon meringue pies and almond tarts. All nursery favourites that never grow old. 

Would I go back? I'm sure that I will, although not on a regular basis, its rather too pricey for that. If you want to experience the place without the almighty price tag then pop into the upstairs bar for a cocktail. 

Highlights: The crab, the pomp of the surroundings and all the desserts.

Summary: It feels like its become a little touristy but can still be relied on to provide well executed British food albeit at an eyebrow raising price and will undoubtedly remain as part of London's dining Establishment for years to come.

6/10

Rules

35 Maiden Lane, Covent Garden, London. WC2E 7LB

0207 8365314