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, but surprisingly spacious on its inside. The ambiance is genuinely genial, marvellous convivial, like garlic peppering away on a hot pan; this is a hot brasserie bouncing with soul, you want to get up on your two left feet and turn out your best James Brown impression. Get on up indeed.

The small plates, oh the dreaded small plates. The revolution is over, because it’s already taken over the capital. Small plates is such common place now, it’s a surprise when one doesn’t come across a new opening that doesn’t have them on the menu. The small places are fall into three categories: £3, £4 and £5.

Veal & pork sausage, lentils, mustard, sage, £4.

Damn it’s tiny. I doubt these four tiny wedges actually join to make a whole sausage. It tasted good enough, but there wasn’t anything truly genuine about this. I feel the frazzle, I appreciate the glitz, but a sausage split four ways, on a bed of lentils? For £4?. Questionable.

Baby squid, chorizo, smoked paprika, chilli, olive, £4.

and

Chicory, pear, radish, gorgonzola, £3.

The chicory salad was nice, freshing with the schweet pear and the creamy blue cheese; the baby squid was also nice enough, but I was annoyed at literal the small plates were. Granted they were well priced, and cooked well enough, they were boring, and there was little to speak about really. Bubblegum pop.

Chermoula spiced poussin, jalapeno, lemon, £5.

We approach uncharted territory, the £5 plates look like more effort has gone into them, and what a difference £1 makes then. Nicely grilled yes, I’m not sure about the chermoula spices, ie, either the species were shy or a little absent. The cous cous were nice enough. Not quite Yalla-Yalla, maybe Yalla-Yalla-esque, but again, I just don’t understand how this dish ties into the RHC theme, or at all.

Steak tartare, toasts, £5.

By this dish, we were feeling rather full, and quite frankly, we couldn’t complain about the food. There was nothing wrong with the cooking, it tasted good enough, but it also felt incidental. Not enough capers in this tartare, but it’s roughly chopped, alot of citrus, like the rest of the dishes, vibrant, but generally speaking under-seasoned, and missing an egg yolk.

Rack of Pork £14.50
lentils, smoked sausage, horseradish

FINALLY. All the faffing about with the forgettable small plates, the meal begins apropo with the pork chop. Working my way through the small dishes, I was searching for credibility, and I found very little to supporting evidence, which was in total contrast to this dish. But first, I scrapped away the white elephant on the plate, a huge dollop of horseradish cream, ugh, citrus heavy, ugh. I think it’s OK to have the horseradish the side, but I just couldn’t understand why the chef would want to mask his wonderfully grilled rack of pork with that stuff. Mysterious.

The pork was well cooked, just slightly pink in the centre, very juicy, and the crackling was jawbreakingly superb. I’m not the greatest fan of lentils, it’s the taste of beans or peas, it tends to soak up just too much moisture and it drowns out flavour with its own rather drab, and rather dreary flavour, and so I felt the lentils were an unnecessary addition to the pork, it’s already wonderful by itself, it didn’t need the distraction. As I worked through the huge hunk of pig, I discovered three rather curious slices of what appeared to be sausage. WHY? What was the meaning of hiding sliced sausage under the massive pork chop? The mind boggles. I finished by sucking the last bits of meat from the bone. Juicy, but man this dish was strange. Great pork, but perhaps it was just me missing the point, but I thought the recipe was a right mess. Was it meant to be fusion of some kind? Peter Gordon-esque?

Hot Fudge Sundae £6
Macaroons, honeycomb

I liked the pudding, the fudge was really hot, and there was alot of it in the glass. The honeycomb was great, very sweet stuff, especially comforting with an americano.

We paid £63.56 inclusive of service for two.

When you do visit, please steer clear of the small plates, I didn’t actually think they were particularly bad, it’s just they were so tiny, and not particularly outstanding. If you want to share small plates of proper food in a cracking environment, head toward Opera Tavern instead. In my opinion, what RHC are doing with their small plates is working toward (finally) killing the bloody small plates revolution, which has gone on for far too many years. Those recipes were all over the place.

On the other hand, the main dishes looked much better. Of course, I only had one dish, but seeing the fish and chips and burgers roll out of the kitchen, it seemed evident that the £14ish average asking price for the large portioned mains are more than justified. This is the dilemma I have with the food at RHC, the cooking was more than adequate, but you know, part of a good dish is – in my humble opinion – also down to having consistent, well thought out and generally good recipes. If anything, I felt the inspiration behind the food was a little lacking, the philosophy a tad undisciplined. Eating was more a chore than a joy.

I must give it massive props for style. In fact, the decor is so fresh that both the missus and I agreed that we would definitely like to return, for it is simply is a great place to hang out. The squirrel wall lamps are a nice touch, but it were the bold orange leather seats, that made the visit worthwhile. Everything looks fresh, hip and modern here, in fact, the atmosphere is so lively that you really have to visit it for yourself to really experience how cool it can make you feel.

So it’s a real shame that a paradox exists with the Riding House Cafe: That the ambiance possesses all the sass of the modern London all day diner, its a shame the food doesn’t come imbued with the same pizzazz.

The Gist of It

The Riding House Cafe
British £35pp.
43-51 Great Titchfield St W1W 7PQ
Tel : 020 7927 0840
Tube : Oxford Circus

Also riding in the carousel : Winkypedia ; Life Outside The Viewfinder ; The Hardens ; Metro; Hg2Blog ; Bellaphon ; Nordic Nibbler ; The Prodigal Guide ; GT

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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 (unsurprisingly in a corner wing of the first floor) , we were greeted with a distinctly subtle and zen-likeroom. The colour coordination, eye catching and low key was just fabulous, I particular love the large windows, whatever period they are from, as well as the dangling lamps that decorate the wall. The room has character.

Mark and I paid a visit last Saturday for lunch, and were given their weekend brunch menu. There might be a more complete dinner menu, but we didn’t see it.

Taking the low profile approach extends to the purposefully woefully written menu, that easily looks like it was swiped from a greasy spoon, as if to serve as a surprise in an exercise of suppressing the genius that would be served. “House bacon, hash brown & egg” , “avocado on toast” , “smoked salmon & scrambled eggs”.

Salmon & eggs? Far from it, check this out:

Smoked salmon with polenta, avocado & hollandaise, £8.

The smell, the wonderful fragrance of brunch! The salmon, butter, eggs and polenta, all congealing and all an interplay of pillow soft textures, easily glides in to my system. Mmm, there is abit of the cutting edge cooking from downstairs creeping into the recipe here, a dash of avocado cream, a sting of a zesty hollandaise, the custardy poached eggs and paprika infused polenta cake. It’s as beautiful to look as, it was attractive to eat.

Poached eggs with chorizo and paprika potatoes, £8.

The roast filled, relaxant feel of the chorizo and potatoes was morning after breakfast sex for the palate, mmm..

Pork loin & Portuguese bread pudding, £12.

…but this was the one which we both thought was bloody fabulous, prompting my buddy Mark to gesture “This is seriously good food. No fucking around ain’t it, dude.”

The savoury bread pud was from the spring from which comfort food had sprung. Like a rosti soaking with oodles of tomato, peppers and rich umami savouriness. We were both certain the buttery tender pork loins were the result of a master of the dark arts of cooking sous-vide. The original idea of what makes gastronomy the joy it is; an endorphine promoting and necessary part of the day, a celebration of the fact that eating is to refuel life itself.

Mackerel with celeriac & bacon, £6.

The weakest dish of the service, this was flash over substance, and compared to the dishes that came before it, it was easily forgettable. Still for six quid, it was edible art.

Final bill, including a mimosa £7, a glass of bubbles £6 and fresh OJ £2.5 was £55.69 for two.

What I like about the cooking here, is the attention to the cooking. And I say this with all the love for gastronomy from the very depths of my belly : The cooking was very handsome.

Sometimes all that flash and cutting edge modernity can be distracting to an unprepared diner, and if you’re not one to ooh and ahh over the procession, it can be exhaustingly esoteric, thus a little confusing and there is a danger that Viajante’s high end stuff may bore the living daylights off your appetite. But that’s why The Corner Room is special. This unplugged version of Nuno’s mind-bending high end stuff, strikes a perfect chord with the palate, stripping away the noise, and allowing the natural ingredients and the well honed skills of the kitchen to really shine through. This is off the cuff jazz to the disciplined masterpiece of chamber music. And so, this is the alternate interpretation of the travelling chef’s genius. It’s as if the kitchen had laid bare the inner workings of its soul to the public, private nosh turned public, like the way the butcher’s filet became the public’s onglet.

The Corner Room is brilliant. It may even be more fantastic than big brother Viajante downstairs. It certainly is a wonderful brunch venue, and I suspect it will not stay hidden from you guys for very much longer. I love Nuno Mendes’ high end trickery, but I also highly enjoy his low-key flirtation of a stripped down performance.

I fully endorse The Corner room and I suggest you find the time to pay The Corner Room a visit, or perhaps two.

The Gist of It

The Corner Room
Hidden Genius £25pp
No reservations, no phone.
First Floor at The Town Hall Hotel
Patriot Square | E2 9NF
Tube : Bethnal Green

In this coner: Euan Ferguson for TO

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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, and walked in sans booking on their second official day of service, for a lazy Friday lunch.

This new chapter hints at the storied granduer of its predecessors. It inherits several motifs, but is distilled in a more pragmatic manner, a more refined way, a reboot of the el classico order. The best bits of Spuntino, Polpo and Polpetto is apparent in its design – the curtained glass front, the aged walls, the tiles, the creaky wooden floorboards, 50s American rock, hotpants, shaggy tees and rolled up sleeves, and the bar stools. But this one probably wins for it is blessed a skylight, that allows the heavens smile upon its guts every morning, and if you position yourself just in the right spot under the skylight, you might see the tip of the nearby church on Maiden Lane.

The menu printed on the brown paper table cloths, was familiar territory. Pizzette, cicheti, salads, an expanded meatballs and other nibbly Italian bits were present. Da Polpo takes an even more pronounced less is more approach to the food, nothing seemed too challenging, osso bucco, squid ink and lentils were absent.

Bottle of Moretti £4.00 and Arancini, £2.50

I taste sage (I think), I see dollops of mozzarella (I think) and sticky viscous rice. Nice. Wash down with birra.

Whole mozzarella, broad beans, £7.50.

Mmmm, classic. Fresh, buttery broad beans, buttery cheese, buttery olive oil, simple yes, but also something that Obika would envy.

Fennel, curly endives, almonds, £4.

The salads are good, across all four restaurants really.

Grilled sirloin steak, £8.50.

No eggs with this, you can taste hot iron on the surface of the meat, it’s grilled, with no frills.

Piadina Meatball Smash, £8.

The smash is literal, in that it is pressed in between piadina, an Italian flatbread, with cheese and sauce. I chose the classic pork & beef balls, though the full suite includes lamb & mint; spicy pork & fennel; chickpea, spinach & ricotta. The meatballs were nice, comforting and as you’d expect from meatballs, in their powers to heal the soul from a week long battering at the office.

Affogato, £2.5 and Tiramisu pot, £4.50.

To finish, the missus and I were greedy and went for a affogato (each) plus a pot of sinful tiramisu. We ended up fighting over the last scrapings of the pudding from the tumbler.

Cost for two was £42, including service, a glass of wine and a bottle of beer. Classic cooking going on here, this is not a place for cutting edge ideas; rather there are comforting recipes and fresh salads, to accomodate the all day dining mood, those who wish to hang around, to have some booze, to drink some coffee, to take time out for some reading and to laugh the night away.

Like you, I’ve been to all four of Norman’s restaurants. Of the four, my favourite is Spuntino, da Polpo is a close second, and I think they should bring the osso bucco to all four restaurants. All four are accessible, affordable, come with funky and pleasing service but most of all, they are all imbued with the unmistakable and magical hazy amber-lit ambiance. Has Russell Norman’s grand idea of bacaros now reached the rarified space known to few as perfection, or might there be an epilogue which is yet to be revealed? Only time will tell, until then, the octopus worship continues.

The Gist of It

da Polpo
All day Italian small bites, with a skylight. £20pp.
6 Maiden Lane
WC2E 7NA
Tel : 020 7836 8448
Tube : Covent Garden

More photos on my flickr.

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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 sandwich, trust me.

The salt beef sandwiches, ham baguettes and chicken escalopes are also quite formidable as well.

The Gist of It

Giorgio’s
Italian cafe, £15pp
56 Salusbury Road, NW6 6NN
Tube: Queen’s Park

Alimentari

Alimentari is probably more deli than cafe, away from the activity in Salusbury road, and on a rather less glamorous street on Kilburn Lane, but it is worth sitting down for coffee or breakfast for that matter.

Feast your eyes on this Italian breakfast for two, for £19!

Served on a large platter, on it’s own four legs, as our table can’t hold it, and it also comes with ham croissants and two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice as well. Yeah of course, one might say that this is nothing but good foraging, what with their range of Italian cheeses and cured meats, that one could easily whip this up in the comfort of one’s home. But nothing beats sitting in a relaxing cafe, with all of Sunday’s papers in one hand, and coffee in the other. Speaking of coffee, their special is a mocha with a double dose of melted chocolate.

And they sell pretty amazing white chocolate cannolis, and paninis can be loaded with whatever choice of cheese and meat they have in stock behind their cold counter.

The Gist of It

Alimentari
Italian cafe, £15pp
Tel :
Tube: Queen’s Park

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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.

I didn’t manage to write a post about it, but I did wish for a permanent version. Who knew filtered coffee was so addictive, delish and education.

Of course, it took an Antipodeon influence to kickstart the London coffee renaissance, yes, I am speaking of the devilish milky sensation that is the Flat White, and now we’re all well schooled with the cuppa. The better half always rolls her eyes everytime I marvel at the Jesus pattern in my flatwhite “We had those ten years ago. Turkish flat bread hasn’t made it here yet. Nor has blueberry bagels.”.

But we do have great burritos. This side of the Atlantic. I think.

While the cafe revolution is really only just beginning, and I’m not talking coffee, I mean proper airy, anti corporate, properly indie, properly cool, totally whack with full wi-fi access and furniture that looks IKEA, aeropress and anti-cafetiere revolution, but it is here.

You may or may not know I am a Tapped and Packed fan, the space is beautiful, the ever changing artists works on the walls are always inspiring, and I am only ever so very glad to find Gwilym Davies – World Barista Champ ’09 – has expanded his previously modest coffee cart in a men’s clothes shop in Dalston Kingsland to the crack in the universe that is Leather Lane.

The new establishment is heartwrenchingly beautiful. Elegantly stripped down designs, expansive, creative, mind opening, it is anthesis to franchised coffee. Observing this shift in the industry is like watching James Bond reboot himself into a sleeker, sexier, contemporary and ultimately enjoyable version of a coffeehouse.

I don’t know that much about brew coffee, I’m still learning and appreciating the art of the medium, though I have seen the magic of siphon coffee makers, what with the science of hot steam pushing water up and down a siphon and all, and the less fancy, mechanical equivalent of the aeropress, or simply just a straight up filter. Essentially it’s different ways to force hot water through (freshly) grounded coffee beans to make a brew. I think.

Alright, alright, so shoot me, I came here to savour a flat white, milk in coffee, and didn’t ask the wonderful staff to brew me a real cup of coffee. I will be back of course, and I hope to bump into you (with your Times subscribed iPad) there, spreading yourself across a table. This will be one of the greatest coffeehouses in town. Well, at least I really want it to be.

Cue the photographs. All shot on Portra 400NC, and a single 35mm lens.

Happy Easter folks. (I checked they are open)

The Gist of It

Prufrock Coffee
Coffee, cafe… lazy, special ,£3pp.
23-25 Leather Lane EC1N 7TE
Gwilym +44 (0) 7852243470
Tube: Holborn / Chancery Lane

Reviews: The Faerietale Foodie

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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, since you know, one shouldn’t ever have too milk at 11 in the morning.

Cotechino Hash, £7.60

Which as the name suggests, involves chopped potato, arugula (which I checked on wiki that says it is rocket, so please don’t sue me for the misleading facts.), poached egg and salsa verde.

I like runny yolks, and this was pleasing. Viscous orange hued essence of chicken, smothering the hash absolutely worked its ways to my heart. The salsa was abit like a pesto, so the hash, tasted like a morning salad, of sorts. I liked it fine. I also ordered a bowl of Biroldo (£1.10) – the Italian black pudding as the lovely waitress described to us – which to my untrained palate, was like black pudding, except fluffier, and tasted like it was also laced with pesto.

Eggs Benedict, £7.30.

Ah, the acid test. The benedicts make or break brunch.

For such a big ticket encounter, I had commissioned the better half to carry out the very delicate operation of dissecting said benedict. She asked for a Royale – with smoked salmon – unsurprisingly.

The result, I am glad to annonce, was a smashing success. Especially with an side order of extra mushrooms. Really liked the dense, charred muffin, the hollandaise sauce was rich but not too thick, not sloppy and not too runny. And I think most of the water from the poached egg had been knocked out before plating up. Thick slices of smoked salmon, now appeared to be cooking under the egg was good. The better half totally approved.

Before you shoot me for my lack of taste, I just want to disclaimer you and say that I don’t know what the best brunch in London actually tastes like or actually is. What I can say however is that I had a hugely enjoyable, and relaxing time at Tiny Robot.

It’s in a nice enough neighbourhood, you can read all the weekend papers, and you can spread yourself all across a table for four, with your partner in crime. Service was smiley, careful and unintrusive. Batteries were recharged at a very effective rate, and the food was heartfully delicious. Hey it’s brunch, put away the knives and just enjoy the butter and carbs.

The bill came to £30.35, which doesn’t include the free of charge tap water, flavoured with huge thrusts of refreshing sliced cucumber in the jars.

Where was I? Oh yes, baked alaska and signature meatballs. I will be seen at Giant Robot, and watch in glee, for the waitress to set my meringue on fire, as she douses it with something a little stiff, and a little boozy.

The Gist of It

Tiny Robot
Brunch, American, £20pp
78 Westbourne Grove W2 5RT
Tel: 020 7065 6814
Tube: Notting Hill Gate

Reviews: The Scrag End ; Gourmet Chick ; The Pub Diaries ; meemalee’s Kitchen ; Eats, Drinks and Sleeps ; TimeOut London

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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 famed cheeseburgers are said to rival the In-N-Out and even the Shake shack. Purists love Yianni’s burgers, and I have no choice but to cave in and agree with the zeitgeist. It really is fast food’s finest hour.

Then again, a burger is a burger is a burger right? Afterall, a patty can only be flipped in so many ways. So sue me burgersnobs.

Joining the superburgers are the schnitzel breaded, tender, juicy and fleshy chicken fillet burgers, chilli cheese smothered hotdogs, Philly cheesesteaks, faux-buffalo wings, gigantic onion rings and McD’s style soggy fries and bad bad ‘slaw. Everything oozes first rate fast food appeal, redolent of the first time you ate at McDonalds, though everything else pales in comparison to the beef burgers (plain, cheese, bacon cheese, chilli cheese and the dead hippie).

I think the real winner with #MEATEASY in particular, is the rocking ambiance. And probably the people who go there. Equal measures of travelling burger lovers, trend chasers, people just looking for cool place to hang out. Everybody has an iPhone and checks their FB account while their partners order food when their number is up.

#MEATEASY is only trading under next Saturday, that’s 16th April 2011, because that is when Capital Pubs will resuscitate their refurbishment plans to remake the currently closed Goldsmith Tavern to the New Cross House.

I am not entirely sure what Mr Collins plans to do with the new pub, but whatever it is, I am certain he won’t be pulling in the crowds like Yianni is doing right now. My 2nd visit was at 5.45pm on Saturday, and we were number 44; the doors had barely been open for 15 minutes, and already there was a queue!

This is pure speculation of course, but this make-shift business must have been raking it in, enough for a new burgervan, or two, or three?

The thought must have crossed Yianni’s – and potential investors’ – mind to create a permanent spin-off as a result of this project. If Spuntino is anything to go by, I think a relocated #MEATEASY will continue to be a hit. Afterall, Yianni already owns a burger recipe ( and a customised and ideal burger bun ) that is the envy of the industry. Whether or not stakeholders can come to an agreement, or if what I am suggesting is unadulterated blasphemy to Yianni is another issue. But we live in hope.

For now, the speakeasy-esque diner/bar, serving great grilled fast food, is very attractive. This is something we can keep going back to. It may yet be the best thing to come from the entire internet fueled, pop-up generation of eateries.

Anyway, if you haven’t already, I do highly recommend you try and get to New Cross Gate before 5.45pm, any day from Tuesday to Saturday, if you don’t fancy queuing up or risk not being able to grab a table, or missing the last train back to whence you came. Have £40 on your persons, a small tupperware box, order one cheeseburger, one dead hippie, one chicken burger, one Philly cheesteak, and stuff whatever you can’t finish in the plastic box for lunch the day after. I promise it’ll be a night to remember.

The Gist of It

#MEATEASY by The Meat Wagon
Ticketed, Cash Only, Burgers & Cocktails. £15pp
First Floor, Goldsmiths Tavern
316 New Cross Rd SE14 6AF
Tel: 07796 304024
Overground: New Cross Gate

Even more photos on my flickr page.

TimeOut London ; London Stuff ; Campari & Soda ; The Happiness Project London ; thebountifulplate ; No Reservations ; An American in London ; thecriticalcouple

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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 stool, affectionately termed the kissing stool, where the better half and I were lucky enough to nab during this visit. Incidentally, this was their very first Saturday service, so it was little surprise to see Russell on the floor making sure things were running as smoothly as possible. Folksy tunes in the background, I recognised the Bob Dylans, beyond that, I was just so absorbed with the first rate waitering, the high ceilings, the cream walls, the bricks, the funky hanging filament bulbs, to pick up much else.

If you thought Polpo was simple, there is even less fuss about Spuntino. Essentially this is a caffe, with a bar, serves snacks (hence Spuntino) and so it’s logical for them to be open all day from elevenses till late, take no bookings, doesn’t even list an on-site phone number but welcomes everybody with very modern and very laid-back embrace.

Egg & Soldiers, £3.50.

Soft boiled, and encrusted in a deep-fried sesame armour with greased soldiers, was a sign of the fun times to come. Was it American, Italian, British or something entirely new? Who cares, it’s food, it’s good and we want more.

Truffle Egg Toast, £5.50.

And more we got. Melting fontina cheese, a custard cream yolk centre, very thick, very crusty white bread, truffle oil, such simple pleasures combined to produce an utterly sinful, sinful (sinful) attack on the palate. It didn’t look like much, but this was so bloody damn good, that I think it should be hailed as the open sandwich that toppled the croque monsieur as the gentlemen’s sandwich (of choice) for the 21st century. Heavy truffle flavours fighting against a sharp cheese on a sturdy bed of toasted white bread. Did I say this was bloody damn brilliant ?

Calamari, chickpeas, ink, £7.00.

As soon as this landed, I shouted “Polpo!” and was glad to enjoy this hearty, well seasoned comfort dish with the better half, who has (amazingly) never been to Polpo or Polpetto, but who was (extremely) impressed with this dish.

Baby gem, soft egg, creamed cod dressing, £6.00.

More soft boiled egg, on a bed of a gem of a lettuce salad with oversized croutons, simple, homely and lovely.

Slider with ground beef and bone marrow, £4.50 and shoestring fries, £3.00.

Shaved potatoes for shoestring fries were greasy and addictive. Up till now, greasy, creamy, deep-fried, sinful and eggy appeared to be the theme running throughout the recipes. I really liked the interpretation of the original 5 cent burger (You might recall I hated Byron’s early sliders years ago) mainly because the patty was very good. Ironically the patty was rather large considering it was a mini burger, almost like deliberately oversized meatball in fact. Onion and pickles over toasted brioche, with a juicy pink centre, and melted cheese dripping all over it. Eating this in one go, reminded me of a diner scene in Archie comics. I could feel myself morphing into Jughead, savouring these sliders with approving nods and wishing my stomach were as bottomless as his, just so I could have two more.

Spicy sausage, lentil & radicchio, £7.00.

This is the only dish I didn’t like. It was fine, sausage with lentils, and a mild spiciness to it, with lovely Italian chicory in the mix, but it paled in comparison to the rest of the food.

Peanut butter and Jelly Sandwich, £6.50.

To finish, the classic PB&J, rejigged into a kind of peanut butter flavoured iced nougat sandwiching rich, red fruit jam with sprinklings of peanuts and demerara sugar (I think).

It was a stroke of pure genius, undulated fun and I think Spuntino represents the moment in which this series of restaurants achieved a rarified air of pellucid magic. Perhaps this is the reason why we, Londoners have been so infatuated with Russell Norman’s restaurants in the last couple of years.

We paid £54.34, including service, a glass of white and half a pint of Meantime. As expected, the restaurant is fabulous value for money. I stupidly asked for a latte, but they only serve filtered coffee, poured into enamel tin soldier mugs, like those seen in war movies, from bulb shaped glass jugs, complete with rising steam. Ahhh. ‘Twas a great ending to a fabulous Saturday lunch.

I think Spuntino is awesome, a very welcomed cafe/diner/bar/restaurant/watering hole to Soho. I think there is something quite special about this particular branch, I will definitely be back, and I think you would enjoy it as well, when you eventually visit. The place smells great, of popcorn, coffee, honey, dust, oil and hot burgers; it is impossible for patrons not to enjoy it, with all this flavour swirling around in the air.

On my way out, I told Russell how much we enjoyed the meal, and I told him I liked Spuntino the best, that he was onto something special with this one. Unsurprisingly he told me many had already indicated it to him. He also said that this was a labour of love for him.

The food is pure fantasy, not in the it’s going to win a star way, but (thankfully) in the fuck it’s just so darn delicious, I could eat this over and over again, kind of way. I don’t know whether to think that it leans toward being American or Italian or British or otherwise, but I think it is very London, very Soho, and perhaps that’s what makes it so special, in that it belongs and was born right here in London. I believe Norman’s eateries are helping to redefine the contemporary idea of eating out. If the Ivys, Sheekeys and the Scotts were 20th century, Nina Simone chic, then perhaps Spuntino is the 21st century, Corinne Bailey Rae reboot. Sleeker, sexier, leaner, but still ever elegant, soaking in sacks of culture and ever so delicious.

The Gist of It

Spuntino
American, £25pp
61 Rupert Street W1D 7PW
No phones, no reservations.
Tube: Piccadilly Circus

More photos on my flickr page.

Spunky: TimeOut London ; Food Stories ; Cheese and Biscuits ; Eat like a girl ; The Arbuturian; Campari and Soda

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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 to be overwhelmed with the sheer diversity of his recipes. For example : Three styles of New Zealand Kaipara Harbour oysters; miso gazpacho, wasabi cucumber & sake broth; Smoked magret duck breast, goats curd, beetroot confit & pickled pineapple ; Red lentil, beetroot & pomegranate molasses soup with crème frâiche & Manouri cheese wonton. It’s as though he took all his recipe books, curated from the years of travelling around Asia, tore out pages randomly, reshuffled and recompiled into the master Kopapa book of recipe book. A melange of a food menu.

Anyway, we decided to mix and match with this meal, starting with a flurry of tapas as follows…

Grilled Pita with babaganoush & olives, £3.00.

The bread was excellent. Served piping hot, it tasted of hot cast iron, with a punchy, citrusy hummus.

Coconut sticky pork ribs, £6.20.

These were deceptively similar to Chinese BBQ pork ribs. Honey-sweet sauce, runny, juicy and messy. Yeah it was alright.

Parmesan & bone marrow sauce on toast with chrain, £5.20.

This dish reminded me of parmesan and mushroom toast at The Tapa Room, part of his breakfast menu over there. But this was better. The parmesan and bone marrow blended really well together in this sort of rough chopped paste, like it had been massaged under pestel & mortar. It took a sharp and smokey flavour. Salty too, and appetising. Horseradish and chopped beetroot took some of the edge off. I really liked this. I could easily see myself stumbling into Kopapa at 3pm just to have this with a cup of coffee. Digging through the memory banks, I am certain that this errant mention of horseradish was also part of the smell. Hot, cheesy, horseradishy smell. Mmm. Yes I could easily have one of these right now.

A poached egg on Stornoway black pudding with salsa verde, £5.60.

Unfortunately, this paled in comparison to the masterful ‘bloodcake with duck egg’ at St John Bread & Wine. Where the latter is this densely, packed, mushy, full flavoured sexual onslaught on your palatte; the Kopapa version is dry, shy, nerdy and largely uninteresting, in comparison. Poking into the poached egg did not reveal a runny smothery centre. It was half cooked. So on balance it was distinctly average.

Up to this point, we were really enjoying the meal. Tapas were largely and expectedly good. And so we were looking forward to the main part of the meal with great expectations.

The mains.

Unfortunately, we were quite bitterly disappointed. It was as if someone had switched off the lights in the kitchen whilst the chef prepped the mains. Both dishes sounded great on paper, but it was short on delivery. Fusion gone awry we thought.

Kopapa’s hot-smoked salmon on quinoa, avocado & crispy buckwheat salad with passionfruit dressing, £8.30.

We expected hot-smoked salmon to be some kind of wackily delicious to cook salmon. Little did we know that hot-smoked salmon tasted just like smoked salmon, except with the texture of cooked fish. It was abit like chewing on plastic, and a little like having canned salmon with quinoa. I don’t know. Call me a cynic, and I hope this doesn’t come across as being rude; but I found very little differences between this and say canned salmon on quinoa with fresh scoops of avocado, which anyone could easily whip up in their free time. I know, it’s not quite the same, but I failed to see the validity of this recipe.

Pan-fried glazed smoked Dutch eel on ratte potatoes & mizuna with a soft-boiled egg & miso mustard dressing, £8.00.

Same difference with the smoked eel really. I thought the smoked eel just clashed with the potatoes, the egg and miso dressing was just plain weird. On a bed of mizuna – aka like rocket leaves – it gave way to this papery mouth feel. It was grotesque.

I think the experience with the innovation of fusion food, was a case of Russian roulette, when I did get lucky, it was great. £40.50 for two, was exceptional value for money.

I’m not going to moan about the decor, it was effective, in that it was adequate for an all day cafe. While it didn’t quite have the slickness of say Dishoom (another all day diner in Covent Garden) nearby, it didn’t bother us. I think the point of Kopapa is that it does not intimidate, it’s a place where you can really just be yourself.

I am thorougly convinced Kopapa is a great cafe, but I think it fails on many counts as a restaurant. I thought the mains were lazy, almost as if they were aspiring toward a healthy fast food franchise, as opposed to something with a more unique outlook, in terms of USP. Please don’t take this as a terribly negative review. I think if you do end up in Kopapa, you’ll largely enjoy it. However, I feel that you’ll have to be quite careful with picking dishes, whilst they are elaborate in description, the end result might not match expectations. How to sift out the bummers from the winners you might ask? Dunno. Go for the elegant ones? Read other reviews I suppose. In the end, I don’t think this is the alternative Providores in the city. It does not carry the same glamour, but perhaps that was never the point. This is the pragmatic, do-it-all, cousin in the heart of London, and you’re likely to like recharging the batteries in here.

The Gist of It

Kopapa
NZ Fusion, £25pp
32-34 Monmouth Street
Seven Dials WC2H 9HA
tel +44 (0) 20 7240 6076
Tube: Covent Garden

Fused with the internet: London Stuff ; The Catty Life ; Greedy Diva ; Life outside the viewfinder ; AAiL ; Gourmet Chick ; C&B ; The Skinny Bib ; Guy.

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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 Dimond) say that Dishoom has got the decor and design down to the letter.

Irani cafes are now dwindling in their numbers in India. They were the stuff of egalitarian dreams in the sixties, but today they are a breed of eatery that is slowly being superseeded by contemporary establishments. Though their story of inception is a rather fascinating one, so goes the story of rags to riches. 19th century Zoroastrian Iranians migrated (source : Wiki where else) to then Mumbai (where a Zoroastrian community was gathering) in search of work. Irani cafes were one the result of those travellers’ stab at thriving in early 20th century Mumbai. They also brought with them Irani chai; milk tea supercharged with condensed milk.

I think Dishoom’s galore should start with the marvelous decor.

I especially loved the tall ceilings with well arranged dangly wires, hanging lamps and ceiling fans. The kitchen is fully exposed on one side, emanating the usual greenish kitchen glow, and the rest of the dining room feels big, polished, reflecting and marbly.

A tip of the hat to the interior designers whoever they may be. They have crafted a brilliant space, with the potential to tickle clientele, it is extremely comfortable sitting there, and would give a lot of Grand Cafe-types a run for its money.

I took the day off last Wednesday, and so it was one of the rare weekday mornings that I was free. So I decided to try Brunch at the all day menu at Dishoom, fully intending to snuggle into my seat for a couple of hours, and take the time to enjoy my new Garry Winogrand book.

Right then on to the food.

I ordered the spicy lamb chops (£9.20) , their signature black dhaal (£4.50) and Roomali Roti (£1.70). And drank freshly squeezed OJ (£2.90).

The lambchops were really great. The spiciness has been turned down a little, pomegranate seeds were a nice ornamental touch. The meat was charry and juicy, rich, vibrant flavours, and it paired well with the stretchy roti. I thought it could have done with just a tad more rubbing with oil, but otherwise it was deliciously floury, the bread did supremely well to absorb juices. I liked the dhaal, it wasn’t a skimpy watered down gravy, it was properly smothery and chock full of healthy lentils. Also on the mild side.

It’s not really a cafe, as they were rather quick to shoosh me out the door – albeit ever so delicately and with a smile – even when I had plonked my large A3 sized Winogrand on the marbled top. I was very comfortable in my seat, already slid back into it, feet almost very nearly up and stupidly refused a coffee, since I hadn’t yet finished the OJ, and I was still waiting for my Passionfruit and Ginger Gola Ice to melt. Moments later he put the bill on my table.

“Whenever you are ready.” Hmm, but clearly I wasn’t dude. Can you not see my unfinished dessert and drink, and my body language suggesting I love sitting in that seat so much, I wish to be glued there, at least for another 30 minutes? Check back skills fail. Leading me to conclude that perhaps it was clearly a misreading on my part; Dishoom was in fact an all day diner, and not a cafe. Table turning over Wednesday lunch hour was apparently important to their livelihood. I wasn’t too happy about being gently kicked out of the restaurant, especially one which I enjoyed.

Aside from the apparent faux pas, however, service was mostly lovely, frequency of incessant check backs was a little high, forcing me to engage several bouts of smile-chewing. Not cheap for Indian food, but considering it was Covent Garden, as well as the swish interior, the £20.70 (exclusive of service) bill for the solo brunch, seemed fair. Yes, in case you wondered, I put down a 10% tip.

I think Dishoom largely deserves the great exposure it has received so far. It is a great addition to Covent Garden, and it is an alternative to all the excellent egalitarian options in the general area. I wouldn’t hesitate taking big groups to the restaurant, food was adequately tasty, but ultimately, it was the decor that won me over.

The Gist.

Dishoom
Bombay Cafe £25pp
12 Upper St Martins Lane WC2H 9FB
Tel: 020 7420 9320
Tube: Covent Garden and Leicester Square

Kablewy! : Time Out London ; Hardens ; The Skinny Bib ; £31.75 ; R.W. ; Gourmet Chick ; Mr Foodie ; Kavey Eats ; Hungry in London

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