The last time Bruno Loubet was cooking professionally in London, I was apparently on scene to try his much praise innovative yet traditionally grounded French cooking. On that occasion, he was a guest chef for Pierre Koffman’s superbly successful Selfridges pop-up, which in 2009, had critics and bloggers swooning more about the gravity of the occasion rather than for the quality of the cooking. On that night, Bruno Loubet’s signature dish on the Koffman menu was his take on the millefeuille, puff pastry elegantly layered with rich chocolate sauce and pear, a masterful lesson in French pudding. Naturally, we were spellbound with the output of a Loubet-led kitchen cooking Koffman recipes. I wondered then about the story behind Bruno Loubet, since his wasn’t a name I instantly recognised

A little while ago, I met with Laissez fare, a fellow foodblogger for dinner and I walked away quite amazed with his wealth of knowledge regarding restaurants in London and otherwise. A kindred spirit and a gentlemen, my impression of this guy was that he just loved to eat out. So our conversations started with the obvious heavily promoted big guns around town and from there, it led him to speak about his favourite bars in town – especially the hidden ones which aren’t talked about as much. It turns out there is a plush bar on the 3rd floor of Le Atelier de Joël Robuchon, yes that international sensation situation in Soho and which is proudly one of only seven institutions in London to hold two coveted michelin stars. So here’s what I know, Joel Robuchon’s team sent out a newsletter to their clientele on the 20th Jan 2010 informing the public that starting from the 21st, the Le Salon Bar would effectively turn into a setting for a spot of ‘low tea’, every week from Thursday through Saturday, 3 to 5 pm. I suppose this would make for a good meeting place to discuss business toward the end of the working week and so on. My partner in crime was smitten with the concept and instantly booked our first available friday afternoon off to sample their afternoon tea

As you know, I am now half way round the other side of the world basking in the sun. It’s been eight years since I left sunny Brunei, and in that time, friends have moved on to the bigger and better, I somehow feel as if I had only just awoken from a long coma, as the world is not the same as I remembered it. I have been catching up with some old friends from high school and I remember the days when Terry was the bonafide babe magnet at St Johns – I mean, girls used professed their love for him in the playground and all, very public. Good times, that was a long time ago. Today, Terrance is the chef/owner of his cafe in our home town, Kuala Belait, aiming to bring a sense of style to the humble town – coffee, elegant puds and a cosy laid back setting. I have much respect for independent cafes and so I thought I’d ask for the opportunity to gain an insight into what it takes to run a cafe

One of the most memorable meals I had in 2009 was the newly opened Eastside Inn restaurant in Farringdon. The pride and joy of Bjorn van der Horst, formerly of La Noisette, the food was simply superb and cooking was of a high order. The major issues I had mainly was to do with the high prices, and also the rather boring dining space, however where I left it during my last visit was merely half the story. Half the story because the unique feature of Eastside Inn is that this establishment is in fact two eateries in one. One being the restaurant, and on the other side of the wall, the Bistro. Hooked on the haute cuisine rendition, I vowed to return to try the Bjorn’s concept of something a little less formal, and a little more regional

And with a whimper of a bang, 2010 has finally arrived, Happy New Year folks. I trust everyone celebrated with enthusiasm and alcohol in equal measure. Myself, I watched the neighbours light up their backyard with a modest display. The lights, the sleeping in, ohhh the Jack O’Shea porterhouse… all still vividly lingering at the back of my mind. It certainly feels like a million years ago since I last wrote about a restaurant, was I ever a food blogger? So the end of year break has given me much needed R and R, and also time to finally try out some restaurants which eluded me in ’09, and amongst them : Galvin Bistrot de Luxe. This restaurant was one of the most widely blogged about restaurants in 2009; or at least many of the bloggers I read had been and raved about the food; In fact the press has been so positive that I haven’t read a bad review as yet

Every now and again, something new comes to town sets off waves of gushing remarks and generates so much intrigue among the eaterati that one cannot help but to buy into the word of mouth. We’re human afterall, and have a vested interest in witnessing a supposed second coming, or at least the next meteoric restaurant opening. After reading many a tall tale of Chef Bjorn van der Horst’s double whammy the Eastside Inn Bistro and Restaurant, I waited for the euphoria (three months?) to settle before finally making my own way to bear witness at the latest stuff of legends to grace the city

In between my kitchen waltz (see Part I), I was alternating with the parallel of events at the front of house, and of course, the two are completely different worlds altogether. I had arrived early at 5.30 pm when most of the staff were only just starting up. I stood at the front door, nervously waiting to be greeted by the owner. I hear the clacking of heavy leather shoes coming down the stairs behind me, before the man extends his hand. “I’m Walter, welcome to Gazette.”

I have this presumption that since Knightsbridge is the quintessential tourist trap, eateries leading up to Harrods can mostly be disregarded, such as the hollow glitz that is the Brompton Quarter cafe, for example. But then there are those places which look intriguing, precisely the reason Racine has attracted me for so long. Like the rest of Knightsbridge, there’s always a bit of pretention in the air, and the ambiance at Racine is characteristic of the area. Belligerently looking to fit in and it is the reason which has turned me off from this place after years of pressing my forehead against the darkly windows. It’s personal I guess, I dislike restaurants which force me to act like an adult

I was half expecting a svelte Audrey Tautou to jump out from behind the red satin curtains and amaze us all with a bout of song and dance, such was the fantasy filled spectacle that Le Cassoulet exuded, oh and we’re in South Croydon for this one

The scene is set against the neighbourly backdrop of Chiswick. Tranquillity seemingly dominating this part of West London, a lazy suburbia far removed from the frenzied cry of the urban jungle. Time for lunch me thinks

I will never be able to afford the Martin 0M-28. The solid mahogany, the musky rosewood and that resonant, clear and crisp ring, I was John Mayer possessed strumming along to ‘No such thing’, now eternally burned into my memory from years of fandom. Achingly, I have to put down the guitar in the shop on Denmark Street and head out to lunch across the road at Giaconda instead, and sit there to dream about legendary guitars seemingly tempting me to empty my wallets. But in recessionary times, I’ve only got enough for a Blueridge, not quite a Martin or a Taylor and definitely not a Cherry Sunburst Les Paul

There are two Toms in London who appeal to me. Both are men of food and both have legends written about their conquests in the kitchen. “Why yes of course I would like to sample an all expense paid meal at Tom Ilic” when their hype department called. Can we stop calling this food blagging and call it a blag-pass instead? It sounds rather more palatable. Read at your peril

Negotiating tight side streets past the imposing museums of Les Invalides, I finally found this traditional restaurant with no official website, or little mention elsewhere… oh and it starts at 8pm. Half an hour till eating time, will it be worth the trek

So this is the summer box. Faultless presentation, the box is so shiny, you can actually see the distorted reflection of my arm in it. Years ago when he began, Pierre Herme actually opened his first boutiques in Tokyo, before coming back to his motherland to satisfy French sweet teeth. I settled on a bench outside the nearby St Sulpice church to break open the box.

Paris! I went, I ate and I ate even more. Reporting back with all the action from the weekend of excess, we start with this truly French Bistro located in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower

So, everybody knows that I have a sweet tooth, right? Alright, I declare I have a thing for good macarons. I Qype-d this one from me iPhone while in Saarf London and its true, this place has no shop sign that spells out its name, and you do need to look for the giant pink ice-cream cone by the front door to find it

Pompous pretension or serious contender of applied arts and gastronomy? Based in the 18th century townhouse which once bore the Dior label; we take a trip to the institution where haute cuisine and haute couture meet

Morgan M official site 489 Liverpool Rd N7 8 (020) 7609 3560 £39pp three course dinner The Islington high street is superb. It is already home to that amazing wine shop – The Sampler – which allows one to try about 80 wines at a go. Abit further tucked away, is apparently Arsene Wenger’s favourite eatery in North London. When the offer came knocking for a complimentary meal, I was more than a little excited