Rob & David’s eponymous restaurant has only just toasted its ten year anniversary. A decade and a bit, largely recognised as one of a handful of institutions of Iberian cooking in the business. Not forgetting the Eyre Brother’s first effort, The Eagle, which has already entered the annals of culinary legend. It predates the rise of the Brindisas and – in certain respects – is seen to have nurtured its growth. After all, Jose Pizarro did spend his first years in London with this fine establishment. The restaurant celebrates cooking from the Iberian peninsula, with the roots established in Portuguese cooking. Perhaps due in no small part to David’s upbringing in Mozambique, a former Portuguese colony.

Today, there are many luminous representatives of Iberian cooking in the city, dare I say, that Spanish cooking has hit a high level of consistency. Whatever formula that may be applied to running successful Spanish restaurants which appeal to Londoners, has been perfected. Copita, Salt Yard, Jose/Pizarro and even the post-Pizarro Brindisas just to name a few of the current crop of small plate leaders all produce lovely food. Progress is inevitable, but I believe there’s always a sense of romance when visiting restaurants with a bit of history.

The Alpine cabin ambiance does remind me a little of Pizarro – Slick yet down to earth, with a long bar which entertains a more familiar menu of tapas. One which is adamantly self-proclaimed to be set apart from the ‘ersatz’ competition for its ‘gutsy flavours’. Croquetas, gambas, prego and tinned sardines. Here, tapas certainly do read more like bar snacks than full meals.

At the dinner table, the civilised ALC is laid out as three course meals. Starters include Spatchcocked quail cooked in sherry vinegar; Pressed Madeira and Porto-marinated foie gras. For mains Portuguese baked spiced rice with duck, chourico and smoked touchino; Globe artichoke with sauteed wild garlic, swiss chard and peas on a spinach pancake; Grilled Mozambique tiger prawns piri-piri, pilaf rice, cucumber, coriander and sherry vinegar.

Anchovies, pimientos, olives, capers toast and a soft boiled egg, £7.00.

I started with something easy, opting for what essentially is anchovies on a bit of toast. The anchovies were certainly gutsy. So salty I washed down each bite with half a glass of tap water. I have to confess, the dish is a little boring, one could say it feels home-made, but with so many preserved ingredients on the same plate, I was yearning for something warm and freshly cooked (like clams).

Grilled fillet of acorn-fed Iberico Pig, marinated with smoked paprika, thyme and garlic. Patatas probres – Oven potatoes with green peppers, onions, garlic and white wine, £21.00.

This sort of pink pork was novel and bold at one time, but now its nearly commonplace. A regular fixture at Parle’s Dock Kitchen, and unsurprisingly, there’s a cut down version of simply grilled ruby red dollops of iberico fillet at Jose’s sherry bar.

I could be wrong, but this particular dish – in essence a David Eyre signature – may have kicked it all off. The pork had a wonderful fragrance about it, it certainly is not innocent like the rest of its non-acorn fed brethren, and ultimately its accompanying flavour profile is much more intense.

After all, these are cut from the prized pigs with body fat that ooze like the most complex of olive oils. Sizzling, hearty and rustic. With a buttery tenderness that melts on the fork. I noted the lovely colours of the potatoes and the juices it were bathed in. A creamy beige akin to a flowing wedding dress. Like a blushing black pig wrapped in satin. The residual heat of the potatoes were fabulous. Heavily seasoned and I hazard a guess, that it is only made more complex by absorbing some of the lovely juices from the pork. A wonder to eat.

It’s terribly elegant, classic and a sterling example of meat and potatoes. There were so many flavours swirling around the plate, but perhaps just one too many. My palate was slowly overcome with spiciness, which eventually drowned out the natural flavour of the pork. Only just approaching the wrong of queasy as I finished the plate.

Perhaps I have grown accustomed with Jose’s version served simply with a few sprinkles of paprika, and much more daringly rare than this. Then there is Nuno Mendes’ addictive version served with a savoury Portuguese bread pudding. Both in my opinion do a better job of reigning in just enough to highlight the natural awesomeness of iberico pork. I think David’s signature dish is almost too rich, by comparison.

Burnt cooked cream, £6.00

To finish, a classic cooked cream fit for St Joseph’s day! Smooth cold vanilla custard encased in a caramelised sugary roof.

I paid £45 for food and a glass of Graciano. Eyre Brothers is a certainly a solid restaurant, food is mostly good, if a touch rich, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, for those of you who still enjoy a kip after a big meal. There is an unshakable sense of nostalgia, or more accurately, a sense that I have visited a precursor to the current state of affairs. I feel that its younger counterparts have eclipsed its classic offerings with lighter and more playful interpretations of Iberian cooking. However, it doesn’t change the fact it is still a classic.

The Gist of It

Eyre Brothers
Iberian £50pp.
70 Leonard St. EC2A 4QX
Tel : 02076135346
Tube : Old Street

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The restaurant took a while to finish – it’s at least a month late, and the private rooms are still awaiting the finishing details – but it finally opened, and my my, is it going to be a smashing success in 2012.

It seems to be fashionable these days for Spanish restaurant owners to pair larger scale restaurants for the full experience with a more modest – or shall we say more fun – sherry bar for the easy tapas and alhambras. If you cast your mind back to the boozy summer of sherry and half cooked pork, you’ll remember that José really was just the prologue to something much bigger to come.

And it is much, much bigger. If José was a cute baby taking his first steps into the dangerous world of hospitality, then Pizarro is all grown up 28 year old voluptuous Paz Vega all lips, puppy dog eyes and husky voice (Oh Paz Vega, wouldn’t that be a christmas to remember). Alright to be fair then, how about a 35 year old Antonio Banderas with his piercing stare, a Spanish guitar with brand new nylon strings and cat whiskers.

For background noise, the front of house chose Nina Simone tracks from (I’d like to think it was) her 1958 album titled ‘Little Girl Blue’. The ambiance is ever as elegant and smoky as Miss Simone was.

The decor is wood panel, brick and marble tops like José, except it goes deeper. A long communal table out front, and large round family tables at the back. It has low ceilings, and it feels a little like an Alpine cottage held up by Turkish stone pillars. The kitchen is open, and like José, diners can sit at the bar and watch Chef Pizarro work his magic. Pizarro’s design is more like a kitchen in a large villa than a London restaurant.

We visited at 3pm on a Saturday, and luckily for us, many of you were jammed into the teeny José sherry bar (my guess is to try it for the first time) and there were a few free spaces available. We rushed to the restaurant hoping to catch the kitchen’s last service, but then we realised that they open all day from 12pm to 11pm on Saturdays. José was behind the counter for service, I felt thankful – at last for Christmas, I will have a special meal cooked for me by a special chef.

Like José, this menu is seasonal and straightforward. There are two price ranges, the first 8 or 10 dishes are £6 to £7 and are classic tapas like Croquetas; Artichoke, cauliflower, soft cheese, walnut; Duck liver, capers, fino; Quail, romesco (Yes, I remember the awesome romesco from my visit to José ). Larger dishes are £12 to £15 such as Salted cod, potatoes, vizcaina; Lamb, lentils, radicchio. Naturally, jamon iberico is served here as well. They are supplied by Manuel Maldonado and if my guesses are correct, the legs of black pigs that once roamed the fields of Extramadura, incidentally, Chef Pizarro’s birthplace. Maldonado’s jamon are also sold in Selfridges, and so if you’re like me, you’ll know they are red gold basting in naturally secreted and fragrantly acorn scented pig-body oil. The only gripe when I walked past the kitchen, is that I saw that these expensive exposed half-shaven meat on the leg were not covered with the layer of fat and skin to keep it moist. I surmise that when they serve it, they cut away the dried bits from the top before serving the rest.

Let’s cut to the chase, small dishes..

Jerusalem artichoke soup, truffle oil, crispy ham or manchego, £5.5.

I chose crispy ham. Look at that, isn’t that just the most innocent dish you’ve ever seen. The soup smelled absolutely fantastic, obviously due to the fragrant truffle oil. Texture-wise, it was thick and gloppy, a little like congee, but with bags of natural umami flavours. Got to say, the crispy ham is a stroke of genius giving bite and seasoning to the rounded rooty flavours. It was a great wintry dish, so rich, so hearty, so warming.

Prawns, serrano ham, chilli, garlic, £7.5.

Oh my goodness, these were the sweetest little critters I’d ever tasted in London. It was so sweet, it may as well have just jumped off the boat. As I twisted the head off, red juices came rushing out – as carnivorous as it sounds – I sucked the prawn head dry, and I savoured every moment of it. Prawns this fresh would make any Chinese person want to either drown it in brandy or steam it (or both) because you really need not do much save to not overcook it to preserve all of its natural sweetness. Yummy.

Half-way through our meal, Chef JP came over to greet us, I had to ask where he got his wonderful seafood from. He said “In my 20 odd years of cooking, I’ve only trusted one fishmonger, and he is based in New Covent Garden. If he brings me hake, I’ll cook it, if he brings me red mullet I’ll cook it.”. I believe this mystical fishmonger is Murray’s.

Beetroot cured salmon, capers, egg yolk, £7.5.

I suppose this is home-cured salmon, and the fluorescent orange yolk is not that of duck or an irradiated chicken, but that of corn-fed chicken. It had to be superfresh to be eaten raw, and 24 hours after the meal, my tummy is not bubbly, which suggest it is indeed very fresh eggs.

In essence, this is salmon tartare. The addition of capers made sure of that. What can I say? It was brilliant, it was more than brilliant, the salmon tasted so bouncy, so fresh and so alive. It was so sweet, so juicy and so mellow. It was like the best sashimi I’d ever had, paired with the richest egg yolks I’d ever had. We asked for more bread to mop up the yolk. This dish embodied the entire simplicity philosophy Chef Pizarro was working toward. When you buy the absolute best ingredients you can get your hands on, and cook it well (or prep it well in this case), the result is returning customers and restaurant patrons. This is the kind of dish which will keep them permanently hooked.

The large plates.

Manchego canelones, silver chard, pine nuts, £12.

Canelones as in Cannelloni, rolled and stuffed pasta. I suppose this would be the Iberian version, and while my photograph may not show it above, it is served in a large cazuelas, probably 6in in diameter. Again, beautiful homely cooking here, great roasted flavours, fantastically rich melted manchego and great chopped silver chard. Can’t remember if there was bechamel inside. I think there was, but no tomatoes, it was all green inside. For £12, nice.

Hake, black cabbage, clams, £15.

The hake at José was basically fried and loaded with aioli, nice but too simple. This one on the other hand, was rustic and nostalgic. Clams and potatoes made for a broth that was soothing, therapeutic, gosh I could just imagine as this rolled out of the oven – it smelled gorgeous. The fish was top class obviously, simply pan-fried and still flaky inside. We asked for yet more bread to ensure we wiped all the juices off the terracotta. Marvellous cooking.

Chocolate, toast, caramel ice cream, £6.

We ended the meal with a whipped and sticky dollop of chocolate (richer than a mousse) served on a thin toast and a fabulous caramel ice cream, and washed it all down with a smooth and sweet oloroso. I guess there was a little salt sprinkled over it and it summed up the natural wholesome goodiness that is José Pizarro’s cooking.

We paid £59.50 for the food and this time, I put down 10% service charge, £6. Well – it was a faultless meal. We loved everything which was put in front of us. It was also fab value for money, and the restaurant had a magical ambiance.

As you know, I love Cambio de Tercio, and earlier last month I visited Capote y Toros and asked Abel (Lusa who owns CdT) if he had visited José’s new place yet. This time around, I asked José if he knew Abel, and obviously he did, and he said many, many years ago when he first came to Britain, he had asked for a job with Abel – someone who he still respects he says. Abel is still going with CdT and eventually expanded with 3 more tapas bars to CdT. José went on to oversee the genesis of perhaps the greatest tapas restaurants to grace London – the Brindisas. But it is only now that José has reached what I believe is the height of his career with José and Pizarro.

The missus loves José, I think Cambio de Tercio still holds much sentimental value for me (given the amount of money I’ve spent there over the years). Of course, Alberto Criado’s modern style couldn’t be more of a contrast to José’s more rustic cooking. Both are ace chefs obviously and I think it’s great that London have both men choosing to cook in our beloved city. At the end of the day, I do think Pizarro will become a future classic. I’m sure there are millions of Brindisa lovers out there, I believe they will appreciate Pizarro’s latest work.

Bermondsey Street is blessed to have such fabulous restaurants in the neighbourhood. Along with Zucca, the sleuth of good looking coffee shops, it’s possibly the best area to hang out on weekends. I wonder what house prices are like in the area, these days.

The greatest strength of Pizarro is the quality of ingredients. Google the blogs, and take a look at the food which comes out – everything looks so vibrant and fresh that it can only be delicious. The seasonal simplicity is like being invited to a close friend’s house with her mother doing all the cooking. The nostalgia makes Pizarro the perfect weekend restaurant.

One might argue that top quality produce needn’t much cooking, but I think you still need a deft hand to bring out the natural shades of flavour correctly. Of course, we already know that Pizarro is an accomplished chef, everything comes out perfectly seasoned, piping hot and just excellent. This is only the second week of service, and if I can level some criticism, is that the communication between staff isn’t that smooth as yet. We had to keep reminding the waiters to bring the bread, which they frequently forgot, and timings are a little erratic between plates. These are probably just growing pains which they will work out the system once they oil all the cogs. Otherwise, the waiters had the right attitude, they were friendly and accommodating.

It’s easy ambiance, it’s just so comfortable being in here. It is evident José wants his customers to feel at home here. They’ve got a rack of magazines and daily papers and a copy of his book Seasonal Spanish Food. I love Prufrock, but I might have to spend a couple of boozy Friday afternoons reading a signed copy of his book (which I should return to buy) and tucking away his rice pudding. The bar is open all day, everyday I believe.

I shook his hand and thanked José after the meal. I told him Pizarro is going to be a hit. His grandfather would certainly have been so proud of this restaurant named in his memory. It was nearly 4.30pm, the kitchen was still cooking, there was no letting up really, people continued to stream into the restaurant. The man was visibly tired after a long day (not to mention the long night ahead) , but you could see that he was proud of his little labour of love. After all, it was beginning to take on the same enthusiastic soul as its creator.

Well done to the man from Extremadura.

The Gist of It

Pizarro
Spanish. £40pp
194 Bermondsey Street, London, SE1 3TQ
Tel : 020 7378 9455
Tube: London Bridge

Sharing : The Picky Glutton ; Butter is Better ; Rocket and Squash ; London Tastin’ ; Chopstix 2 Steaknives ; London Unattached ; Kavey Eats ; Tehbus

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I told you Barrica was good. Not all of us agreed two years ago, but we probably do now. After all, they’ve impressed enough of us to have a crack at a second child: Soho newest sensation called Copita, for sherry glass. I’m sure I recognised a couple of ex-Barrica staff who now work at Copita.

Looking back, it may have been because Barrica was yet another conventional tapas bar in face of the stiff competition. The Brindisas for example, the mighty Dehesa group, the supremely hot Barrafina, and that’s just along the spine of Shaftesbury Avenue. 2009 feels like such a long time ago. In the future (2011) , populist plate sharing still prevails, but we have matured past reserving tables or eat sitting down, we’ve put Sherry on the tube map, and small plates are no longer limited to Iberian classics.

How does the rest of the world think of the way we Londoners like to eat out, I wonder. We seem to enjoy the shift toward establishments that merge drinking and nibbling, we don’t mind queuing up, or even notice that new restaurants are cramming the same covers onto shrinking floorspace. Just when you thought the proverbial towel of shared plates has been well and truly wrung of juicy ideas, comes a new tapas bar with enough upgrades to set itself apart from the competition.

But first, let’s talk about the setting: cellar-like, almost dingy (without spiderwebs), there are no tables, but rather rows of table tops supported on ceramic tiled pillars with bar high stools. The reconstructed dilapidation is part of a recurring theme that has taken over this part of town. We, the restaurant goer love it, but there might also be widespread admiration amongst restauranteurs for Russ Norman’s vision of the ultimate Soho diner. These days you can almost count on new restaurants to be reservation-free with food that doesn’t mind looking tussled and just-whipped-up.

Bread with picos biscuits; squab pigeon, pear and chocolate; ajo blanco with beetroot; baked fig with goat’s curd ice cream and cod throat, clams and parsley. The menu is rotated daily, everything reads simply, but with a twist: date, pigeon and beetroot on a tapas menu – that is news to me. Therein lies the refreshing game changer, and here’s a disclaimer before we dive in to the dishes : Whatever you see here, zoom out by 200%. The dishes are sized for baby owls, seriously tiny, smaller than a bamboo steamer of shui mai, though prices are also appreciatively scaled down to match, starting from £3 and up to £8.

I sampled a range, in order of escalating prices.

Pea, fresh cheese and truffle oil croquets, £2.95.

Yes, I know what you’re thinking – this is nothing more than mushy peas, deep-fried with balls of cheese (which taste deceptively like a mozzarella). It was, but it was also bloody fantastic – such simplicity, utter genius. I didn’t think croquetas would ever evolve past bechamel and ham, but here, we may be witnessing the birth of the next deep-fried ball of sensation. Let’s all put the scotch eggs to one side, and start giving these baddies a chance instead.

Duck egg yolk with piquillo and hazelnut, £4.95.

..and I believe with a good lashing of orange juice! The fruity exuberance was wildly fascinating – was this Iberian I wondered, or was it much more than that. Where Jose Pizzaro would think a simple pan-fried duck egg, with a yolk still raw and runny would suffice, Copita takes this several steps further by slow-cooking the yolk to the consistency of a baked custard, a well curdled goat’s cheese, clotted cream that has set in a cold box. Garnished with crushed hazelnut and a bunch of other fresh and choppable things, piquillo pepper butterflied like a bedsheet and showered with presumably olive oil (and a fruit juice such as orange) – it was edible sex. What a refreshing dish this was. Talk about flexing those culinary muscles. This will definitely intrigue neighbouring tapas bar owners and could well go down as one of the best dishes ever created this year (in London).

Cod throat, clams and parsley, £6.95.

The experience of eating arguably the best tapas dish I had this year, was quickly superseded by the best tapas I had this year. The texture of the cod throat meat was fabulous, an oily muscle, almost gelatinous, like eating fish belly or fish eyeballs , or fish head meat, that came with rich palate arresting flavours of oil, garlic and unctuous fish fat (if there is such a thing). Throat was like cheek, except tenderer with much amped flavours of cod – as if it had been soaking in its own liver oil and had spent the night laying with a garoupa in the fridge. I also believe the dish came with a good dollop of puréed garlic too, but I couldn’t tell. The resultant textures were so babyfood-like that each spoonful was knockout punch after knockout punch. Kapow.

Where the conventional tapas bar would have simply steamed clams and shrouded their nakedness with olive oil, Copita had taken it upon themselves to reinvent a classic bar snack into something worthy of record in the annals of culinary history. Cod throat rocks. I never want to go back to the fillet.

Iberico pork ribs, grelot and date sauce, £7.95.

And just when I thought they couldn’t top the cod throat, they surprise with this dastardly amazing homage to pit smoked ribs. Spanish style. You know the Spaniards had a hand in shaping pork smoking, look it up, American BBQ spoke latino at some point in its history. Meaty, gelatinious, muscles slowly pounded by smoke to a fall-off-the-bone consistency. And what in the hell is grelot? Who knows, whatever it was, it works, it has the x-factor. Date was less overbearing than honey, it resulted in a mellow, brown sugar roundness to the sweet bbq flavours, as opposed to a refined taste of monochromatic white sugar. These were a thinking man’s ribs. Bodeans nearby – be very afraid. Jamie and Adam… this is what good ribs taste like. Somebody pin a blue ribbon to this dish. The best pork ribs, I had had in London this year.

Custart tart, £2.50.

Or a slightly posher version of Nata from Nandos. Actually scratch that, no posher than Nandos, this is down and dirty stuff, like Nandos’ its kept on the bar as you enter. But it was definitely good Iberian custard, probably better than having to brave the danger of heading down to Casa Madeira in Vauxhall.

I’m really not a Sherry guy, too papery for me, but I get it, and recommendations to pairing sherry to the food is commendable. Not quite the flight of sherry you would get at Capote y Toros. So I settled with a tall Alhambra. £34.03 poorer, it wasn’t cheap, but I felt enlightened.

How many bread baskets do you know come with doggy style biscuits? Not many. And how many non-complimentary ones only cost a quid. Not many either. Fans of Jose (and probably Mr Pizzaro himself) really need to take a good long look at Copita. This tapas bar is next generation stuff, the flair in the cooking is superb – various sources suggest that the man with the plan is E.Chef James Knight. Well, whoever is behind the recipes, I tip my hat and applaud you – the cooking has verve and soul, the cooking is genial and poetic, the cooking is a reimagination of the small wonder of sampler portioned dishes. This is unadulterated pleasure for those who spend too much time paying for hospitality. Most of all however, the food is genuinely delicious.

And just like that, the world has changed once again.

The Deets.

Copita
Faster than you can say tapas. £33pp.
26-27 D’arblay Street W1F 8E
Tel: 0207 287 7797
Tube: Oxford Circus

Lick your plates : Guy Dimond , Skinny

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Pizzaro. One of a select group of individuals who masterminded the transformation of the Spanish perishable importer into a synonym for the British definition of a Tapas restaurant. He is a huge reason why we are so comfortable with the idea of sharing small plates of food, and thanks to the sheer dependability of the Brindisa restaurants he helped create over the last few years, his efforts has shaped this category of London restaurants.

Yes, it is about the right time for José Pizzaro to his name on the signage and he has decided to do so by splitting it into two discreet projects. The latter is slated for a late October debut, a more civil sit-down affair that will formally bear his last name, Pizzaro. Until the real party arrives however, we have to make do with a sneak preview of his cooking with this teeny tapas bar situated in the heart of Bermondsey street, casually known as ‘José’.

The space is seriously tiny, it’s like a food truck, except you eat with the chef inside the claustrophobic environs. It’s got bags of ambiance, and it is hugely popular at the moment. The lack of floor space (and chairs) is perhaps accidentally on purpose, it fills up by 6pm (on Friday nights, and every other balmy night, I imagine) and perhaps also accidentally on purpose, the casual exclusivity of this place is what has made it so damn popular.

José is not a restaurant, as you will have read from the overloaded internet press, this is a bar which incidentally serves quality tapas, and since there are no sit-down tables, it operates a no bookings policy.

In the dying days on summer, I finally got to José early enough to squeeze into an unoccupied corner by the bar. It was a warm day, but it was warmer inside. Space was so limited, I ate this meal standing up, rubbing bums with the woman behind me (curiously, her bum did not seem to mind), our bodies becoming increasingly sweatier, our laughs increasingly louder as the alcohol levels in our bloodstreams climbed and our hands getting increasingly dirtier as we tucked into the wave of small dishes.

Padron peppers, £4.00

Most of the dishes were quite elemental and invited you to use your hands.

Pisto, duck egg, £6.00

Much like enhanced versions of bar snacks, but where stewing or braising was involved, like this tomato and courgette stew that accompanied a fried duck egg for instance, it was brilliant. Satisfying bread dipping stuff.

Clams, fino, jamon, £7.00

Where less cooking was involved, like these bittersweet clams, it still went down a treat, One could smell the bubbling alcohol rising from the light broth, which also made for a fantastic bread dip. Heady.

Squid, romesco, £7.50

A cracking romesco! More paste than sauce, chopped nutty bits (almonds perhaps) , garlicky, full, rich, invitingly appetising – I though this was a stunning example of a retro recipe that is seeing a kind of resurgence in restaurant cooking today. Really nice.

Hake, garlic aioli, £6.00

Fried fish with a good whack of aioli was alright, but I ran out of bread by this point, and I didn’t really want to pay for more bread (£2.00) , but it was nice.

Iberico pork fillet, £9.50

Cooked medium rare (a la plancha, most likely) and with some sprinkles of paprika, it came unseasoned, but what it really needed were just a few sprinkles of rock salt to really bring out the excellent quality of the pork. Grilled iberico fillets are also something that’s coming into fashion these days, it’s so tender, fragrant and rich in flavour that aside from some heat, little else is needed. This was just served pretty much naked.

We paid exactly £50 for two. I must say, it was a little hard to concentrate on the excellent snippets of food, especially since the narrow bar table can only take three or four dishes at one time, any more, and there leaves very little elbow room. It gets trickier as neighbouring diners are constantly rubbing up against one another, with all the movement, it did feel like I was trying to have a meal on a moving bendy bus. Between spreading romesco on bread and putting it in my mouth, there were a few instances where my food was in danger of being knocked from its intended trajectory. As much fun as it was eating standing up, sweating and licking my fingers, I actually wished I ordered less food and more beer, or at least had managed to fight for a larger corner in the bar with stools. As a bar, it’s fucking brilliant, a couple of Alhambras here, a couple of plates of jamon iberico there, a template for the perfect way to usher in the weekend.

Make no mistake, the godfather of tapas is back, but this is merely a herald for greater things to come, the flashes of brillance in his recipes were inspiring, and I really cannot wait to see what sort of grand design he is planning for the launch of Pizzaro. I do wonder if Chef José has set this up as a testing ground to tinker with his fundamentals before official roll-out at his restaurant. Whether this is a mere incidental observation, or completely on purpose, I for one think that the kitchen is headed down a very exciting path. As it stands, Abel Lusa’s restaurants are still my favourite Spanish restaurants, Cambio de Tercio and Capote y Toros included, but I suspect I may have the same sentiments about Pizzaro before the year is over. Only time will tell. Pizzaro is coming, and I am insanely looking forward to that.

The Deets.

José
Tapas bar £25pp.
104 Bermondsey Street SW1 3UB
Tube : London Bridge

You love it. TO , Guardian , Metro , 12.5 , Lussorian , The London Bite , No Expert , Wine & Jazz

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My favourite London restaurant is Cambio de Tercio. I think Abel Lusa’s fabulous, often times adventurous and sometimes experimental change of pace to Spanish cooking is the best representative of the cuisine to grace the Big Smoke. This is my most frequented restaurant in London, since my first visit in 2004 (or 05, around then) when I moved to West London. In fact, it was one of the first reviews (the 3rd one if I’m not mistaken) I’d written when I started this blog.

I would like to think that I’ve eaten pretty much everything on its menu; witnessing some of its mainstay dishes – like the oxtail – evolve over time. I remember the days when I used to visit as frequently as my monthly paychecks. Heck, I even remember the days when Tendido Cero – the tapas bar opposite the street from Cambio – was attractive because it was BYO, and extremely cheap, by Kensington standards anyway.

Since I moved to North London last year, my former neighbourhood restaurant, has now become a pilgrimage, and returning to Old Brompton Road to sample the finest in (London based) Spanish cuisine, is ever more a treat. In the time since my move from West London, Abel had opened Tendido Cuatro in Parsons Green – a tapas bar which I will visit sometime in the coming weeks – but for now, it gives me great pleasure to return to Old Brompton Road to visit Abel’s newest venture: Capote y Toros.

This one is a bit of a departure from the serious Spanish cooking, in that the spotlight is shifted to sherries: In the glass, in the cooking and in the pudding. They boast forty or so sherries to choose from by the glass, and even more by the bottle. Sherry bars, appear to be the darling of the town at the moment. A swift google search will return more than a handful of pleasing reports of Capote y Toros. Summer is round the corner after all.

Those of you familiar with Cambio, will have noticed the matador paintings hung on the quirky painted theme of black, orange and pink walls. At Capote y Toros, the owner’s apparent passion for the sport is more pronounced than ever. In place of paintings, the walls are adorned with photographs, strong portraits, some in vibrant colour and others in eerie high contrast monochrome. The reference to the sport is even in its name, Capote y Toros is for Cape & Bulls. The ambiance is rockier, unhinged, raw, raunchous and zero ponce is involved. It’s about a return to the roots kind of thing.

Sherry time!

Flight of sherries, £12.50 for 5 x 50ml.

This was a real treat, and an education! My knowledge of sherry is about as deep as a puddle of water in the desert, but thankfully we were given a nicely summarise sheet explaining the five glasses of sherry which were brought out through the evening to match whichever tapas we were eating. I’ll try to reference them, as I work through the dish descriptions, but the first couple of glasses we started with were the paper dry, golden hued Manzanilla and the more balanced straw coloured fino. Unsurprisingly, the subsequent sherries would get darker in colour, and also more intense in flavour.

Pickled, preserved & cold

Iberico Sanchez Romero C’s ’5Js’ (£14) and assorted iberico charcuterie & cured cecina from Leon (£12).

In Abel’s own words, the Sanchez Romero 5Js are ‘Spanish caviar’ , and the pride of Cape & bulls are proudly displayed hanging from the ceilings wrapped in black cloth adorned with the 5J stamp. The jamon had delicate, olive rich flavours, nutty and genuinely addictive. Then again, any Iberico de bellota is guaranteed to be orgasmic anyway. Even more so when had with the two glasses of quickly diminishing fino and manzanilla. In addition, we also had an assortment of other cured cuts (from Iberico pigs of course) including the lomo (shoulder I think) and also slices of cecina (beef).

Baby anchovies marinated with Palo Cortado Vinaigrette , £4.50.

The next couple of dishes – cold – were accompanied by Amontillado; a fino but which was darker and stronger, and fortified with extra alcohol to a whopping 17.5%. This one was juicy and datey and less papery than the preceding sherries. You can kind of tell the colour differences in the photograph above between the fino (on the left) and the Amontillado.

Carpaccio of Duck Liver, reduced Pedro Ximenez, £6.50.

As the meal progressed, it wasn’t difficult to notice that most dishes were made with a version of sherry, and also how each of the dishes seemed to pair well with a recommended sherry.

Presented as carpaccio of foie, we thought this was the dish of the night. Sweetened with a reduced sauce of honeyed Pedro Ximenez, crusted in rock salt, and with a buttery smooth texture, like a parfait, a cameo appearance of the masterful skill in execution which is such a trademark of the cooking at Cambio de Tercio.

Chilled Andulucian Gazpacho, £4.00.

Decadent slices of duck liver mousse were followed by a bright and zesty cup of gazpacho. Mmm… so earthly and fresh..my palate be cleansed!

Fish

Moving on to the fish dishes, the waiter brought out the Oloroso. Even darker in colour and even more bone dry, I think. Truth be told, by now, I could hardly tell the difference.. I was well and truly tipsy by this point.

Garlic Prawns, £6.00.

Oh right of course, sweet, garlicky and wet prawns – no Spanish meal is complete without prawns.

Galician Octopus, Potato, Sweet Paprika, £6.75.

Exactly like Cambio, the bitter goey flavours, the slithery, oily textures, the smell of paprika, all except for the pureed potatoes. This is one of my favourite dishes at Cambio de Tercio, and I’m glad it’s on the Capote menu as well.

Roast cod in sobrasada, chorizo crust, courgettes carpaccio, £7.75.

Simply well cooked fish, that is only ever so slightly underdone in the centre. While not as deft in execution as CdT, it was still a remarkable plate of tapas.

Meat

With the meat dishes, came the most prized of the flight – the Palo Cortado. This sherry is a rarity in itself, with fewer than 2% of all Jerez production actually maturing into this wine. Slurp, slurp.

Meatballs “Palo Cortado Fragance” from Jerez, £4.75.

The sauce was dizzying good, tasting of roasted peppers cuddling those meatballs.

Piquillo Peppers stuffed with ox tail “Al Oloroso” , £6.50.

This was classy, babyfood textures of oxtail stuffed inside piquillo peppers. One can only hazard a guess that the sauce in this dish is similar to the meatballs sauce. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this one, hardly any chewing was involved. I washed down the oxtail with my glass of Palo Cortado.

Iberico Pork Cheeks cooked “Al Oloroso Dulce” Potato Cream, £6.50.

Really salty, and cunningly intense. The cheeks were pillow soft, all this richness cried out for lots of bread and even more sherry to balance out all that flavour.

Sweets

To finish, a glass of Pedro Ximenez, of course.

Mousse of sweet oloroso sherry, caramalised figs, £4.75.

I have always felt that CdT’s weakness were in their puddings, but on this showing, it would appear that things have changed. The sherry mousse, light as a feather, and sweet like white chocolate. It was an apt way to end the meal, considering the vibrancy of the dishes that came earlier.

Lemon and Moscatel sweet wine sponge and strawberries, £4.75.

But this was the winner. Sponge cake soaked in sweet wine, sinful.

Cambio de Tercio is still the jewel in Abel Lusa’s galaxy of restaurants, but Capote y Toros is an enticing addition to the diffusion of the brand. The quality of cooking is almost as slick as CdT and ultimately gratifying, the atmosphere in this narrow space is gut-bustingly intoxicatingly, and the sherries are deceptively easy to knock back. Picture the kitchen, whiffs of sherry floating in the air, evaporated from the cooking, resulting in merry chefs with opened bottles of the finest Jerez in one hand, and sauce pan in the other, it is no accident then that every other dish is spiked with sherry. How brilliant an idea it is then to use the best of Spanish cuisine as a vehicle to facilitate the appreciation of sherry. Absolutely genius.

The Gist of It

Capote y Toros
Sherry & Tapas & Jamon, £40pp
157 Old Brompton Rd SW5 0LJ
Tel: 020 7373 0567
Tube : Gloucester Road

Sherring: Time Out London ; Metro ; ES ; Jake and Jacki ; Sabrina’s Passions ; 12.5% ; Wine and the City

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I shan’t patronise you with a protracted preamble about the intertwined fate of how tapas became part of the culinary landscape of London (something which you no doubt are already well acquainted with), and simply get straight to the point: This is a rather perfect London tapas restaurant.

Hardly anything else was expected, considering Simon Mullins and Sanja Morris-Mullins, the owners, are also the brilliant minders behind 2005′s Salt Yard and 2008′s Dehesa. Ah, I see. So we shall expect another superb Mullins tapas bar in say 2014.

The decor is spell bindingly beautiful. Spread across two floors, in a once former 19th century built pub. All that dark wooden furniture cutting lovely shades of shadows around the food (and your dining partners), coupled with a contemporary, light-hearted approach to service, equals a formidable ambiance.

Anyway, you can read about history elsewhere, let’s skip ahead to the food.

Ibérico Pig’s Head Terrine £4.00

As the ingredient suggests, the terrine was gelatinous, unctuous, slippery and full of rich, salted pork goodiness. A champion terrine, no two ways about it.

Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, aged 5 years, Castro y González, Castilla-Leon £14.95

Five years? Yowza, that’s old pork leg. I think three years usually qualifies for the top grade of gran reserva, so I assume the older the better. Well I could be wrong. Whatever the case, I am guessing we were served about 75g, so £14.95 was pretty good value. Of course, Iberico ham is always amazing, this was no different really. It’s – how do we say – ‘Spain’s caviar’ afterall.

Italian Style Scotch Egg £3.75

I can’t recall what was so Italian about these. Runny yolk, check, crusty crumbly shell, check, creamy aioli, check. Nice, but you know it’s no Harwood Arms.

Chargrilled Salt Marsh Lamb with Farro, Peas, Broad Beans, Wild Garlic and Goat’s Curd £7.25

I think this dish is representative of the Salt Yard/Dehesa and now Opera Tavern’s delicious appeal. Delicately cooked lamb, juicy and tender, flavours emphasised with goats cheese, a touch of hearty wholesome richness with the peas and farro.

Mini Ibérico Pork and Foie Gras Burger £5.50 EACH.

Ah yes of course, the much lauded pork sliders. I suggest reading Marina of Metro’s description of these baby burgers, indeed as she points out, the ‘almost lubricious juiciness’ of the awesome iberico pork, translates into something more than worthy of the internet worship. Probably a little pricy, but so are most sliders in London.

Although having said that, I personally prefer the beef & bone marrow sliders at Spuntino. It’s just all that melted cheese, is so… visually engaging.

Steamed Sea Bream with Confit Salsify, Monks Beard, Capers and Smoked Anchovy Dressing £6.75

At last, we ended with a serenely steamed fillet of fish, that laid peacefully on a bed of sliced salsify.

The bill including a beer and a glass of wine was £68.63. Ah but you see, if you control that greed, a light tapas lunch with an affordable bottomline, can be reality.

With great hype, come those who will inevitably be disappointed. Such is the complex relationship between restauranteur and opinionated patron. You may read a whole lot of really positive reviews (this one included), but you will also read reports from some who don’t think so highly of Opera Tavern. I thought the food was more or less spot on. Maybe critique exists because this is a form of restaurant that we are already so familiar with. And depending on your predisposition to eating out; it’s either going to be pleasantly familiar or a case of pleasant, but oh so familiar. But I think you might lean toward the former after you visit it. Definitely. Maybe.

Add OT to your list of recommended tapas restaurants. This one – like its heritage – is a keeper.

The Gist of It

Opera Tavern
Perfect Tapas, £40pp
23 Catherine ST WC2B 515
Tel : 0207 836 3680
Tube: Covent Garden

Alot more snaps on my flickr.

Trotters : TimeOut London , Foodie’s Land , The blog about nothing… in London , The Perfect Trough , The critical couple , Andy Hayler , The Skinny Bib

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This is one restaurant where I have expended more of my earnings than any other. Before I started writing this blog, Cambio de Tercio was the pay day reward I gave myself at end of every month, it had always turned out to be a fantastic evening. It’s a great restaurant to say the least, my most frequented (aside from Byron) and it remains my favourite to this day. I’ve done all my celebrations here, with family and friends, the folks especially love it; In the seven (or so) years since I first visited, every meal was inspiring. I can think of no better place in town for a midweek solo affair, since the staff ooze uber-warmth, that you never feel lonely. It is probably the singular reason why I refuse to uproot from Gloucester Road. I live about ten minutes from the restaurant. Cambio has been around since ’95, an old favourite in the neighbourhood, while some of Old Brompton Road’s luminaries have since moved on (Ambassade de l’Ile, and Lundums before that), Cambio remains consistently oversubscribed on weeknights and needless to say, on weekends. I’ve seen the menu go through minor jiggles and structural transformations from straight up three course menus to a grazing tapas teasers and to its current format, a mix and match combo of tapas and more substantial courses. It is perplexing that they have flown under the Michelin radar all this time, maybe those guys want to keep it a secret just as well. Prices have always been reasonable considering the bracket of clientele they are aiming for, you could eat perfectly well for £40 in 2004, and you still can eat perfectly well for £40 in 2010.

Cheese lollipops to start

The name Cambio de Tercio comes from bullfighting, meaning a radical change in direction, probably a reference to the original intent of creating something special, rather than yet another tapas bar. The bullfighting homage – romantic as it is – is the major inspiration for the decor. Red, orange and black walls cradle artwork of matadors and bulls (created by Luiz Canizares) which is also available to buy.

During the early days of this blog, I didn’t hesitate writing up Cambio (it was my seventh) and as cringe-worthy as it was, here is a link to the first write-up. Please don’t read it. But in case you do, you’ll find that the underlying recipes and major ingredients haven’t change all the much, in fact since my first meal in ’03, food has taken an evolutionary path to refinement, and its core formula – a winning one – has only been perfected with time.

Service at CdT is unique. You won’t find many restaurant managers shaking your hand like an old acquaintance as you come into the restaurant, and if you become a regular, brace for the bevy of waiters patting your back, and even more outstretched hands, making you feel like the centre of attention. The cuisine may be haute, but service is definitely down to earth. It might seem a little over the top to some, but I certainly welcome the warmth, it does not feel contrived, the arms are always genuinely wide open.

I took the missus on a Tuesday night in early August ’10, we hadn’t been back in a year (the longest yet) and wanted to try their new summer menu. It took the form of a six course taster (and petit fours) for a jaw-droppingly affordable £37, representing fantastic value, even considering the economic climate.

No.1 “Foie gras emulsion, Pedro Ximenez, roasted corn, Manchego cheese Cappuccino”

Love it. Flavours of corn (like popcorn actually) and vanilla probably from the natural potency of the foie gras, which has been whipped into a mousse. The foam – in my humble opinion – was functional in addition to being stylistic. It tasted like a gradual change of texture, from the bubbly to the airy (mousse). The foie gras mousse is spiked with pedro ximenez which had settled to the bottom, a sticky caramel syrup with a gentle sting of alcohol. Never did it get too tarty as the foie gras flavour had remained strong. Accomplished cooking, superbly well balanced flavours with particular attention paid to textures.

No.2 “Our famous Andalucian chilled gazpacho soup, cherry ice cream & lobster”

This is a long time classic on their menu, I think it was introduced around 2005 and it is ever as fabulous. Chopped peppers, cucumber, lobster tail (ohh baby) and cherry sorbet…

… and the ice-cold gazpacho. Oh, the rawness of the gazpacho just bites the palate, it exhibits a fantastic liveliness that just awakens the senses. The crunchiness of the chopped vegetables, the slushy sorbet, the rigid bounce of the lobster; it makes one take notice of the textures. A papery feel on the tongue, which I assumed was the liberal use of olive oil. Another fantastic starter.

No.3 “Peach, rocket, almonds and seared tuna salad, Amontillado vinaigrette”

Simplicity, zen, elegance, it is just a salad, but a good one, with well-chosen ingredients. The peaches made this dish – the juiciness – and the tuna, gently seared to rare perfection. What an appetising start, just what the summer palate craves.

Bread.

A distinct change, bread were once baguette rolls (made in house), but have been replaced by doughier equals. The texture was soft, wet and spongy, dare I say it’s like dough used to make pizza. Chives and cheese for flavour.

No.4 “Supreme of hake “a la plancha” with baby squid cooked in its ink”

Effortlessly silken. One of few restaurants which pays attention to cooking fish to just a tad under, giving rise to this fragile flakiness that slips away into mouth very easily. Well seasoned, grilled to perfection. Sharing the limelight were wonderfully spongy baby squids, served with a gravy as black as its ink, visually arresting, it had the hearty fragrance of fish stock, and it went particularly well with the hake. Brilliant.

No.5 “Flame grilled fillet of beef with seasonal vegetables”

About the only thing that was ‘ordinary’ on the taster menu was the beef fillet. Seasonal vegetables included artichokes, enoki mushroom, parsnip, spring onion, aubergine and carrot.

Don’t get me wrong, the beef was still a sterling example of the medium rare and the well-rested. The juices were spewing as one bit into it. The sauce was muscular and bovine, which helped to emphasize the natural (or lack of I should say) beefiness of the fillet. Each of the veges added just another layer of flavour to the beef. Another masterful exercise of balancing flavours and textures.

Before we broke for dessert, I ordered one more item off the a la carte menu…

Chargrilled Galician octopus, potato parmentier, paprika oil £12

If you love octopus, you’ll love this dish. The octopus took on the taste of burning flames, paprika enhanced it, but the real winner was the tremendous gooey potato parmentier. Supremely appetising, as if potatoes had been puree-ed in a micro blender to become this sticky gravy. There are no grainy bits, we do wonder if the fine texture are down to good lashings of flour.

Double take, check out the slimy potatoes. It’s filling in itself, but I usually mop it up with bread anyway – a personal ritual. You know you want this. This is my favourite dish at the restaurant, I order this every time I visit.

No.6 “Strawberry ice cream, raspberries and coconut foam”

Personally, I think Cambio de Tercio’s weakest links are its puddings. Aside from its decadent chocolate fondant (which most restaurants seem to offer these days), the rest aren’t all that exciting. I would go for the cheese platter instead.

Having said that, I quite enjoyed this, simple as it were, the whipped coconut mousse was probably the best part, it tasted like a ‘warm’ sorbet. Cleansing, cooling and zesty. A calm finish.

Tendido Cero is across the road, the sister tapas bar, it is usually where the overflow of human traffic is directed toward. I’m not sure if it is still BYO, but while it is cheaper (and pretty good), I would recommend you try Cambio first, because the two derivative restaurants (including Tendido Cuatro) are no where near as good as the flaship restaurant. Two taster menus, one fabulous octopus dish, two glasses of wine, sparkling water and service amounted to £116. It is great value considering the amount of food we had.

Given that they were once voted the best Spanish restaurant outside of Spain by Spain’s Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food a few years ago, I am so glad that CdT are still on top of their game. The refined feel, the attention to textures and balance, this Institution feels as fresh as the first visit. The restaurant exudes a lively vibe, mostly emanating from the busy staff shuffling tirelessly to plonk food on tables, and to work the floor at the same time. It remains a firm favourite, if not my favourite restaurant in London. If I had to choose, this would definitely be the one place I would return to again and again. There you go, another overly gushy, loved up blog post from yours truly. This however, is the real deal and the one that is closest to the heart. Highly recommended. Six and a half stars out of five.

More photographs on my flickr stream.

The Gist of It

Cambio de Tercio
Spanish, £50pp ; 7 Course taster menu £37.
163 Old Brompton Road SW5 0LJ
Tel: 020 7244 8970
Tube: Gloucester Road

Changing pace: Time Out London ; Matthew Norman ; Rafa Nadal loves it too! ; PigPig’s Corner ; Genuiness.

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All text and photography on this blogpost is copyright and belongs to Kang Leong, LondonEater.com. If you repost this without my permission, bad things will happen. So please don’t do it.

Generally speaking, we Londoners are still very much in love with sharing bite sized portions, and 2009 certainly has been the year of tapas. Gone are the days when we accidentally wandered into La Tasca hoping to have our expectations exceeded and the tapas bar (forgive the pun) has metaphorically been raised. Salt Yard and Barrafina, you have competition. I didn’t pay much attention to this rising sharing culture till Ollie so eloquently pointed out his shrinking plates. Sifting through my own archives, I realise that I rode that trend, from Iberica to Barrica and to the Polpo (albeit bacaro style as opposed to tapas).

As you know, there are three Brindisa kitchens in town, the first one, Tapas Brindisa at the corner of Borough market, the other Casa Brindisa in South Kensington and this one left to slog it out with the Soho tapas masters. I shalt dwell on the ultimate brand power the Brindisa name holds, which is synonymous with importing fine Spanish perishables. I must admit, after a lukewarm experience at Tapas Brindisa, I wasn’t expecting fireworks from this visit; that’s not to say that the Brindisa experience is necessarily bad, it’s just… very blasé. Anyway, this once mighty name attracted huge queues since opening in 2008, but as I walked past it on the last friday before Christmas, I was astounded to find a deserted Tierra Brindisa. Trend, ain’t it funny? One cannot help but roll one’s eyes when one witnesses the internet catching on to the next greatest trend. As a blogger keeping his fingers firmly on the pulse, I must admit that it is fun riding it (oh yes, I remember Bocca di Lupo) , but you know, there is nothing I loathe more than cramming into an oversubscribed restaurant enjoying the current market conditions, or worse yet, restaurant staff giving prospective diners the cold shoulder while their egos are being stroked by the twittophere. Sigh. So anyway, part of me was delighted at the sight of an empty – once oversubscribed – restaurant, as I could now finally enjoy a quiet lunch with the missus, and maybe also that I have popped the Rocky DVD into my macbook once too many times as I do stand on the shoulders of the proverbial underdog.

Fervent ranting aside, let’s now kick start the review properly with a compliment of Tierra Brindisa’ decor. It’s charming to say the least, small with the low ceilings making it feel smaller yet and while I don’t quite agree with the pale green and yellow they have chosen as a theme, I did find the open kitchen toward the back enthralling. We ordered a couple of glasses of tipples – their house Rioja at £4 a go. First plates to land are Potato Omellette (£4.50) , Home style Chicken Croquetas (£6.50) and Padron Peppers (£5.50)

It seems like their prices have gone up as there is a 50p difference between my bill and what’s currently showing on their website. Anyway, so we got off to a good start with the spicy smoke okra like peppers to which – fortunately – none threaten to take down my tastebuds. I really enjoyed the chicken croquetas, a densely creamy centre, as if whole pots of Campbells finest cream of chicken had been distilled into it, and finally a delightfully soothing – albeit served cold – potato omelette, seemingly defying the laws of nature by managing to pack velvetiness in the stodge.

There was a smattering of daily specials, including this one, Red Mullet a la plancha with salsa verde. £8.50.

Sadly this dish didn’t taste as good as it looked, the fishiness was overpowering, and I didn’t really find their a la plancha method any different than pan frying on tefal.

Luckily we went for the pork cheeks with almonds and golden raisins (£8.50) instead of falling for the temptation of steak…

…because it is a delightfully challenging task articulating the amazing melting ability of this succulent dish. The meat was not only incredibly tender, it was moist, buttery and disintegrated as soon as it hit my tongue. In total contrast to the bland fish, these cheeks had incredible flavour perhaps due in part to the tendon bits which added to the melting sensation, perched over spinach and drizzled with a rich red wine gravy. The meat felt as it it had been stewing for hours, nay days if not weeks till it attained this fragile state… top stuff. My only complaint? Yup, you guessed it – small portions.

Our meal ended by sharing a largely forgettable and stick-to-your-teeth meringue served with a dollop of pineapple sorbet and passion fruit sauce. The final bill plus service came to £52.26. I am still unconvinced by the Brindisa kitchens, there is still one more to go till I complete the trinity, but I doubt it’s going to light up my life. It is still as pricy as ever, fifty quid for 6 dishes plus a few glasses and I was seriously contemplating topping up at Byrons afterward. On the other hand, the food was actually not bad, especially the chicken croquetas and of course the oozing pork cheeks, really yummy. Following on a discussion I had with a fellow restaurant frequenter, I think the Brindisa brand has matured into a dependable outfit; I think you’ll likely have a largely pedestrian but good meal. Maybe I’m slowly getting over my tapas fever, and if you are searching for something pulsating, perhaps its best to join the hashtag munching army on twitter and ride those waves.

More photographs from the meal here.

The Gist of It

Tierra Brindisa official site £25pp
46 Broadwick Street W1F 7AF
Tel 020 7534 1690
Tube Leicester Square

Other views on the strength of the Brindisa brand : Suzie’s Notes ; Becky’s Blog ; Kate Spicer for Times ; Charmaine Mok for TimeOut London ; Jay Rayner for Guardian

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Barrica was never on my eat-list. The original intention was suppose to be an impromptu power lunch at oversubscribed Lantana to give the now legendary steak sandwiches a try. The steak sandwiches remain folklore for now. Unable to squeeze into Lantana, we stood at the front door of Viet baguette (next door down), contemplating… but eventually, we decided to haul our longing and sorry fat asses out from Charlotte’s place and onto Goodge street in search of something affordable, something to share and something delicious.

It was a double date but not like what you think. I was to meet my bromantic brother from the hood – Mark; while Supercharz was to lunch with her mushy girlie mate (also) from the hood – Shalinee. We decided to meet up at the height of lunch at 1pm and were braced for a busy service at Lantana. As we emerged with long faces, we went to plan B – Guy’s recommendation of a newish tapas bar which had the toes to dance with some of Goodge street’s finest Spanish pretenders. Personally, I was rather glad that we were going to a place which had not received immense internet coverage yet, it was Friday afterall, and we were all braindead. Barrica is owned by Tim Luther formerly of Albion wine shippers and whom has brought his wine know-how to the Barrica wine list (which we denied ourselves the pleasures of trying out on this visit). In the kitchen, ex-Moro man James Knight is responsible for crafting the Barcelona inspired menu. It’s a good bedtime story thus far, but the proof is in the cazuela.

Our meal started with a selection of the cheaper bite-sized dishes including ham & cheese croquetas (4 pieces for £4) ; Sobrasada cos Tostada (£2) ; Tortillas de Patata (£3) and Padron peppers (£4.50)

The first impressions were good. The omellette (tortilla) was cut into bite-size rhombuses, and they were mushy potato rich and well seasoned, appetitising. We noted the paltry croquetas portions, but were roundly impressed (well I was anyway) with the warmth of the creamy centre. Mark best described the peppers as bitter ladyfingers, and I was glad that I wasn’t the one in ten to experience a superhot pepper. Phew. Out of this selection, I liked the sobrasado the most. Described as a sort of rillette but made with iberico ham, it was a vibrant orange paste, and served on top of toasted bread. Both citrusy and peppery and definitely something which I could snack on forever.

The menu features a number of interesting ingredients including skate cheeks and bone marrow, which made ordering a lot more exciting, than the usual tapas joint. Here we tried the breaded pig’s trotters (£5)

Served with a kind of tomato based paste (I think, but I guess you can correct me) and then garnished with whole nuts. I thought the paste was so-so, it was no better than M&S red pesto, and as for the breaded pork; It had far too many boney bits in it, and I ended up spitting more than I swallowed.

We tried a couple of dishes on the specials board too, including crabs on toast (£6) and veal cheeks cooked with spinach (£6).

The crabs on toast were pretty good and a little different from the British recipes which I am used to. The citrus zing was clearly missing, and in it’s place a subdued fishiness lingered on my buds. I know this sounds strange, but the crab paste had reminded me of california roll, but with butter spread all over it. It was still recognisable for what it was, but I’ve had better crabs on toast in London, especially the full bodied chunky ones (with roe) at Great Queen Street.

On the otherhand, the veal cheeks with spinach was one of the best things I had eaten all week. Regretfully, I hadn’t managed to snap a photo of what the dish looked like (which wasn’t much to be honest), so you’ll have to take my word for it. It was served with a thick & darkly coloured gravy (which I assume is a kind of red wine sauce). The veal cheeks were so supremely tender than it was verging on being slimy. The flavours instantly grabbed our attention, a concentrated pan-fried smokiness deeply infused within the meat and an intense beefiness that sizzled on my palate. Oh heaven.

The other heavenly soft and silky meat dish were the chargrilled mutton (£7).

Initially we thought these were the veal cheeks, what with its tenderness. We were quite surprised at how mellow the flavours were, being that the characteristic lambiness was mostly subdued. It was beautifully pink and smoky and then garnished with a sort of green pesto like paste; This was something I could eat again and again. So simple yet so good.

Of course, no tapas meal would be complete without squid (£6)

Grilled to impart a tinge of bitterness, the texture was smooth and drizzled for a wet finish. Gently seasoned and with garlic chips for garnish, the squid tasted agreeable.

Next up were the clams, and what I thought was an instant classic. Served with a brothy sauce; the clams were hearty and heady.

I’m running out of adjectives now, so I’ll just talk about one last dish: bone marrow on toast.

Reminiscent of a sweet onion tart, the bone marrow were presented ‘bone free’ and cut into little circular shaped which looked alot like whole scallops. When the marrow cubes disintegrated in my mouth, it let out a wave of mature fatty-marbling flavours which balanced well against the sweet(ish) flavours. Really nice.

Our bill came to £63, just under £16 each. Overall, I liked this place more than I thought I was going to, my gripe with it were the relatively small portions. Cutting up some of the dishes (the crabs on toast especially) called for basic training in clinical surgery. Food was mostly good with some dishes being more inventive than the average London tapas bar (whatever that may be). Food also felt rustic and everything was well cooked. I’m surprised there’s no hype around this place (no twitter presence perhaps) and bearing in mind of similar tapas bar in the locale (Salt Yard and Barrafina included), I think Barrica stacks up against the competition rather well. Oh one more thing, the space is a beautifully presented rectangular space – you can’t beat yellow walls, surely. Understated stuff and I think it offers slick cooking which should eventually attract a loyal crowd, which right now includes me. As a lover of most things Spanish, I’m happy to have stumbled across Barrica, it’s a gem in the smoke.

More photographs on my flickr account here.

The Gist of It

Barrica official site £25pp
62 Goodge Street W1T 4NE
Tel : 020 7436 944
Tube : Goodge Street

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I am just about the biggest fan of Spanish food, I could be served deep-fried croquettes – with a frozen centre – and probably still walk away a happy camper. In London, I have already established my favourite Spanish spot – Cambio De Tercio, (go there it’s good) – and ironically enough my eating schedule of late has excluded many Spanish restaurants. Until now that is.

Like many things in food & wine, I heard about the awesomeness of Iberica through word of mouth. Reading up the several blog posts already out there on this place (here and here), I swiftly put it on my list. This tapas bar isn’t the usual undersized eatery usually the case of London’s finest. Instead, Iberica is spread over two storeys, and its namesake brand is also a purveyor of other things Spanish. The shops based within this establishment also sell anything from olive oil to music DVDs, though I didn’t tour the shopping bits when I was there. I guess Iberica is suppose to be a bit of a Spanish Centre; it almost doesn’t look like a restaurant, which explains how Mark missed it when walking along Great Portland Street. Anyway, so this place is massive. Iberica – the tapas bar – is found in most of the ground floor, and one can just about spot the formal restaurant -Caleya – on the 2nd floor. There’s lots of open space at the venue, the 2nd floor is an exposed mezzanine, and downstairs, tables line the glass walls. As I waited for Mark to arrive, I ordered a glass of red – the Castillo de Perelada Crianza 2006, £6.50, a mix of six grapes and one I would really recommend you try if you like jammy reds bursting with life and vibrancy. Plenty of new worldliness, as whiffs of strawberries and (i know it sounds odd) bubblegum excited the nose. My palate probably needs more training as I usually lean toward younger and sweeter wines – preferring new world pinots (and beaujolais) and tempranillos to old world burgundies or big bad syrahs.

A more than adequate exposition, time to dive straight into the tapas menu. The menu is large, consisting of over 40 selections. There is little they don’t serve at Iberica it seems. About the only thing I regret not ordering is the Iberico ham platter – priced at £20 – which is a selection of Extremadura D.O , Guijuelo D.O and Heulva D.O.. Some people think I’m just a snob for my preferance of jamon iberico, but I sincerely do enjoy the deep sweet and nutty flavours it imparts, in addition to the juicy oily layer that accompanies the usually hand carved slices. Oohh, I really regret it now.

Lets kick things off shall we – (L to R) Panfried monkfish parceles with lemon “fritos de pixin” (£9) ; Broken eggs with iberico ham and fried potatoes (£7.50)

The monkfish was alright, the fish was fresh and bouncy, the batter itself was stimulating, but the food got cold quite quickly, and the loss of the sizzly subdued this dish. On the other hand, the broken eggs – which already sounded like a winner on the menu – were fantastic. There was an endearing saltiness that lingered on at the back of my tongue – I am guessing it’s due in part to the deep flavours of the iberico ham combining with the really excellently pan-fried potatoes sitting under the egg. It was wholesome and rich, my favourite dish of the evening.

Next up were the Fried Artichokes with pear alioli (£6.85)

A powdery crisp on the outside, the insides retained much of the original juices – I tasted alot of garlic (a good thing in this case) and the pear aioli was simply divine. Really creamy, really rich, just hints of pear, and smothering the artichokes with the sauce led to one very satisfied LondonEater, and I’m not even a fan of artichokes. The last time I had such a memorable vegetarian tapas was Salt Yard’s courgette flowers, which seemed similar in execution and conception.

Of course, we had to get something from the chef’s special section and chose the Quail with chocolate guanaja, pomegranate and creamy potato€ (£7.80)

Um, I didnt like. First of all, the dish doesn’t look very appetising, and under the low lights in the restaurant, it just looked abit confusing to me. I couldn’t really taste much of the chocolate. While I anticipated sweetness, it was mostly bitter. As for the quail – it was a little gamey but mostly it just tasted deflated to me. I don’t know, I thought this dish was just ill conceived to begin with, it sounded like it could be fantastic on the menu, but in hindsight, it was just gimmicky.

Thankfully, that was about the only bad thing we ate on the night. The ham croquetes (£6, pictured here) was really milky and creamy on the inside, not quite the best I’d had in London (that honor belongs to Cambio..) but better than most.

Right then, on to the meats.

We ordered both pork and beef. Starting with the epic sounding Iberica Pork loin ‘presa’ with tangy herb sauce and confit (£8.30, pictured here). It was superbly tender, with a cloud-like texture that you could tear away with just the lightest of bites. Yummy. It was mostly salty, but perhaps just abit too much to the point where I was experiencing abit of bitterness.

Finally, the Grilled beef spare rib “churrasco” with rosemary and garlic (£7.80)

Again, extremely tender and another flavour explosion, but the texture with this one was mysteriously bouncy as opposed to a usual melt away sensation. It was reminiscent of spam, but in a good way. I do wonder if some sort of tenderising powder had been added during the preparation stages, still it tasted good and that’s what matters in the end.

Finally the desserts – Caramelised Spanish Rice Pudding (£3.50) and Stewed Nectarine with Cinnamon Ice cream (£3.85)

Both puds were exquiste, in particular the rice pudding which Mark said tasted as good as the best rice puddings he’s had in Barcelona. Andy who runs Spittoon also has high praises for iberica’s rendition of this particular recipe. As for the stewed nectarine, well it was equally fantastic, and the lasting memory of the airy cinnamon ice cream lingers on as I reflect on the meal…

…All in all, I quite enjoyed Iberica. There were alot of positives, flavours were mostly in the right places and I came away feeling satisfied with the meal in general. It probably hasn’t knocked Cambio off my top list, as I feel that the cooking lacks the epic clinical touch, though, I have a feeling this is probably deliberate, as they’ve probably saved the theatrics for the posher eatery – Caleya – which resides in the same building. Don’t get me wrong though, food is still tasty and Iberica definitely comes highly rated. I think we experienced a proper taste of Spain what with it being a packed out Monday night and with most of the diners speaking Spanish. Our bill came to £85 plus two glasses of wine and service, it is just a tad over the budget, but overall food tastes good, portions are significant, and it’s definitely a place, I would go back again.

When you go, make sure you try the broken eggs.

The Gist of It

Iberica official site £35pp
195 Great Portland Street
Tel: 02076368650
Tube: Great Portland St

More pictures of the meal here.

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