When everyone including dear Ol’ Uncle B has visited this restaurant, that’s when you know the interwebs has taken to showering yet another crowd pleaser with its ever expanding vocabulary of praise words. “Wondrous”. “Decadent”. “Moorish”. “Decadent”. “Sinful”. “Ultimate comfort food”. Adjectives, which I too, am guilty of overusing. Cynicism aside, a restaurant that has collected as many reviews as it has since it’s April debut, must be doing something right. Somehow, I had managed to avoid the 50% discount circus, though the full asking price wasn’t too bad. To grease the wheels, we started with not one, but two plates (£1.50 each) of their excellent warm, crusty and soft sourdough (ironically, warm bread is abit of a rarity in London restaurants) served with some excellent artichoke puree, which i gather is, must be made in house. I ordered one of their fresh juices, the ‘invigorate’ of pineapple, apple, lime and strawberries. Sadly it was anything but invigorating… and note to self, never drink pineapple and strawberry juice from the same glass. Service was a little jumpy, but well intentioned, they had a tendency to take things away before we were done with them, like the wedge of pineapple, which I had initially wanted to savour when I finished my juice, for instance. Believe the hype, the decor is absolutely top class. Like the Tardis, it’s unimpressive on the outside,
Consider this as the side project. An epilogue of a visionary concept. A retelling of a story told from another point of view. The breakfast room for hotel guests. Yes, The Corner Room is the child of Nuno Mendes’ Viajante, both nestled within the zen like confines of the uber cool Townhall hotel in uber edgy Bethnal Green on the East end. A spin-off, an overflow room for those who don’t like the idea of advanced reservations at the ultra fantastic temple of modernist gastronomy downstairs. Perhaps the best part of it all, is how low-key The Corner Room has been kept. There is no weblink or phone and therefore takes no reservations and is totally egalitarian, if you can find it. You’ll have to go through the main hotel reception, instead of the reception to Viajante to find the easily find The Corner Room. If you take the latter route (which we did), you’ll be taken through the guts of the hotel, maze your way through the immaculate designs and occasionally peek into the beautifully designed rooms as they are being kept. The Townhall hotel is a marvelous hotel. It’s a work of wonder. It’s understated and because of this, it probably makes cooler than staying at say The Renaissance, whose goth granduer is a little bit of a overwhelming monstrosity. When we did eventually find The Corner Room
One can only admire Russell Norman, Richard Beatty and their merry team for breathing revolutionary life to the London dining circuit over the past two years. It kind of reminds me of the Star Wars prequels, how as each chapter unfolded, came the buzz, the anticipation and the new effects. I thought Revenge was the strongest of them all. The last in the trilogy, the most unique, and the one which wasn’t held back. Come on folks, you gotta admit, Spuntino was special. Russell and co created a landmark with that one. Who knew that truffled egg toasts, ground beef sliders, grits and a brew, would still taste so good the third time round. And so the Russell is back yet again with the fourth (and last) in the Polpo line (until the next revelation comes to his brilliant restauranteur mind) , and its like sitting down to see Episode Four, after seeing Revenge. You’re fooling yourself into thinking you don’t know the score, when in fact, you already do. All the hype is in place, as we’ve seen before, twitter a flutter bearing the good news of the successful soft launch, which will be – inevitably – followed by the barrage of words, photographs, videos and interviews over the coming weeks. Of course, I had to saveur the moment for myself, so I decided to obey the egalitarian policy,
I have never know Queen’s Park in its old days of notoriety, and since uprooting from West London to this part of town; I’ve always felt the safely suburban leafy surroundings was an entirely nice neighborhood to live in. Kilburn is another story altogether however. I’d already written about the lovely Salusbury pub before, and if you follow my twitter feed, you’ll note the weekly oyster popping at the Sunday farmers market, but I have always been itching to put something together regarding the two Italian cafes in Queen’s Park, which are both highly recommended, if you happen to be in the area. Giorgio’s The first candidate is situated on the corner of Salusbury Road. It used to be the grocery bit of Salusbury, and about this time last year, it was rechristened as Giorgios, and redecorated into a lazy corner cafe which served food throughout the day. The pizzas, bolognese arancinis and cannolis are all pretty good, though on this trip, we had arrived for brunch. Swirly hot chocolate to get the day going.. … and a vegetarian fry up. Hmm, wasn’t quite so sure about those vegetarian sausages. However, these bad boys – French toast with streaky bacon and maple syrup – were the stuff. Finally this was a little concoction of mine. Ham, egg and melting cheese ‘breakfast sandwich’. I call it Le GBK. A truly awesome
I really like Leather Lane over lunch hours, because it converts into an electric street market, overflowing with people. It’s like a crack in the universe peering into an alternate world, where Holborn is cool, eclectic, and entirely down with the kids. It is especially special to me, because it’s also home to a very awetastic permanent mobile food cart, which – in my opinion – serves one of the best steak burritos in London. Mucholy hot if you get the burrito with hot salsa. Yowza. Lunchtimes in Leather Lane can get very cramped, extremely bustly and chocked full of life. Topless construction workers woo at passerbirds, women haggling over pashminas, and whatever garments that catches their eye. Legend has it that the Leather Lane street market has nearly 100 years of history. On the topic of history, London was once the capital of coffee sniffing accompanied by a good dose of gentlemanly debate. Affectionately, these coffeehouses were called Penny Universities, as it only costed patrons a penny to enter – referring to the total egalitarian nature of its clientele – which meant anyone from whatever societal class were able to exchange minds on whatever issues they wished to talk about. Of course, not very long ago, the very concept resurfaced when Square Mile roasters decided to create a pop-up brew bar, calling it the Penny University last year.
The reception for the Robot franchise, has been lukewarm, to say the least. Blogs can’t seem to get excited about either Tiny or Giant. Nevertheless, I was still interested in visiting at least one of the two all day diners in town, mainly because they serve one of my childhood nostalgic puddings – the baked alaska. Oh I wet many a diaper watching a waiter set meringue on fire to the effervescence of evaporating alcohol, right by the table. The food is Italian-American, and two restaurants that specialises in signature balls. Meatballs that is. But I didn’t get in any of the full menu action, instead I was looking for a place to brunch, on a sunny Saturday morning. Tiny Robot is situated along Westbourne Grove, and it sits on the ground floor, on top of a members only Starland Social Club in the basement, which is owned by The Rushmore Group. Let me just start by saying that I really like the decor. The space is actually quite small, with diner-style motifs, such as the green leather seats, washed out green tiled walls, aged wooden floors, and retro patterned enamel table tops. It’s great, it’s really comfortable inside. Bring on the coffee. Rum & Vanilla milkshake, Filter coffee. Woah, the rum was pretty stiff! Nice. I initially asked for a cappuccino, but changed it out to just a brew,
Unless you have been living under the proverbial rock that requires abstination from evil things such as sex, alcohol and greasy chips, you would have otherwise heard about the gospel of The Meatwagon. Unfortunately, the wagon was stolen late last year, so in early 2011, Yianni Papoutsis – aka Blighty’s one true burger king – had reassigned his team at the first floor of a closed down pub, in New Cross Gate. The pub had offered its space, as it is in the middle of its refurbishment plans. Yianni’s intention is to be able to secure enough funds to get a new van to roll out for the summer. And thus, #MEATEASY was born. And it’s fucking brilliant. Very rough around the edges, but we don’t mind of course, because we love quirky and egalitarian, rage against the guerilla dives. Upon arrival, you are given a ticket, and then it’s a mad scramble to find a spare seat at the cramped space, as you study the menu scrawled across the wall. The first time I went was a Thursday night at 9, and we didn’t eat till 11. So we spent all our cash on the £7 cocktails and £3 beers. Rum swizzlers aplenty. But when the food arrived, oh my giddy Uncle Bob, it was certainly worth the long wait. As expected, the menu is not for vegetarians, their
I would like to begin by publicly apologising to Russell Norman and his team, because on reflection, I think I was man-pmsing when I wrote the Polpetto review. I was out of line, and rude, and I hope I can be forgiven. Handslap. Most of you are already familiar with the famous bacaro in Soho that is Polpo, and many of you would have heard of the owners, Norman and Beatty’s exciting plans of growing the brand they have created. And while Polpetto was more of the same, except smaller (great ossobuco), the third outfit, Spuntino, is a step in a totally different direction. The Italian influence, is now heavily laced with references to the American diner, the menu is still presented as a personal paper table cloth; except this time round, you can almost hear Robert Frank’s shutter going off in the background to a recital of the bebop beat poetry of Jack Kerouac. Spuntino inherits the winning ambiance from its predecessors and then some. There’s just something very special about this squarish room, in the heart of striptease central. I didn’t like the crammed Polpo and hated the rammed Polpetto, but Spuntino is very close to perfect. Spuntino is tiny, about twenty can sit around the bar, there’s a table for six right at the back, and at the very end of the bar, there is a oversized
Rarely do you come across new openings with a breezier philosophy than Kopapa. The website describes a modest and friendly outlook, also evident from the moment I picked up the phone to book a table, to the eventual visit. Pitched as a cafe & restaurant, this is Peter Gordon’s latest project in London; The New Zealander chef, widely respected as the one true genius of fusion cuisine. His double storied Providores & Tapa Room – high end restaurant upstairs, all day diner/cafe downstairs, based in Marylebone High Street – is a stunner. Especially for breakfast. While I’m not the biggest fan of his adaptation of Changa’s Turkish eggs recipe (poached, yoghurt and hot chilli butter over it), the rest of the breakfast menu – in my opinion – is award winning stuff, for its sheer variety and edibility. So now that he has expanded his operations to an even more central location, it was only natural for critics and blogs to follow his development closely. When I saw a copy of the menu, I was only too happy to see that he had brought over the grazing mentality with him to his new all day diner. The menu is filled with reasonably priced sharing plates, platters, hot soup and larger fish & meat dishes, if one should be so obliged. If you’ve never seen a Peter Gordon menu, be prepared
This restaurant opened to rave reviews by gluttons across London in summer, staking their claim as the very first all day diner in London to be modeled after Bombay cafes. I’ve never been to Bombay, but those who have tried the genuine article (like Guy
You might think that something as modest as a cafe on the side of a towpath, used by neighbouring residents as a jogging and cycling route, would always remain hidden and truly a gem. That can no longer the case in the internet age. This sort of concept
It has taken me about a year to visit Bea’s in Bloomsbury, but I’m glad I finally made it. This tour de force bakery, cake house, coffee & tea shop produces top notch sugary things from their massive kitchen on site on a daily basis. Needless to say,
So you’ve been to every one of the coolest ice cream parlours in town and you need an alternative scoop to Scoop. Well here’s one for your list. Chin Chin is London’s (and Europe) very first nitrogen ice cream parlour. Yes that’s right, instead of freezer-stored ice cream, these guys make theirs by cooling with nitrogen vapours instead. The best part is that it happens right in front of your eyes… while you wait!
Are you melting in the English summer yet? I’m surprised how humid the weather is so far, I went to Uniqlo to get new shorts so I can let the wind blow me dry… …. So there is a new gelateria in town, the same group behind the excellent tour-the-Italian-regions restaurant, Bocca di Lupo, and how very timely too. The gelati are pretty unique rather than just offer a standard selection (such as stracciatella or fiore di latte), there are combos such as ricotta, coffee and honey (which was excellent) and avocado & honey (which was a little off kilter, was a little sour). What I really enjoyed however, were the sorbets, the melon in particular tastes just like frozen cantaloupes, sweet, sugarly, stringly and fresh, just what one needs to cool off really. Even better were their granitas, we tried the watermelon, icy, syrupy and quite literally chipped frozen watermelon. Other granitas on the menu include coffee, blood orange and almond. The only things that disappointed were the cannoli. On paper it sounds interesting, stuffed with pistachio ice cream, fresh pistachios and a dark chocolate icing. It did taste freshly fried, but as it was stored in the freezer, the pastry dough became soggy. If only they fried and stuffed the cannoli (with gelato of choice, and as an alternate choice to wafer cones) to order, that would be
It must be the name. It does something to the wiring of my brain causing me to associate it with many adjectives such as magnificence, opulence, ecstasy, paradise, exorbitance, Sophie Dahl. It must also be the attractive old-world quality it exudes, a quality which has ensure commercial and critical success, over its seven year history
I never had confidence in museum mess halls. Having memories only of torrid experiences both locally and abroad. It is the logical thing to do, after taking in centuries of culture, to then breathe in stereotypical food. Of course, that was until I became a convert to the restaurant at Tate Modern. I wondered then about the general quality of London museum/gallery cafes – maybe it is not so bad afterall
Rather embarrassingly, I allow myself to get lost along the cramped sidewalks of Soho, on the odd occasion. Even with my eight years as an avid London restaurant collector and in the face of advancing technology (Turn the phone around. And again.), I still can’t work out the differences between Beak Street and Lexington Street. Ultimately this is the reason it has taken me so long to visit Fernandez & Wells, already a favourite sandwich bar for many food lovers
I associate fish and chips with the impending arrival of the weekend. Back in the day when I was a spring chicken exploring the dark arts of jellied petrol, I also tended to the student bar. Ah the days of minimum wages – £4.80 an hour, I think. We didn’t even have fancy touch screen tills to work with, and we did all the sums in our head, old school. “A pint of snakebite, nine lagers, five gin and tonics, a shandy, four packets of cheese and onion, my chilli peanuts… and yourself?” . £19.50.The student bar was near the Albert Hall and did I make a lot of money serving BBC Proms participants. Happy days. Ravenous and reeking of alcohol at the end of my shift, I would make my way to the common room for haddock and extra mushy peas – reward for the strenuous work I suppose
We are in the middle of the coldest snap known to mankind. It has decidedly grounded many of us – including the restaurant going republic, in fear that the tipple monster might never lead us home again. Thank the goodens for the dude who invented the neighbourhood cafe, because this means we can venture on nature’s locomotion to fill our tummies without resorting to the perils of mechanical transport
I say this with full confidence in my testosterone-charged manhood : I enjoy watching romcoms on the silver screen – the cheesier the better. Especially when the protagonist is a successful, young creative (but played by an older dude) who lives in an English speaking metropolis (aka NY) drives a dream car (or bike) and owns a penthouse. And he always manages to hang out at the coolest cafes in town, and the sun is always perfectly warm and vibrant – the image of a perfect afternoon cuppa… does it exist, or does it? Oh and there’s always the girl, this one girl especially. Swoon… And then one day, while me and my dreamgirl was strolling back from the park, we bumped into this heavenly spot which looks exactly like a hollywood set. Now all I need is Matthew McConaughey’s torso
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