Steirereck, Vienna

In order to keep my greedy and rather fussy tummy happy I have to have a day job. A day job which involves a reasonable amount of travel. Business travel is a funny old thing; I'm not silly enough to try, as many do, to claim that its all a big drag and terribly tiresome as it can be lots of fun but there are times when it is genuinely a bit of a pain. Travelling from airport to hotel in the dark then straight to an office to cram in as much work as possible before eating whatever late night food room service can offer (usually a dubious quality margherita pizza). That isn't fun by anyone's standards. Occasionally though there are a few golden hours that can be snatched and I've learnt that you need to make the most of them.

A small window of opportunity arose during a business trip to Vienna. If its all you're going to see of a city then why not aim for the best you can? A quick Google search found Steirereck  serendipitously located a five minute walk from my conference hotel alongside the river in the middle of the city's Stadtpark and currently listed in 9^th place on the San Pellegrino list of the top restaurants in the world. Despite its 2 Michelin star ranking, naysayers on the internet have mentioned that they do not believe service to be of standard but that absolutely wasn't my experience. 

Each large round table has its own console table where cutlery for forthcoming courses is stored along with nifty little cards giving immense detail in English of the components of each course. Extra bonus points for the presence of my favourite totally frivolous addition; a handbag table (stupid I know but I love them)

My fellow diners on a midweek lunchtime were made up from an even split of locals, business lunches and tourists and the atmosphere was light and airy and not overly stiff. The ceiling is covered in beautiful ceramic flowers and leaves making it quite feminine but very very classy. It is a family owned restaurant, chef Heinz Reitbauer stays behind the hobs whilst wife Brigit runs front of house and circulates chatting to everyone.

Most restaurants make do with a bread tray but the in house bakery offering from Steirereck is so extensive that it requires a trolley. Over 12 different options were presented, in many cases still in whole loaves for fresh carving at the table. I tried three types in total including a honey and lavender loaf, a fennel and coriander Urleib and a bacon bread the latter fit to rival that of Pied a Terre which remains fixed in my mind some 5 years on. In essence; the bread is immense. 

Butter was presented in stripes on a slate as though it had been scraped on using one of those plastic tools that tilers use to apply grout behind bathroom tiles. Lemon salt ridges added another dimension to the home made butter.  A translucent sliver of cured Austrian ham was served as a canape pegged onto an odd but innovative food "washing line" (look out for that line again later at petit four time...).

A Prager Gruner Veltiner was typically crisp and light with sharp green apples and faint tropicals on the palate. I had intended sticking to just two glasses of wine it being lunch on a work day with a meeting to head off to later in the afternoon but the sommelier had other ideas. Once we go chatting it was clear I needed a much broader introduction to Austrian wine whilst on their home turf and I suspect by the time I left the other diners viewed me as some level of functioning alcoholic from the number of glasses on my table. 

The Cuvee Impresario from Weingut Paul Kerschbaum felt like quite a Bordeaux style of red from the velvety, vibrant, cassis and almost cocoa and tobacco nose so I was very surprised to find out there was only 20% Merlot, the rest being made up of Zweigelt and Blaufrankisch.  Another mystery wine turned out to be a 100%  Blaufrankisch; full of pink peppercorns was light on intensity but high on cranberry fruit.

A plate of cured wild boar's head was spiced with cloves, cinnamon and pepper but completely avoided being too "Christmas spice" as it was balanced off against a sweet pineapple mustard with a kick blobbed amongst a raddichio salad dressed with galangal balsamic vinegar. Cubes of jellied grape juice added bursts of sweetness. It might all sound like a hotch potch of flavours and textures but it really worked. Not only did it taste divine but it looked like a miniature work of art.

Crayfish with parsnip strudel & lime was the stand out dish of the meal. The strudel was actually a milk based gel wrapped around the parsnip puree. Spikes of parsnip crisp dotted along the top of the strudel added texture. The crayfish were beyond succulent and, whereas I plan on how I can recreate dishes I love at home, I know that I don't have a chance of anything coming close to this. Candied lime segments and noilly prat helped cut through the creaminess and contrasted beautifully with the crayfish.

The Wiener Schnitzel is surely a must when in this part of the world. It seemed a little incongruous with the two star dishes and service (kind of like having Shepherd's pie at the Ledbury or something) but I wanted to experience it. Served very plain with just parsley buttered potatoes and a lemon wedge, the schnitzel was tender and moist. What surprised me most, however, was the outer crisp. I've always thought of schnitzel as being breaded and quite heavy but this was more like a fancy tempura version the outside of which would have remained a shell even without its meaty filling. One of the things that appealed to me most about the restaurant was the fact that it prides itself on providing classic Austrian cuisine to an exceptional standard so I felt like I was experiencing something truly local. Spoilt princess comment coming up, but sometimes restaurants that fit the "Michelin mould" can start to feel a bit same-same. You could be in London, Paris or New York and not really be able to identify which city you are in from the decor, the staff or the dishes. Steirereck is an exception to this; waitresses wear a semi- traditional "dirndl skirt" kind of outfit without being Sound of Music-esque and breads, wines and ingredients are all so very obviously Austrian. 

Dessert arrived in the form of a carre of rectangles of heavy chocolate ganache on a shortcrust base along side a pineapple tartare. Pineapple and pericorn sorbet was served aloft coconut macarons. All in all it was rather a pina colada style confection and very tasty but not quite up amongst the lofty heights of the crayfish dish or the boar's head.

Feiler Artinger's Ruster Ausbruch was an incredible wine. Made from noble rot grapes it is deliciously sweet with creamy lemon and honey notes with some dried apricot. In my opinion it can rival the finest noble rot wines I have ever tasted. To my dismay the sommelier confirmed that nowhere in Vienna stocks it to buy as it is sourced from the cellar door. The good news for Londoners however is that those clever people at Fortnum & Mason seem to have adopted it as one of their house dessert wines (here) where it comes in at about £27 for a half bottle.

The "washing line" returned as a display line for various little sweets, the most interesting being a pink jelly envelope filled ravioli style with fruit puree. 

If you like this style of dining and you are going to Vienna please, please visit Steirereck, I promise that you won't regret it.

Meirerei Steirereck

Downstairs on the ground floor is the more casual Meirerei (or “dairy”) which is still rather on the swish side with white gloss tables and neon light art. Serving traditional Austrian and Viennese dishes but specialising in local cheese and milk based drinks. For less than £10 each you can get a large glass of decent local wine and a platter of cheese, each labelled and accompanied by a recommended order of eating. Most were delicious but unfortunately I'd have to counsel against the primeval ooze known as 'Vorarlberger Sauerkase' for all but those with the strongest of constitutions. I can merrily eat Stinking Bishop but this stuff made it look like Dairylea strength wise. I tried drinking wine, gulping water, eating crackers but nothing was going to remove the feeling that I had eaten a fetid rat corpse. 

Other much more positive cheese highlights included Bachensteiner (a soft cows cheese in the Alsacien style washed in brine and sometimes in wine- often available from La Fromagerie), and Osterkrohn (a strong blue but creamy hard cheese). A really good selection of Austrian wine is served by the glass or in little flights so its a good place to get an introduction to real local specialties.

So if you're looking for a glass of wine or a snack during a walk through the Stadtpark then I would definitely recommend Meirerei, it also has an outside platform which is gorgeous when the sun is dappling through the trees.

8.5/10

Steirereck

Am Heumarkt 2A / im Stadtpark
A-1030 Wien
Tel.  +43 (1) 713 31 68

Flesh and Buns

Flesh and Buns. It sounds rather sordid before you even arrive doesn't it?  Carnal cuisine. Descending down a staircase beneath a projector screen of manga cartoons you enter through red doors to a buzzy underground room where excess seems to be the order of the day. At one end of the long narrow hangar of a restaurant is a bar with Asahi on tap and row upon row of sake. At the other is the kitchen, open to the floor and populated by an array of generally rather tasty chefs churning out plate upon plate of glistening meat and steaming sweet hirata buns. in between the two sits a long high canteen style table populated by an array of different people. Lots of homesick Japanese girls relishing the type of food rarely seen outside the land of the rising sun, some random rockers with long hair and enough earrings to cause havoc at a Heathrow metal detector, confused looking tourists, groups of gossiping girls and the ubiquitous beardy hipster. In summary, there is something here for everyone. 

Yes, its street food best eaten with your fingers, yes, the conversation is loud and the atmosphere bustling so no, don't take your Mum or a business meeting; the lack of table manners required to communicate and eat would likely horrify both. Second or third date however, and this might be your ideal place. 

I've learnt my lesson the hard way with these quick and dirty street food style places, based on recent experiences at Chicken Shop and Dip & Flip; don't go for the wine. That's probably a slightly unreasonable prejudice here as the wine list is more extensive than I expected but I'm going down the sake and cocktail route tonight. I kicked off with ume no yado (or sake blended with yuzu juice to you and me) and bar a brief stray into lychee martini territory, the sake is where I stayed for the rest of the evening. 

F&B is always destined to be a place where your eyes are bigger than your stomach. Seeing (and smelling) plate upon plate drift past the table en route to hungry tummies, we overdo the ordering. The waitress recommends two or three small plates and one main course. We laugh. One main course seems bonkers so a second one is added. The menu is so good that we could easily have ordered twice as much again. We leave fit to burst. Prawn tempura is not cheap for a starter at £12 but by the time we'd devoured them felt like good value. Five absolutely giant prawns in a light, crispy batter come with a yuzu dressing sharp enough to make your whole face pucker up. 

Tuna tataki was seared gently around the edges served with a lurid green jalapeno sauce just the right side of spicy. As tempting as it was to carry on working our way through the small plate section (fried squid with japanese pepper and lime and the grilled asparagus with sweet miso will be definitely be getting eaten on my next visit) but there is the small matter of meat to attend to.

I'm utterly confident that a mushroom has never made me swear out loud before. It was so good it was ridiculous. Deep and smoky shitake meatiness stuffed with a sesame wafu dressing on yakitori sticks. The only time I have ever tasted anything remotely close to this (and even then it wasn't as good) was in an izakaya on Omoide Yokocho in Tokyo. 

So onto the meat. Roast piglet belly is succulent and juicy with a crispy skin on top cut into the most perfectly straight strips ready to pop into the buns. Served with a sweet mustard miso sauce and super thin slices of pickled apple they are like the best sort of oriental twist on a hog roast. 

The hirata buns are soft and fluffy and hot enough to burn your fingerprints off.  The salad was completely surplus to requirements the pickled something or other that comes with each "flesh" option is enough to cut through the grease and provide a bit of a tang. Apologies for the fact my only photo of a stuffed bun is one I had rather childishly poked eyes in.....

The duck was shredded at the table like at a Chinese and had properly crispy skin. A sour plum soy sauce  and shredded beetroot took it one step beyond the usual cucumber and hoi sin and the hirata buns are waaaaaay superior to the usual floury little pancakes. 

Sitting at our table smacking our sticky lips and rubbing swollen bellies, anyone might have thought we were ready to throw in the towel but the problem was that I had heard about the S'mores. 

S'mores have been much publicised but with good reason. A charcoal burner is brought to the table with your raw ingredients.  I am the god of hell fire and I bring you..... S'MORES. 

You get a slab of marshmallow on a stick which you toast good old campfire style over a fire pot. Having not done this since I was a kid I had forgotten quite what a fine art it is, hover for too long and it sets fire and you're huffing and puffing it out, too little and its not melty enough. or as L put it "quite flammable little buggers aren't they?" Just as its about to drop off the stick or completely incinerarate into charcoal you slap it on a biscuit, top with the green tea chocolate and sandwich with another biscuit. 

Kinako donuts are unusual little beasts, quite hard on the outside and more savoury than you expect (although that might be because my teeth were still smarting from the sweetness of the s'mores) the sugar coating is made from finely powdered kinako soya beans mixed with powdered sugar. Filled with a creamy paste they are nonetheless pretty darned good. 

A special mention has to go to the toilets, all decorated with manga cartoons. The photo above is one of the less graphic ones so if you do go to Flesh & Buns (and you absolutely must) make sure you pay them a visit.

I adore Flesh & Buns. It really is a first for London providing a truly accessible mainstream experience with genuine Japanese food that goes beyond the average perception of sushi and ramen as being the totality of all things Japanese, there is so much more (although go to sister restaurant Bone Daddies for great examples of ramen too).

So Flesh & Buns, it's sticky, its messy, its loud and it makes you groan and exclaim with pleasure, almost carnal after all then. 

They are currently offering a flesh, bun and beer offer for £15 on Mondays when you reserve in advance (yes, they take reservations- even better!) so there's no excuse not to get down there and indulge.

Flesh & Buns
41 Earlham St, London WC2H 9LX
020 7632 9500

Afternoon Tea at Fortnum & Mason

My eternally English obsession with afternoon tea continues but I think this time I've found something that really beats the usual sandwich and scone combo. Fortnums offer a wide selection of options for afternoon tea ranging from the (I hesitate to use the word really) "basic" option of "Afternoon Tea" (£40) to "Savoury Afternoon Tea" (£42) culminating in the "High Tea" (£44). I'd always wondered what the difference was between afternoon tea and high tea and now I have my answer. 

High tea is more elaborate and includes a hot dish followed by all the cakes and scones that come with the straightforward afternoon tea so is somewhere between tea and dinner. Despite being a few pounds more than the basic offering, for me this is the best option. My Lobster Omelette Victoria in lobster bisque sauce with shaved truffle was truly beautiful and was priced at £19 for that dish alone on the lunch menu. Large, tender chunks of lobster flesh punctuated the fluffy omelette whilst the bisque added a saffron tinted slick of richness. There are around 8 other options that you can choose from including kedgeree, eggs benedict and roast ham and cheese souffle but the lobster was a no brainer for me. Its not the prettiest thing you've ever seen as its covered in a grilled melted cheese gooiness but take it from me, if you like lobster and cheese then you will love it. 

I had initially been a bit reluctant at the price tag for what felt like tea above a shop but you are a world away from the craziness of the tourist infested tea-hunting frenzy on the ground floor of the shop. The cranky old wooden lift takes you sedately up to the top floor and you emerge into a light and airy, serene heaven. A gentle hubbub of chatter and the tinkling of a grand piano is punctuated by the chime of a tea spoon or the faint clatter of bone china cup against saucer. 

The tea offering is as wide as you would expect from one of London's finest purveyors of teas. If you really love tea then you will be left dizzy by the bewildering variety of options on offer.  I may have mentioned before that my ability to really enjoy an afternoon tea is a little hampered by the fact that I fundamentally don't like tea so I'm usually left hunting for one that won't be too icky. I plumped for the green tea with elderflower and shocked myself by really loving it (luckily they sell it in bags on the ground floor so I now actually do drink tea- amazing, its only taken the best part of three decades....) 

My general disdain for all things tea usually results in champagne being an obvious replacement- after all doesn't afternoon tea always feel like an occasion? Except this time I went English opting for F&M's house English sparkling in the form of Camel Valley. 

Very fresh and shouting green apples with a hint of pear, its an excellent choice especially in the terribly British surroundings of Fortnums. If you're a complete traditionalist though and need your fizz to be French then prices are not completely insane for the location. Billecart Salmon comes in at £58 or 2006 vintage Louise Roederer at £60 making the list prices a lot more competitive than most hotel afternoon teas.

So far so, well, pretty much perfect actually! In contrast, however, Mum wasn't faring quite so well with her "standard" afternoon tea as the sandwiches that kicked off were five rather measly fingers. Although they were well flavoured they were limited in quantity and not the most exciting ever. 

Scones are accompanied by your choice of a jar of jam and best of all you get to take the rest of it home with you. Buttery and crumbly and still warm they hit the spot.

A carousel of two-bite cakes appeared with something to please everyone; from chocolate to lemon to raspberry to praline it was all there. The rose petal eclair was my favourite- very delicate without being too floral. 

Even a jammy dodger or two snuck in......

As if you hadn't already had enough cake, the meal culminated in a choice of larger cakes -or a bit of all of them-  from a trolley (or Coronation Cake Carriage as its rather grandly named) in the centre of the room. 

Here's a close up of those cakes and yes I ate them all.......

I managed a mere mouthful of a very creamy, sponge finger raspberry confection before I feared I would explode and disappeared off into the fading sun with the rest of my little pot of jam and my new found love of elderflower tea bags. I would definitely go back for a special occasion it was all delightful from start to finish. 

Fortnum & Mason Diamond Jubilee Tea Room
Piccadilly
London

Shake Shack, London

Last October during a road trip around New England my Shake Shack cherry was well and truly popped by visiting both the Boston and New Haven restaurants. To say that I was effusive with praise is maybe an understatement. I was therefore keen to try the newish London outpost despite the bad reviews that proliferate the internet.

Despite my enthusiasm for hot beef and cheese, I'm really, really bad at queuing. I don't mean in a European, all elbows in a crowd and not knowing how to stand in a straight line 'bad' kind of a way but more from an impatient, rolling eyes, stroppy perspective. There was therefore not a cat in hells chance that I was going to be amongst those initial lines snaking their way through Covent Garden when Shake Shack London opened back in August 2013. Does that mean I'm a bit behind the curve? Definitely. Do I care? Definitely not. 

It is also not just one queue that you embark on at Shake Shack. You queue to order then once you have your green plastic ordering gadget you queue to be allocated a table then finally once the gadget starts buzzing and flashing like a lost and demented alien you queue yet again to collect your food at a different hatch.  There are nice touches like the fact that a Shake Shack employee carries your tray to your table for you making you feel as though there is a dollop of customer service in the mix but all the above means that its not anything approaching a high end experience. 

Strange then that there are things Shake Shack do to try and convince you that it is high end. Putting Chassagne Montrachet on the wine list for example although you'd have to be slightly bonkers to order it so I steer clear. 

As with most outings my attention veers quickly to booze once I've an inkling what I'm eating. Shake Shack is unusual for burger joints in that it even has a wine list at all.  The house wine is a little on the rough side. I'm talking so rough that I couldn't even finish it which is virtually unheard of. Frog's Leap Merlot, fizzy on the tongue and with overripe red fruits. I'm pretty confident that this is the wine Miles was talking about in the film Sideways and to misquote him; "I'm not f*@ing drinking this Merlot" either. On the upside, full marks for the plastic cup with funky thumb indent, if you do have to drink your wine out of plastic then this is a pretty good way of doing it. 

In all honesty I wish I'd given the wine a miss (and I NEVER say that) and stuck with the Fifty/Fifty; a mix of half iced tea and half homemade lemonade. Really light and refreshing and perfect with a greasy burger.

So, what about the all important burger? Very good,  but no prize winning rosettes here I'm afraid. Maybe its because I went for a single compared to the doubles that I enjoyed in the US but I found the actual burger a little drier and crumblier in London and less well seasoned. It is still definitely superior to McDs or Burger King but its not reaching the heights of Meat Liquor or Patty and Bun. I think where the difference lies is that this feels like next level fast food as opposed to being a restaurant.

We decided that it was the bun that was giving it the McDonalds type taste; it is that sweet, bleached flour, springy loaf texture as opposed to the good sort of sweet brioche type burger bun.

Cheese crinkly fries were just as good as those in the US although they were a bit stingier on the cheese sauce front. They still rank as some of my favourite ever burger joint chips though. Crispy, golden but fluffy in the middle. 

Each branch has its own local take on "concrete". Concrete is, in theory, essentially posh McFlurry and by posh I mean very posh. Made with proper ice cream custard instead of the vegetable fat ice cream that most fast food places use, the Union Jack was chocolate frozen custard blended with chunks of St John bakery chocolate brownie and shards of Paul Young dark chocolate and salted caramel. It was utterly delicious.

Ultimately though, I think the Union Jack concrete was indicative of where the problem lay for me with this Shake Shack. It's trying to be all things to all people resulting in a series of contradictions. Yes, its fun to put very high end, high quality ingredients in the food, yes isn't it terribly amusing to order Chassagne Montrachet with your burger (although a travesty; food & wine matching purists would be spinning at the thought) but ultimately it is still a predominantly open air burger joint in one of the busiest tourist traps in London. I would only ever use it as a pitstop for a refill, I can't imagine meeting friends for a catch up or going on a date there, it all feels too crowded and rushed for a relaxing dining experience which means that top of the range drinks and ingredients feel a bit wasted. 

Its also trying just a little bit too hard. The statement burnt into each table that the wood used was handcrafted in Brooklyn from the surface of a bowling alley. Why did you need to tell me that? It doesn't make me enjoy my fast food any more. If its a way of shouting about how authentically American and retro you are then why try and be so British in your ingredient list and craft beers? This is where the main difference lies between Shake Shack in the US and over here. In the US it behaves as though it has nothing to prove and just offers good burgers at a good price. I think it got rather over hyped before the London opening and that has affected our perception.

I do get that I'm probably thinking about this too deeply. Would I go again? Yes, if I was passing and hungry but even then I think MeatMarket might just edge it for me for the sake of an extra 50 metre or so walk. 

Had Shake Shack opened in London even three years ago we would all probably have been falling over ourselves with joy but London has become so burger savvy that its got to be something really incredible to turn our heads these days. Now I just need to go and try Five Guys.

Shake Shack
24, Market Building, The Piazza, Covent Garden, London WC2E 8RD
020 3598 1360

Chicken Shop Tooting

Chicken Shop, Tooting

A lot of people have been muttering recently about Tooting being the next Dalston or similar and, as much as this seems like a stretch for Tooting at the moment, there is definitely change afoot. Whilst he didn't mention Tooting by name,  Alex Proud summed this London phenomenon up in his Telegraph article last week on the "Shoreditichification" of other London boroughs.  Emerging from Tooting Broadway tube you carry on down the road passing all the lovely Southern Indian and Sri Lankan curry houses - which are well worth a visit another time- for a few more minutes in the direction of Colliers Wood.  Its further than you expect. 

Let's be upfront about this. Chicken Shop is the Soho House group jumping on a surfboard and the joining a tide of other street-food-gets-a-home outlets ebbing their way across London on the crest of a casual dining wave. Chicken Shop is a massive cliche of all the current "must haves" of the London restaurant scene at the moment. No reservations? Tick!  Carefully decorated then deconstructed industrial decor? Tick! So dark you can't properly see what you are eating? Tick! Only offering one main foodstuff in a small range of permutations? Tick! How can it fail?

In addition to the Tooting branch, the first opening still resides in Kentish Town. Expect many more to roll out in a neighbourhood somewhere near you soon.

Yes, its all rather painfully hipsterish from the chipped blue rimmed white enamel plates to the carefully distressed furniture you snag your tights on, to being served wine in the glass tumblers that you used to get water in for school lunches. So why did I like it so much? The chicken is fundamentally just really good. I've never been a chicken person. People will regale you endlessly about the joys of the perfect roast chicken on a Sunday and whenever man flu strikes its all about the chicken soup. I've always been a bit baffled. The humble chook had never hit that comfort food spot for me. Chicken Shop's offering was therefore something of a revelation. Succulent, tender chunks of a chicken infused with an intense, savoury, lightly spicy rub that permeates the flesh and makes it impossible to leave any of the skin despite your best intentions.  To steal a rather more insalubrious chicken outlet's slogan; "Its finger lickin' good". Only here it really is. 

It is also something of a dream for the indecisive. Decision one; quarter, half or whole. Decision two; smokey or spicy sauce. My experience was that both are on the hot side, the deceptively named "smokey" packed a whopper of a punch that had my eyes watering a little so go sparingly if you're not a chilli monster. 

All side orders are £4 each and served in those enamelled bowls. Corn on the cob was a real highlight. Lightly chargrilled and shiny you then have the option of adding lashings of garlic butter poured over the top. Of course you do, as if you wouldn't. You get three half pieces of corn which, if you're sharing, leads to an almighty battle over who gets the last bit. Crinkle cut fries are good and coleslaw not too heavy with a sweet bite.  The only thing I didn't try was the butter lettuce and avocado salad. 

So what do you wash all this comfort food down with? On the wine front there are three options each for red, white and rose listed on the menu as House, Decent and Good. This is the first indicator of how unimportant is to the Chicken Shop offering. The second was upon asking the waitress what the wines were I was told only a grape. It took some more digging to find out which particular corner of the planet grew the grape in question. The "Good" red was an Argentian Malbec and the white an Australian Chardonnay. The others were neither memorable nor things that I would contemplate trying. We opted for Malbec and it was a pretty standard offering. Big red fruits, bit of pepper, pretty easy drinking. I can't  give you any more detail than that though as  I have no idea what sort of Malbec or from exactly where within the country in question as it was served in an enamelled jug . This is more my problem as a wine obsessive than it is their issue, perhaps sticking to a bottle of beer is the best plan.  I did spy a ginger beer flying past my corner on a tray so I'd be tempted by that next time.

In some ways we did rather regret getting a whole chicken between two (I think that its ideal for three) as it meant not enough tummy space for dessert. This was a travesty since, although its a quite basic list of options, they do look good. Apple pie was served to people from an enormous pie dish at the table and you could pick how much you wanted. Lemon cheesecake or chocolate brownie were the other two temptations so in effect all popular bases are covered. 

My main complaint is the fact that it is so dark. Unnecessarily so I thought. No photos for that very reason other than of a beer mat that A thoughtfully half hitched from the bar "so you can at least take a picture of something later". Even the outside isn't illuminated so you haven't even got a shot of that. In fact the people walking down the road behind me assumed it was closed it was so dark. 

Reading back over everything I've written it would be easy to think that I really didn't like the place. Sure, there were plenty of things that meant it wasn't a perfect experience but I will be going again and would definitely also be getting regular take out if I lived a little closer. The fat. juicy, flavoursome chicken makes it all worthwhile. 

Chicken Shop
141 Tooting High Street.






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Graveney & Meadow

There is only so long that you can eat chicken for, especially when a ravenous queue is filling the standing space around your stool hovering like vultures waiting for you to wipe your mouth with a napkin and sit back with a sigh before performing the international signal summoning the bill. We therefore found ourselves back out in the cold night air at only 8.15pm so cocktails were required. Although Tooting is changing its ways there still aren't that many places offering decent cocktails so we headed to Graveney & Meadow.

G&M used to be A Bar 2 Far which was an apt name on the basis that it was rough as hell and a night out would definitely have gone too far if you ended up there which thankfully I never did. What Bar 2 Far's former inebriates and ne'er do wells think of Graveney & Meadow is unclear as they are were not around on the Friday night that I visited. You can create a trendy looking London bar anywhere it seems but you can't quite take the Tooting out of it as we still had to have our bags searched for concealed weapons (I felt for the poor chap as I think my gym kit probably ought to classified as a weapon). 

The standard mismatching furniture is everywhere to be seen and there is something of a sewing theme going on; some of the tables actually are vintage sewing machines. In fact "vintage" was probably the key word at the top of the mood board when the Antic Pubs designers went to town on this one. plenty of exposed brick and antiqued metal ceilings with the remaining walls covered in flowery Cath Kidstonesque fabric which I think had been painted with tea to give it that oldy worldy 'people smoked lots in here for years before the smoking ban' look. Sure enough at the corners you could see the bright white fabric poking through from underneath where the decorator's tea brush had not reached.  The walls to the loos are covered in shoe moulds and bits of tailors pattern's and equipment and a hotch potch of anything vaguely "East London tailor circa turn of the 20th century".

G&M isn't only a pub, its also a tapas restaurant at night (not tried the food yet, I was too stuffed with chicken) and a bakery too. The baked goods are all displayed on a table and you pay for them at the bar. It was quite WI market but is very appealing to the daytime Mum's coffee morning crowd I expect. After a couple of cocktails I did get tempted by an Ottolenghi style giant meringue. I tried to buy one to take home but it turned out they are "for display only". That summed things up pretty well for me. 

It is worth a visit if you are in the area though as the cocktails are well made. A black cherry old fashioned was excellent as was a lemony-tart gin and cucumber confection.  Not worth travelling for but a decent pit stop if you are in the area. 

Graveney & Meadow
Mitcham Road.