It has been at least a year since I last visited Great Queen Street, a restaurant which I frequented in 2008. Still signage-free and firmly offline, the low profile hasn’t kept No.32 from becoming the establishment it is today. Owned by chef/writer Tom Norrington-Davies, he has made 32 a name for its nameless self by serving slick food with a decidedly British feel, revered all around and critically acclaimed, and I love it too. Afterall, I thought their crabs on toast was the very best thing I ate in 2008.

Oh you know me, I harbour distaste for ponce even though I am guilty of appreciating the pretension which has enabled restaurants to suck my wallet dry, at times anyway. If you are reading this, there is a good chance you will already have eaten at Great Queen Street. You would have probably enjoyed reading the flurry of reviews spinning new angles on the bare-bones, no-shit policy at GQS. High end British bistro food, once a novelty in these parts, is now in abundance. Every other pub out there is now a gastropub, or wants to be one. Speaking of pubs, I’ve just learnt that my local – The Prince Regent – had packed it in recently. Strong competition from Byron perhaps. A sign that it’s time for me to uproot from West London maybe. I have been looking into artist studios, you know Sam Taylor-Wood style, flooding natural light from large windows, mandatory. If you have leads, let me know would you.

I had never visited on a Sunday, mainly because it never used to open on Sundays, and when it did, it was always difficult to secure a table. It is the perfect venue for family gatherings, and GQS have family-portioned feasts positioned to cater to this crowd on weekends. If I never went to Goodman, I would be more impressed with their Hereford Rib roast. The shop front is still as unassuming as ever, and the burgundian sheen maintaining a majestic lustre. Tumblers seemed smaller than I remembered, though the Beaujolais are still as bitterly jammy as I remembered them. Slurp. One of their major features of course, is that daily menu – like a box of chocolates, you know what to expect, but there are always surprises. Hereford steaks, roast chicken, terrines and hearty soups largely unchanged from previous iterations. It feels a little like a lottery, was I going to see samphire or crabs on toast this time around? I didn’t hold my breath, both were missing. Service is still something I admire at GQS. A bunch of cool kids in grey t-shirts and jeans and striped aprons. Serving with an air of maturity, a major laid back attitude, just so cool. GQS exudes a sort of atmosphere that makes one feel like a secret agent. Yeah I’m MI6, my over achieving imagination says. So our waiter was American, dare I say a New Yorker, oh hell I’m hopeless with identifying American accents anyway, he welcomed us and read out the specials. I forgot! GQS specials, I raised my head to the chalk board just outside the kitchen. Shows how long since my last visit.

“Today we have mussels on… and crabs on toast”. YES. Winner, get in Kang. Say no more sir, we want two, please. £7.40 each.

Glorious! Fishy, muddy and the vigorous taste of roe. I think it just might be better three years on. The sourdough toast is puffy soft and it’s inherently acidity compliments the strength of the topping. A squid of lemon brings out the mineral aspect of this dish, it just about leaves an oysters-like aftertaste. I hazard a guess that this is made primarily with brown crab meat, with bits of orange coloured roe – visible through the brown paste – that gives it the wonderful fishiness and graininess as opposed to a citrus clean texture of only just white crab meat. Instant classic, I am so glad that GQS are still doing this. Three thumbs up.

I usually mop up her food but my other half finished her crabs on toast, a good sign, but I could have eaten at least another. Rolling onto the main courses, firstly the Roast Old Spot at £13.80.

The meat is gently roasted, stuffed with a minty paste and had given rise to a perfectly pink, juicily wet and a fragile porcelain texture. I’ve had their middle whites with samphires before, and I have come to the conclusion that GQS know to caress their meat with heat. They deliver the most comfortingly sultry sliced pork in town, I think they’ve got it down to an art form. The best part was of couse the fat. Gently so with fluttery buttery flavours. The beans were probably just for amusement. Another winner. I gobbled up all the fatty bits my other fat daren’t ingest.

I’ve waited long enough to try their minute steak once again, £14.

It has a loving roastiness pulsing through the meat. It is deeply marinated, like a churrasco, salty and intense. While I am a proponent of natural flavours, I think pan-fried marinated beef which is well-executed can be an endearing experiencing, and there is no better example than this one. The excellent horseradish cream is amazingly sharp, it hits the nose straight away and balances so well against the umami from the steak. A sweet vinegary watercress salad and a tinge of bitterness completes this dish. I’ve watched the kitchen cook one of these before. I used to love sitting at the bar closest to the kitchen, and I watched them pan-fry and then bake the steak in the oven. They usually serve it bloody, just the way I love it. Anyway, I distinctly remember a much chunkier cut in 2008, the portions may have shrunk a little, but it is as mouth-watering as when I first had it.

The last piece of the puzzle. Pumpkin ice cream, shortbread. £2.80

I’ve tried most of their puddings, the spiked caramel one is pretty good, but not the best. The best are their home brewed ice cream. Dollops of clotted cream must have been used, it is seriously sticky, thick and takes forever to melt. The ice cream has a honeyed sweetness, and the mushy pumpkin bits add an fibrous root-veg component to the milky tastes. I love it. I first fell in love with their strawberries version, chunky bits frozen into the mix, able bodied and genuine. Italians would be proud of this surely. Served in a frozen tumbler and a shortbread, I suspect a single espresso would have been the perfect finish.

Such simple pleasures, such harmonious execution, how could one not love Great Queen Street. Can I be more gushing? Our bill came to just over fifty quid, service at the discretion of the diner. I shook off all the pound coins I had in my pocket. Not quite enough. The décor may be textbook, but the food is far from it. I think they have gotten better over time, perfecting the gastropub concept and churning out food that looks simple on the surface, but which explodes with complexity. Everything goes down smooth. I wrote this review by design of course, I think this is the strongest three course combo you could have at GQS. Avoid their fish if possible, it’s not nearly as exciting as their meat. Did I mention the aromas? Probably since the kitchen is exposed, the smell of roast and freshly fried chips permeates through the room, breathable grease. Highly recommended, if you’ve never been, pick up the phone now.

The Gist of It

32 Great Queen Street, £30pp
32 Great Queen Street Covent Garden, WC2B 5AA
Tel : 020 7242 0622
Tube : Covent Garden
Reviews elsewhere : SusanLovesFood… London ; The Happiness Project London ; London Food Detective ; Laissez Fare ; Food. By Mark

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Hello folks, I am officially back from my month long vacation, trust you have applied yourselves positively while I’ve been away. My yearly visit to the folks is always enlightening if perspective bending though this is the first time in eight years that I went home in time to celebrate Chinese New Year. I’m carrying alot of holiday weight right now, five kilos to be exact, heavy stuff. Astrologists are predicting a gold rush this year and have interpreted the year of the Metal Tiger to be one made of solid gold. Bling. I had originally intended this post to be the closer to my run of unofficial Chinese New Year write-ups and was suppose to coincide with Chap Go Meh – the fifteenth day of the new Lunar year – the same day which also marks the end of the Chinese New year festival… but other more pressing commitments had ensured a five day delay – building websites still doesn’t quite pay the rent. I had spent most of the time travelling between Brunei, Singapore and Taiwan, the latter was where I decided to spend my money. I have good reason to stuff myself silly and I filled my schedule with pit-stops to restaurants which served something representatively local – like a crash course into the native cuisine. It’s all well and good that we have so many restaurants which cater to all sorts of world cuisines, but it occurred to me that London has been the first destination that I have sampled certain international flavours. Something as common as say pizza for example – I can’t say I’ve actually tried a Neapolitan recipe passed down from the ages. This holiday would double as gastronomic adventure and I view it as a way to build my CV in a particular style of cuisine, so that I’ll always have something to compare my London exploits against. And so Kang’s quest to catch a glimpse into the world of Taiwanese cuisine was born. Here are his notes (So weird writing in the third person).

The scene is Taipei. The capital of the island republic, it is situated on the Northern tip of the country and its name unsurprisingly translates to ‘Northern Taiwan’. Home to 2.6 million, it is an emerging ultra modern metropolis of Blade Runner style concrete jungle and it’s skyline proudly accomodates Taipei 101, once the tallest building in the world. Like all cities, there are shades of vintage buildings still lingering underneath all the shiny metal and glass. Old shop houses prop up the neon signs, lighting up the city’s night like a Christmas tree. It’s wonderfully urban, tight street corners just wide enough for cars to pass through and temperamental rainclouds which make London feel like Cyprus. In the belly of the beast lies a diverse range of restaurant, cafés and their famed night markets which play host to hundreds of independent street food vendors making it a sort of foodie’s wet dream. In fact, there is so much diversity in it’s food, a week is simply not enough time to try everything. But I tried anyway. My excursion wouldn’t be as impactful if not for my extended family taking me around the city, so I have the C and C’s to thank for all the recs.

With Londoners experiencing a spike in Sichuan food, I thought it’d be appropriate that our first stop was Chuan Ba Zhe – a Szechuan restaurant that does all-you-can-eat ‘Ma-la’ hotpots for about 8 per head.

The local flavour – Gold Medal Beer. The brew is light and carries a chrysanthemum sweetness about it – very easy drinking stuff. We started with a selection of ‘small dishes’ to share dishes and to start – something which is characteristic of a Taiwanese meal – including Kousiu (Saliva) chicken , Quaiwei (weird taste) vermicelli, Dou gan zhe (bean curd slices) and Mala tripe. As it was a Szechuan restaurant, everything was red in colour, evident of potent sliced chilli everywhere and the tranquilising effect of Szechuan pepper slowly started to grab hold of my tastebuds. Terrifying.

The main highlight of the meal was the all-you-can-eat hotpot, the freeloading aspect in that we could order as much meat or vegetables we wanted to chuck into the soup.

Now, this is properly spicy stuff. The soup was made with szechuan pepper and as I alluded to earlier, doesn’t just burn your tongue and throat, it actually conjures up a strange numbing sensation that firstly starts on the back of your tongue, and if you’re greedy, works it’s way into the back of your throat. I downed several glasses of gold medal beer to put the fire out. Eventually, I couldn’t feel my tastebuds anymore. If you head to Angelis in Kilburn or No.10 in Earls Court, you’ll be able get your hands on a Ma-la hotpot. It’s usually protocol to have a layer of oil floating on top of the soup, it’s suppose to keep the heat in and also to cook whatever you’ve dunked into the soup. I am certain that London restaurants hold back on the peppers – this place didn’t.

Our next visit would take us to the outskirts of Taipei, to the seaside township of Danshui.

We rode the MRT – Taipei’s equivalent of the tube – to Danshui and to the very end of the line. The town is a scenic getaway from the high tech city of Taipei. Here, people rolled around in vespas and flip flops and beyond the bridges, you can watch fishermen barbecueing their triumphs by the beach. Restaurants lined the coast, and as we went on a Sunday, it was as if all of Taipei had descended upon this area. We had trekked all the way here to visit the Black Shop, and to sample the locally celebrated pork chop rice.

A large bowl of their signature pork chop costs two pounds, less if our political system was in better working order. Like all umami infused food – this bowl of rice smelled hearty, rustic and fragrant. Served piping hot, the large flap of chop garnished with bean braised tofu and pickled cabbage that carried a vinegary stink. The rice was glutinous, almost sushi rice (but I daren’t claim it) and the savoury flouriness of the pork chop was unmistakable. There was a thin outer which encapsulated the piece of meat, eggs must have been used and the coating absorbed alot of moisture leading to a juiciness which softened the texture of the pork. The combination of the bean-flavoured tofu, the vinegary pickled cabbage and the soya infused egginess of the porkchop gave way to an exemplary example of umami… I finished two bowls.

The black shop was still entertaining massive queues at 3pm in the afternoon, and this was a huge restaurant spread over two floors – such was the popularity of it’s pork chop rice. While there, it was also an opportunity to give one of Taiwan’s best – if common – small dishes a try : Cold creamy tofu with sweet century egg.

When I say creamy, I mean really creamy. The texture is so consistent, it hardly broke and is akin to the density of say a pannacota. Flavoured with a sweetened soya sauce, the purity of the tofu melds well with the mushy liverness of the preserved duck eggs. The strength of this dish – in my opinion – is dependent on the quality of the tofu. The real deal, everything in London is a mere imitation.

Details

Black Shop Pork Chop rice 黑店排骨飯
8-10, Lane 62, Sec 1, Zhongzheng Road, Danshui.
Tel : 02-28052790
MRT : Danshui

We headed out bright and early the next day so that I could run a few errands while in Taipei. Things are generally cheaper, I had my Seiko Kinetic fixed for just under £40 compared to a whopping £85 minimum if I sent it to Maidenhead. I also had bought a pair of thick black rimmed glasses – Clark Kent style – for a reasonable price…. yes, as if Gary Rhodes would suddenly recognised me attempting to ‘review’ his restaurant, says my ego.

Next stop was for breakfast at a local soya milk shop.

We went to Jiang Jia, not particular special, nor exciting but it was something distinctly local and also open 24 hours a day.

A bowl of salty soya milk made with pickled lettuce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, maldive fish and a tiny splash of soya sauce – definitely a change from the rock sugar syrup of HK style sweet tofufa. My favourite were the glutinous rice roll stuffed with pork floss and pickled radish. I thought it was interesting to have a dough explosion of sorts with a youtiaw – fried dough – stuffed with a chinese style omelette on a sesame crusted bread roll – called a ‘shao bing you tiew jia dan’ or otherwise a chinese breakfast butty perhaps.

I spent alot of time getting lost in the side streets which hid makeshift markets and the occasional street food vendor, photographing this street life proved to be one of the highlights of my visit to Taipei.

All I could see was the romance of the older parts of Taipei, so rustic, raw and human, it was here that I felt the life and the buzz of the real city.

We have now just got off Dingxi station and my other half and decided to take me to one of her old favourite noodle shops. Small, unassuming and humble. There would be nothing high brow about it, but again the attraction was apparent in it’s unpretension, just so real.

And here, I had tasted one of the best spare rib & taro soups to date. The soup was oily, but filled with meaty and stocky flavours – very homely. Like most of the soupy meats I had sampled in Taipei, the spare ribs melted like ice cream.

Finally, our last destination led us to the Golden Formosa, famous for none other than authentic Taiwanese cuisine, and I was assured that it doesnt get more authentic, or local than this.

There are several variations of the ‘White-Cut’ Chicken in the different types of Chinese cuisine, and it so happens to be a local favourite in Taiwan, which claims a variation of their own. It’s a mainstay in Cantonese cooking and is a sort of a national symbol of Singapore cuisine in which it is referred to as Hainanese Chicken

The skin is salty and oily, but the meat is juice heaven and silky smooth. There is rich chicken flavour and a clinical taste on the palate. The chicken bounces with every bite and is just a joy to eat – getting breast meat to soften up is a family secret, and the breast meat at Golden formosa was much like caressing the equivalent assets of a beautifully woman, or…

Ginger tripe with bamboo shoots.

What is aromatic to a Taiwanese person just reeked to my untrained palate. This dish stank of bamboo shoots and vinegar, the tripe added to the soured livery flavours of this dish. It was a difficult mouthful for me, not my cup of tea this one, but about as Taiwanese as it could get.

Scallop and Oyster Pancake was up next.

I think the thick gravy – slimy and very fishy – was probably made from the juices scallop and the oyster. It was like a runny pizza with a dough that absorbed too much moisture. Very potent, I could only have a slice before the fishiness became overwhelming.

Finally, deep fried spare ribs.

This one I really enjoyed – one of the most memorable dishes from my trip. Crunchy popcorn like exterior, bubbly crispiness and a peppery hit with a worschester sauce tang. I am certain that there was curry powder in the mixture and which which really gave ribs a spice of life. The meat still juicy on the inside but the distinct sour and spicy crackle on the outside.

Details

Golden Formosa 金蓬萊
101 TianMu East Road, Taipei
Tel: 02-28711517
MRT: Zhishan

So that was my trip to Taipei. The most memorable meal has got to be the Pork Chop rice – simple food, but oh so good. In addition to this, I wrote up on one of Taiwan’s greatest treasure – Beef noodle soup at three of Taipei’s most respected Beef noodle houses. Alright, well a belated happy new year of the Tiger folks, hope you enjoyed my adventures away from home. I think it’s about time I got back to writing up about London again. See you monday.

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So far, the favourite cuisine (s) are tied with Italian and Japanese both with 8 votes each. The next favourites are Spanish, Chinese, Indian & mediterranean each with 4 votes. French & Brit (Yeah!) food get 3 votes , Thai with 2 and German, Korean & Vietnamese all with 1 vote. 3 of you said ‘none’ and I suspect it has alot to do with the ommission of Mexican from the list ……….

………so that’s why I’ve decided to add Mexican to the polls!

It is very refreshing to see that no one chose fast food as their favourite, the allegations of a modern society in love with nasty foods – according to my completely unofficial poll- is so far unfounded.

As I’ve said, I’m keeping the polls open indefinitely ( so please vote ! ) and it’ll be interesting to see if a new favourite cuisine emerges. For now , there is a 34% chance that you are craving either Italian or Japanese food.

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