Consider this as the side project. An epilogue of a visionary concept. A retelling of a story told from another point of view. The breakfast room for hotel guests. Yes, The Corner Room is the child of Nuno Mendes’ Viajante, both nestled within the zen like confines of the uber cool Townhall hotel in uber edgy Bethnal Green on the East end. A spin-off, an overflow room for those who don’t like the idea of advanced reservations at the ultra fantastic temple of modernist gastronomy downstairs.

Perhaps the best part of it all, is how low-key The Corner Room has been kept. There is no weblink or phone and therefore takes no reservations and is totally egalitarian, if you can find it.

You’ll have to go through the main hotel reception, instead of the reception to Viajante to find the easily find The Corner Room. If you take the latter route (which we did), you’ll be taken through the guts of the hotel, maze your way through the immaculate designs and occasionally peek into the beautifully designed rooms as they are being kept. The Townhall hotel is a marvelous hotel. It’s a work of wonder. It’s understated and because of this, it probably makes cooler than staying at say The Renaissance, whose goth granduer is a little bit of a overwhelming monstrosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poached eggs with chorizo and paprika potatoes, £8.

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

Pork loin & Portuguese bread pudding, £12.

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

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

Mackerel with celeriac & bacon, £6.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Gist of It

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

In this coner: Euan Ferguson for TO

Did you enjoy reading this? You can subscribe to the Newsletter. Alternatively, you cansubscribe to the RSS feed.

What it must feel like to be Yotam Ottolenghi. Author of two likeable, innovative cook books; Owner of a string of likeable, innovative takeaway/café/restaurants, and the custodian of a weekly vegetarian column in Guardian. And women just love his food.

There is something extremely likeable about the brand Yotam has created for himself. It’s like everything you imagined organic food – healthy, delicious and expensive – to be. There are four Ottolenghis’ dotted around London, and quite a startling 15 years or so it has been for the native Israeli philosophy major. In 1998, he who had come to Cordon Bleu in London to study food before going on to solidify his pastry experience in The Capital, The Kensington Place group (with Rowley Leigh) and then become head pastry man at Baker and Spice (which I believe is somehow tied to the origin of Gail’s). Eventually in 2002, he opened his first Ottolenghi and the rest is history, as they say.

It has been a poster-child kind of success story, therefore the recent opening of his latest venture, Nopi (for North of Picaddily (circus)) is expected to be a high profile – amongst the obsessive gluttons – production that should have industry onlookers salivating with undulated respect.

On the surface, Nopi looks like the latest and greatest Soho-based, egalitarian and super hip all-day diner, though this could not be further from the truth. This is not Polpo 2011, ladies, this is something a lot more precise, better choreographed, a slicker operation; equating to a ridiculously pricy menu.

Naturally, it’s already submerged in overbooked sessions, being that it has only been opened for less than a month. There was no chance in grabbing a table for a late Saturday lunch, so instead I just showed up at 15 minutes before lunch service was planned to stop, to see if I could snatch a small corner table for some solo dining. I did much better, as they placed me at the bar. Décor is kept as elegantly as humanly possible, furnished to a brass and crème finish. The room is a long and narrow rectangle, and it feels rather like eating in a well-dressed and permanent marquee.

Staff are chillaxed and all smiles, the restaurant has a generally laid-back attitude about it, which is rather modern of them. They appear to carbonate their water, and the choice of still or sparkling is on the house.

The ambiance is something Alan Yau would be proud of, understated slickness, all the small touches you expect restaurants to get right, they have got right.

Everything came with a smile.

Kingfish carpaccio, curry powder, lemon oil, shiso, samphire £10

The luxury thick cut carpaccio, the densely buttery texture that melted accordingly, not unlike a Tsar cut of salmon. Crusted with curry powder and then drizzled with lemon oil that set off an ear-ringing zestful charge of citrus. The shiso and samphire was ample for decorative purposes, I think. This was a small platter of glorified sashimi, executed in splendid fashion. It was hard to fault it, in fact I loved it, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that this could well have been done before, such as say the Nobu new-style – wet, drizzly and zesty – sashimi. Is this really worth a tenner?

Twice-cooked baby chicken, lemon myrtle salt, red pepper sauce, £10

Next up was the first broth-boiled, then grilled, twice cooked baby chicken. Sweating with lovely chicken-stock juices. The sweet chilli mix it came it was very good, the chicken itself was reminiscent of soya chicken, redolent of chilli, broth, ginger and spring onion. But again, I couldn’t help but experience another bout of deja vu, that this apparently innovative recipe had been done before elsewhere, and in this scenario, a Chinese soya chicken rice recipe. It is not better than Uncle Lim’s Hainanese chicken rice recipe in my humble opinion, and I am mindful of the fact that Nopi fuses Medi and Asian recipes, but I find myself asking the obvious question : Is any single chicken wing and half a thigh really worth ten pounds?

It didn’t even come with a small bowl of stock infused rice.

Slow cooked pig cheek, celeriac and barberry salad, £10

By the time the third dish landed, I was sold on the fact that this kitchen could cook anything. Everything was delicious, like this buttery tender, superior slow cooked cheek that easily put the Brindisa version to shame. It was intense. Served with an extremely citrusy shaved celeriac salad, which for some reason, failed to equalise in flavour, and was palate piercing instead. Luckily the sourdough was fantastic, and helped to soak up and dilute the strong flavours. It carried a subtle bitterness, as if it was made with tea leaves.

Baked lamb belly, mixed mushrooms, sumac, £12

The procession of savoury hits reached a summit with this dish. I loved every bit of this highlight of muscular on muscular flavours. Sitting on a bed of yoghurt (or crème fraiche), the soured cream took the edge of the intensity of the mushrooms, for the gloopy texture of the cream against the mushy fried ‘shrooms, I felt it created a very stylish texture. The rolled lamb belly was expectedly pungent, but in this tirade of strong flavours, it was not overpowering, rather it was just succinct.

Pineapple galette, pandan, coconut ice cream £7.5

The smell of sweet, hot, burnt, sugar over hot, sweaty and burning pineapple. The winner was the exceptionally thin crust, the pineapple slices sat on, producing just the slightest crisp. The clotty and dense coconut ice cream was regal. Thicker than any gelato than I had ever eaten. This was an ace pudding. It wiped away all the previous strong flavours and left me with a cooling sensation.

The meal was fabulous. I could not fault it for the cooking and for its sheer likeability factor; I believe it is poised to be overbooked for many a cold night in the months ahead. However, I just cannot shake the feeling that they have pumped so much hard work in dazzling clientele that they have managed to fool everybody with their pricing. Plus a double espresso and five small plates of food, the bill was a whopping £58.50 – one hugely expensive all-day diner.

Granted for those who flooded the restaurant during the 50% soft opening, may have glossed over the bottom line after a couple of glasses (I would have too), but I just can’t see myself choosing Nopi over Polpo or even Polpetto, since the concept of sharing platters are so similar; save for that the latter restaurants are so much cheaper, and are more generous in terms of portions. On the otherhand, the food at Nopi is tastier, the recipes are better, and the atmosphere isn’t so rowdy.

Contrary to what the menu says the small plates are designed for (sharing), I don’t think they came out as intended. Portions are laughably tiny, even for one, let alone to be shared. Take the chicken wing for example, surely the most expensive chicken wing in London. If they were truly for sharing, I believe they needn’t suggest a recommended three savouries per person.

Nopi feels like a resurrected Maze (remember that?), another restaurant that has a menu built around the idea of sampling alot of successive small dishes. I feel that the Nopi portions are not big enough to be shared, but that they are just adequate for one person wanting to taste abit of everything. I had five dishes by myself, and I don’t think I would have enjoyed splitting those dishes with anybody else. The dishes did not seem scoop-able or partition-able, it might work for a couple but certainly not divisible for more than that.

The good news is that the cooking is just amazing. At least based on this one visit. Everything rolled out of the kitchen with panache, zest, passion and sheer umami.

In the end, I found Nopi not to be groundbreaking, rather I thought it was refreshing. The recipes are recognisable and are not alien to our palate. They are however, slickly repackaged, and exceptionally cooked. Fusion can swing a lot of ways if done incorrectly, but I think Nopi has got it under contol, and got the recipes just right. I think Nopi is what Kopapa should have been.

It brings the same rebooted feeling that Viajante has brought to the blurred fantasy of one global cuisine. If Viajante is esoteric folksy jazz, then Nopi is mainstream, bubblegum pop. Because of the menu’s apparent liberal nature, I believe it can only evolve to become better, as the chefs get bored with/refine their recipes. And as the loyal patrons, we have reason to keep coming back for more I suppose.

A great start, that comes with a hefty price. For now, I shall be happy to pay the price, but it probably won’t be long before they introduce some kind of set lunch menu. Lest it becomes a deterrent in light of the fact that there are so many nice things to eat in the city, for a lot less money.

The Gist of It

Nopi
Fusion, Medi-Asian and expensive. £50pp
21-22 Warwick Street W1B 5NE
Tel : +44 (0)20 7494 9584
Tube: Picaddily Circus

Soopi : TO , Wennie’s Affairs , What Katie Does, Tofufa , The Bountiful Plate ; The Skinny Bib , Winkypedia

Did you enjoy reading this? You can subscribe to the Newsletter. Alternatively, you cansubscribe to the RSS feed.

Camden doesn’t lack restaurants in number, it’s just most aren’t worth the detour. But things are changing. On the surface, one wouldn’t think this bar-café located at a gig venue – serving the purpose of tanking up visitors before any given performance – should suffer the unfortunate scrutiny of a blogger’s dour thoughts. However, after reading the Guy’s glowing review, which had cast the Roundhouse’s little known cafe as the most excellent over-performing underdog, I booked a table for a weekend lunch on Open Table. Off I trotted, on the route 31 toward Camden town.

As I entered the semi elliptical room, that followed the contours of the Roundhouse, I couldn’t shake the feeling as if I had walked into a university café, a waiting room ambiance, a departure lounge. At first, I was puzzled with how short the menu seemed. Baked eggs, spicy tomato with yoghurt. Pancakes with blueberry, American style with maple syrup. Grilled banana and chocolate bread. Fried egg, sweet spiced chickpeas, labneh, pangrattato and coriander. Not that it didn’t sound good, but I was actually after the creative, extended small plates menu. Which was not available for lunch over weekends.

Can’t say I wasn’t a little bummed. I had my eye on such beautifully described dishes such as the Jerusalem artichokes, walnut and gorgonzola agresto, slow-roasted tomatoes. Lamb, prune and walnut koftas, pearl barley tabbouleh and green tahini. Momofuku pork Chinese bun, scallion, cucumber. The last is a David Chang recipe.

One might wonder about where all this urban fusion fare stems from; perhaps the chef is a former protege of Peter Gordon’s, but that would be too obvious. Instead, Chef Josh Katz was reportedly part of the Ottolenghi empire (back in the spotlight this year with Nopi), which explains the Mediterranean influence, and winded menu items.

Josh and interior designer Michael Sodeau are both men on a motivating mission. Both are North Londoners, they have turned this little project into an ambitious statement of intent to bring pack a seriously well-priced, yet refreshing menu to the area. Local produce seems to be at the heart of their operation. Fruit and veg are supplied by First Choice in New Covent Garden, fish from (the super pricy) James Knight mongers, Flour station for the dough and meat comes from Islington family butcher, Frank Godfrey.

Brunch. I get it now. This reduced menu is for the lazy late waking weekend wanderer.

Brunch

Pan-fried mackerel, grilled sourdough, blackened tomato passata, harissa mayonnaise, £8.50.

As this dish landed over on the better half’s side, we were both struck by how appetising it looked. Fresh and vibrant, it tasted even better, which was a wonderful surprise. A spicy, feisty salsa-like whipped sauce, dare I say, like a red guac, that went beautifully with the fishy mackerel. Ah, it must be the harissa, the Tunisian chilli paste, that also I believe, is a crucial ingredient in a bouillabaisse. The fish was warm, the bread was warmer, and crunchy, it was gorgeously hearty.

Wasabi apple coleslaw and Pearl barley tabbouleh, £2 each.

These two side dishes were comfort food supreme. The barley, rock salted, well oiled and cucumber gave way to a reminder that this sort of food was born along the coast and under the sun. The apple coleslaw was a refreshing change, swapping the gooey crunch of cabbage, for the fresh zest of shredded apples.

Seared steak sandwich, horseradish cream & balsamic red onion, £ 8.50

I strongly suspect they have used an onglet. Perhaps because of the way the meat curled when sliced, perhaps because they have chosen to cook this on the better side of medium rare, but also perhaps because it was both tender and chewy and oozed charry flavours all at the same time.

But mostly because grilled onglet is an item on the dinner menu too.

Lots of places struggle to get a steak sandwich right, let alone one done as well as this. Whole grilled onions, softly acidic, a subtle bite to the horseradish sauce, radiant and the entire dish is sweet, vinegary and toasty.

Along with a great cut, I felt it was creative and budget conscious. I felt that Josh is the sort of chef who knows how to squeeze the potential out of the available ingredients he has to work with. The only downside are those rather dull raw greens on the side, which were the only reminder that this was a modest café at a gig venue.

Grilled banana and chocolate bread, butter, £5.

Fragrant banana bread with swirls of melting chocolate, grilled to a warm, toasty, crunchy crisp and then smothered in creamy, melting, whipped butter. The crunchy crusts were the best bits. This was ridiculously wow. It transposed me to five year old me and reminded me of the sheer joy of a child’s obsession with sweet things.

After we finished, I peeked at what other tables were having, and wished I had a dump valve on my stomach, or perhaps an extra stomach. Everything else looked delicious, especially the eggs. If you were a Providores breakfast lover, you may like the sound of this too:

Baked eggs, spicy tomato sauce and lemon yoghurt/chorizo – £ 8/ £ 9
Two fried, scrambled or poached eggs and toast with;
- Grilled pancetta and slow roasted tomatoes – £ 7.50
- Grilled chorizo, red onion and feta – £ 8.50
Fried egg, sweet spiced chickpeas, labneh and coriander – £8.50

We finished with two coffees, the mocha in particular was really good, smoother and richer than the Tapped and Packed hot chocolate. All in all, for £33.30, it was great value for money.

I was so impressed that I decided to return for dinner a few hours later to try the full menu.

Dinner

Expectedly, during dinner, Made in Camden was the natural meet-up point for people waiting for their show to start.

Miso-marinated chicken wings, sesame seeds, jalapeno and grilled spring onion, £5.

Buttery wings with sprinkles of sesame and the taste of burnt miso. Mmmm, as good as the crispy wings from the local pizza takeaway, a compliment, with a kick of jalopeno.

Crisp sea bass, tahini, oregano, orange, sharon fruit, pine nuts, £9

The tahini was very nice and very light. Spring-time flavours of pinenuts and diced orange, gave it the Mediterranean feel. Fish was beautifully cooked, flaky and silky, sweet and savoury, the orange was the stand out ingredient here, it was redolent of orange cream popsicles.

Momofuku pork Chinese bun, scallion, cucumber, £5.

And finally, the momofoku recipe. Not unlike a Taiwanese pork pocket, sans the peanuts, and I thought this was quite well done. The bun was soft, sticky and sweet, and the pork was slithery, juicy and slow-cooked tender. Sweet bbq flavours, with fluttering fatty bits that brought extra flavour, and cucumbers for balance. It was good. I could easily have had two.

Earl grey brulee, prune puree, shortbread, £5.50.

For dessert, I chose the tea brulee. The brulee tasted like a melting earl grey ice cream, made with clotted cream, or perhaps even a concentrated, congealed cream tea, made into an egg-based custard. The prune paste was tremendous on its own.

I finished with a mocha, had a glass of Grenache and all in all was very satisfied with the bill, £34.43 plus service. Tremendous value for money.

A nod to the power of the local. This could serve as an example of what the standard of everyday, modern day urban city cafes could be about. It’s not expensive, it is not shackled by the long yawn of fine dining, it’s just delicious, hearty food , fit for nearly all ages. Imagine a future where every museum, local theatre, community leisure centre, and junior common room served to this standard.

I think Josh Katz is a brilliant chef. He has created an attractive menu, based on solid and varied recipes that make good use of allowing the quality of produce, to shine through.

I’m sure Josh will move to a bigger production someday, but until then, I’m glad I am able to jump on the route 31 on a wet and windy Saturday morning to tuck away his soul food and hot mocha, while watching the latest episode of glee on my iPad, over the free – and fast – wifi.

The Gist of It

Made in Camden
Fusion, brunch, cafe, bar and free wifi. £20pp
Chalk Farm Road NW1 8EH
Tel : 020 7424 8495
Tube: Chalkfarm

More photos on myflickr page.

Sound-Off : TO ; Londonist ; Foodepedia ; Islington Tribune

Did you enjoy reading this? You can subscribe to the Newsletter. Alternatively, you cansubscribe to the RSS feed.

Rarely do you come across new openings with a breezier philosophy than Kopapa. The website describes a modest and friendly outlook, also evident from the moment I picked up the phone to book a table, to the eventual visit. Pitched as a cafe & restaurant, this is Peter Gordon’s latest project in London; The New Zealander chef, widely respected as the one true genius of fusion cuisine. His double storied Providores & Tapa Room – high end restaurant upstairs, all day diner/cafe downstairs, based in Marylebone High Street – is a stunner. Especially for breakfast. While I’m not the biggest fan of his adaptation of Changa’s Turkish eggs recipe (poached, yoghurt and hot chilli butter over it), the rest of the breakfast menu – in my opinion – is award winning stuff, for its sheer variety and edibility. So now that he has expanded his operations to an even more central location, it was only natural for critics and blogs to follow his development closely.

When I saw a copy of the menu, I was only too happy to see that he had brought over the grazing mentality with him to his new all day diner. The menu is filled with reasonably priced sharing plates, platters, hot soup and larger fish & meat dishes, if one should be so obliged. If you’ve never seen a Peter Gordon menu, be prepared to be overwhelmed with the sheer diversity of his recipes. For example : Three styles of New Zealand Kaipara Harbour oysters; miso gazpacho, wasabi cucumber & sake broth; Smoked magret duck breast, goats curd, beetroot confit & pickled pineapple ; Red lentil, beetroot & pomegranate molasses soup with crème frâiche & Manouri cheese wonton. It’s as though he took all his recipe books, curated from the years of travelling around Asia, tore out pages randomly, reshuffled and recompiled into the master Kopapa book of recipe book. A melange of a food menu.

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

Grilled Pita with babaganoush & olives, £3.00.

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

Coconut sticky pork ribs, £6.20.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The mains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Gist of It

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

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

Did you enjoy reading this? You can subscribe to the Newsletter. Alternatively, you cansubscribe to the RSS feed.

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.

The first thing I noticed about Terry was his passion for cooking. He spends fourteen hours a day at his cafe and as the chef proprietor, he not only does all the cooking himself, but also manages the cafes finances as well as the logistics of produce. Save for a couple of waitresses, Tez Amore is pretty much a one man show.

“Gordon Ramsay’s food always looks so nice on TV, what does it tastes like?” His eyes trained on me but I decided to tell him that Ramsay’s cuisine wasn’t as respected as it once was, instead I directed the conversation toward a more contemporary figure of London gastronomy – Bjorn van der Horst. He loves food and I could tell as it beamed out from his decidedly upbeat character. I sat with him for a session on his only day off during the week – Wednesday – to chat about this behind the stove thing I wanted to do with him.

“So you must be busy these days” I said. “Well, I’ve become a blur at home, when you see me, I’ll have gone [to work at the cafe]“. His culinary awakening began while he was pursuing his tertiary education, initially his interests were business and law, but he was lured by the grandeur and spectacle of the illustrious career of a chef, in particular he was enamored with his house-mother’s brother who runs a kitchen in a Hilton in Adelaide. With a clear idea of where he’d like to steer his future, he applied to the Adelaide TAFE commercial cookery courses and then to the Regency cookery school specialising in pastry. The real world then beckoned, and Terry assisted various kitchens with assignments as a pastry guy as well as a baker. As with all independent setups, funding was always going to be a challenge, but with the little he had, he used it to put together an efficient space, simple yet cosy, in his words, almost like a home. In the background, he had a cookery channel on TV and in between our conversation, his attention would suddenly switch to the TV as he sees some new idea he could bring to his cafe. He tells me that his favourite is seafood, though his true passion is in the puddings. An admirer of regimental haute cuisine, refined elegance was something he aspired to in his work, “It has to be beautiful”. In a small town like Kuala Belait, starting up a revolution as it were isn’t exactly simple, the scale of economies are also several magnitudes smaller compared to say, London, afterall the population of KB is only about 40,000. The upshot of a quieter locale is that chef owners are closer, much closer to their customer base – something which is characteristic of eateries in Brunei – the personal touch.

Terry opens shop at 9am everyday, he dons his slick black and red chef gear, and armed with a smile says to me that he was going start his Thursday prepping a few of his favourite desserts for me to photograph.

Here he is holding a huge tub of Monin chocolate syrup – the chocolate he uses in his puds and his hot chocolate, an ingredient in his dark chocolate orange creme brulee.

Here he’s browning the demerara sugar top crust, I come very close to the action, very close because Terry was a little camera shy, so instead of shooting him, I started with the details. As the sugar caramalises, the kitchen starts filling with the aromas of a warm pud….ohh, can’t wait to dig in.

His recipe is quite authentic and the subtle hues of orange flavour stays on the back of my tongue. The custard is cold , while it’s a little grainy, the hallmark eggy sweetness is present making it a pretty juicy spoonful. I prefer his original creme brulee recipe, though his brulees also come in green tea flavours – something which is popular in Asia, but hasn’t quite picked up in the UK as yet…soon I suppose.

Brunei is a really sunny country, like seriously sunny and so the light is perfect for illuminating portraits. No strobes involved, this is all natural light, 100% at-the-edge-of-the-equator sunshine – great for some on location glamour shots. I finally got Terry to pose for me, he was still a little nervy but I think this shot came out rather well. I think he looks abit like a Hong Kong film star, Nicholas Tse… what do you think?

Here’s another of his creations – this is his Oreo cheesecake. It’s one of his ‘remixed’ recipes, the usual biscuit base is broken down and then mixed in with the rest of the cake, served with a dollop of vannila ice cream. He asked me if I thought the decorative chocolate syrup was a little OTT, I said I thought it was pretty cool.

This one I really enjoyed. He was very excited when he told me about his ‘on the spot’ tiramisu, which I would describe as a sort of reverse Tiramisu. On the spot, since he makes it to order. Made in a short glass tumbler, I was surprised to find the thing was warm. The mascapone cheese made with a white chocolate sauce all of which sits on top is cold, the middle has the sponge biscuits absorbing much of the espresso, and the last third of the glass is warm coffee. I think this was his piece de resistance, as the contrast between the cold and the hot gave way to a rather interesting way of having tiramisu, albeit a kind of deconstructed version and in the place of heavy cream, was a light coffee dessert. It felt as if I was having an espresso, and a latte and a pudding all at the same time, quite an interesting experience.

One of the best things about growing up in a small town is that you have friends for life, there is a kind of innocent charm where the neighbours are all friendly. The cafe is quite obviously geared toward fostering this kind of atmosphere.

In a way, I really admired the rather humble setting, furnishings are done on a tight budget, but it lends itself to a personal charm and character – to me, I feel that this was the beauty of the independent sole proprietor. I should say, soul proprietor. There wasn’t anything pretentious about the decor, it was cosy and I could freely let my hair down.

Time to go behind the stove.

I would describe the kitchen as being very homey. It’s not very big and he’s still in the process of acquiring professional ovens, it’s clean and but large enough to have about three people squeeze past.

I told Terry and his staff to pretend I was invisible, blending into the background isn’t always very easy with a camera as large as my D700.

Terry works fast, spirited and he is a jovial chap. If you hadn’t noticed, he works in the kitchen alone and manages all the cooking. Obviously, his two waitresses will pitch in every now and again, but mainly the kitchen is really a one man show. I’ve photographed many kitchens in the last couple of years, and every successfully run kitchen has a sort of heartbeat which jives to the rhythm of the restaurant. The more customers, the lively and more spirited the kitchen becomes. It’s a kind of organised chaos you know, full of life – this is the reason I love doing these behind the stove write-ups, the life and soul of a kitchen is inimitable, and one of the few work places which makes one feel so alive and so human.

Terry is only just putting the finishing touches to his Parmesan Chicken and Chips – its another one of his inventions. Again, like his puddings, his chicken is also ‘on the spot’ and made to order. He starts with pounding his chicken to tenderize it, before laying on his secret seasoning and then pan frying it. He finishes off his parmersan chicken with a creamy garlic gravy.

It’s a seemingly efficient dish as the robust sauce was a punchy knock on my palette. I’m more of a french fries sort of guy, though I can deal with the crinkly too. Mainly though, I really appreciated the hearty rustic sizzle this dish exhibited – simple, tasty, unpretentious and refreshing. I said to Terry that he really should bring abit of Asia influence into the mix, I recounted the story of one of my long time local favourites in the nineties, and my mum and I used to order take out at this place alot – KB restaurant. The food was in a similar vein, a kind of Italian inspired cuisine, but instead of chips, they complimented their meats with butter steamed rice with a hint of garlic. Something which I hope will makes its way into Tez’s menu. Before I forget, he’s a health nut too and so his cafe serves these healthy fruit smoothie drinks. He made me a low fat apple yoghurt smoothie kind of drinks to go with the chicken – refreshing.

As I write this, we are closing in on the 1st day of Chinese New Year. Terry is opening his restaurant for dinner service since it coincides with Valentines Day. He briefly told me about his rosemary roast chicken and heart shaped butter breads which he is planning for, though he hadn’t revealed the specifics as yet. He does have a facebook page to keep his patrons updated with current progress.

As my 48 hours with Terry came to close, I noticed how happy he was to be in the kitchen, for me, it was fulfilling watching a young’un take up the challenge of trying to make it in the world of food. “There is a big difference between $3.80 and $3.50 for a tub of ice cream” he tells me. “That’s 30 cents per tub, or $3 for ten tubs, $30 dollars for a hundred, the different between breaking even and risk running a huge loss”. The restaurant business then is a precarious one to get into – which is why it’s a labour of love. As with most of my kitchen assignments, I came out feeling rewarded and I only have the utter most respect for independent kitchens, this is where the human story really stimulates me and something which I hope you find exciting and entertaining as well.

Finally, Terry’s nickname while he was in Adelaide was Tez. He had wanted his cafe to be named the ‘Chocolatier’ or ‘Amore Cafe’ instead the authorities decided to merge his names when he was registering his business. And so Tez Amore translates to Terry’s Love, or perhaps more accurately, Terry’s passion.

Hope you enjoyed this little photo essay folks, I’m still roaming the lands in South East Asia, I will continue to bring you back stories whenever I come across something interesting. I’ll drop in on you again to say a few words on Chinese New Year… and also for Valentines.

PS: You can see the entire set of photographs on my flickr account.

The Gist of It

Tez Amore Cafe Facebook fanpage BND15 pp
Lot 8501 Unit 20 Wisma Yakin
Kuala Belait, Brunei
Tel: +673 8738583
Email: tezamore@hotmail.com

Did you enjoy reading this post? Why not subscribe to my feed updates for free. Alternatively, You can subscribe via email.

Forty five minutes after exiting Temple tube station, I am still wandering around the area. I could have sworn I have walked past Buddha bar before – which faces the river – but for the life of me, all I can see is a Walkabout. Defying pride, I finally make the call to the restaurant for directions; they tell me I need to keep walking right, and then some.

Ah, there it is, under a bridge.

At first I thought the PR bods were sending me to a cocktail bar for a round of drinks, even Buddha Bar’s website suggests a sort of lounge with a kitchen attached to it. My assumptions were only solidified upon entry – Loud, dark, body hugging waitress outfits and a cloakroom. The reception area is very cosy, probably suggesting an equally cosy restaurant.

And then I see this guy:

The music got louder and louder as I passed through to the dining area – everything I had thought Buddha bar was, well it wasn’t. The high ceilings looked at least a couple of storeys high, and it was dominated by a huge golden Buddha washed in dim blue and red light. My eyes continually scanned the room, it looked like as if the tea house stage built for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon had been converted into a club with the dance floor populated by tables. As my senses became saturated with the setting, I let out a silent ‘wow’, this place looks amazing.

For such a huge restaurant, they sure skimmed on the furniture and fittings. The tables were ridiculously small as it seemed to only just fit two menus. Flipping through it, I could barely see a thing. The light was terrible, so bad that the waitresses carried around mini torch lights while they navigated the dark like ushers in a cinema. Some diners were handed these mini torch lights, while I illuminated mine with an iPhone. I enjoyed the chill-out tracks oozing out from the ultra bass speakers but when I have to shout at my partner when ordering, that’s not usually a good sign for a restaurant. Our waitress brings around a bowl of edamame beans seasoned in salt and chilli – not bad. I ask for some water – leaning over – she still can’t hear me. Sigh, I shout louder. At this point, I can’t seem to take Buddha Bar seriously as a restaurant, the ambiance was becoming a distraction, and I couldn’t concentrate on my appetite, at all. In my mind, it’s still a cocktail lounge with a kitchen attached to it. Speaking of food, the menu is just about as confusing. They describe themselves as serving ‘Pan-Asian’ cuisine, which translates to sushi for starters and Thai for mains. Glancing at the menu prices which I could see, I was squinting to read it again as the prices seemed a little exorbitant.

The taster menu was available for £65 per person – equivalent to Michelin prices. I get the feeling that food is meant to be shared, everything is doubly pricy. Anyway, the sushi menu looked quite so formidable with a wide selection of traditional nigiris and sashimis, as well as a small selection of sushi rolls. Nothing in the hot starters section caught my eye, and so our meal began with a sushi selection.

The waitress seemed very proud of the toro (Belly tuna, the top of the list of sushi, and the most expensive at £4.50 per piece), she exclaimed that it was an item rarely available as their chefs only serve it when they get stock that was of high enough quality. I asked for two, she strongly recommended six and we settled with four. Accompanying the toro were turbot, unagi, seared lobster and wasabi tempura prawn roll. I also ordered scallop which never came and I believe that was drowned out by the music. As this meal was free, I didn’t really want to take the mickey and order too much. The sushi is terribly pricy, this platter had already clocked in at nearly £45.

I started with the wasabi prawns – not bad at all, a creamy wasabi mayo, the tempura was a powdery crunch and the rice had good stickiness. My mouth was beginning to water. Next up, the prized toro …. Ok, wow. It was surprisingly amazing. It disintegrated in my mouth, the quality of the fish was superb, oily, fatty, odourless; the toro was an absolute beauty that was cut to perfection. The rest of the platter gave the similar melt in your mouthness, the unagi was loaded with sweet soya flavours, the turbot was another smooth silk layered on rice and the seared lobster roll required eyebrows to be raised. I found myself nodding along, I almost don’t want to admit it, partly because I didn’t expect food to taste half as good, but also partly because I couldn’t see what I was eating; but dude….. that was one of the best sushi platters I’ve ever had in London. One expensive sushi platter, if for some reason my conscience hadn’t kicked in, I probably would have ordered eight more pieces of toro.

After the startlingly good sushi, I was really looking forward to what they could achieve with the cooking. Service was a little slow, we waited about half an hour before the food started showing up. Mains were roast black cod in sweet miso (£23.50), Beef fillet teppanyaki (£30) and crispy baby squid (£11) accompanied by egg fried rice and rice noodles.

Let’s start with the squid – yeah it wasn’t too bad, a little heavy on the salt, but overall good crispiness and flavour. The fillet of beef was so-so. Overpriced, overcooked and mushy. It came with an under fermented kimchi, there’s abit of mango flavour in the sweet sauce as well, where I expected sizzling smokiness (as it was advertised as a teppanyaki), I was greeted with a uninspired pan-fried dish. Ordinary at best. The black cod miso (£23.50) is a little cheaper than the Nobu original (£28). It looks nearly identical save for the drops of sweet miso on the side. Yeah, initial impressions exhibited the signature melt in your mouth flakiness with the deep miso flavours, grainy texture with just the hint of acidity. The fish was cooked well – just a tad under – I could still taste the fatty bits so that’s good. Its missing abit of the magic, a good imitation but an imitation nonetheless. Not as clinical as the original, the sauce is over smothered in my opinion, a tad too sweet, too intense and I think the fish needs abit more broiling. Close but no cigar. The side dishes were the dark horse – the egg fried rice was full flavoured and came with delicious large shrimps (lots of them) and the rice noodles were bouncilicious. The noodles were so consistent that the strands were impossibly long and hard to break – a good sign.

Um, yeah so just when I was about to take Buddha Bar seriously, the main courses let me down abit. Don’t get me wrong though, the mains actually tasted ok, there were no missteps or basic errors, fish tasted like fish and so forth, but it wasn’t anything spectacular, unlike the sushi. Although, I’ll note that the portions were deceptively large, we failed to finish everything on the table. On the whole, being mindful of how expensive this meal could be, I thought it was above average.

With food finally out of the way, I began to take in the rest of the unorthodox ambiance, its like a club where people are boogieing sitting down. I realised that the price premium wasn’t for the food, but it was most definitely for everything else. Buddha Bar is a swanky place to celebrate a special occasion, or more appropriately, it’s the swanky place to wow your first date. The darkness, loud chillout music and matrix-like atmosphere is the perfect distraction to hide first date jitters. Food is passable albeit overpriced; I would recommend sticking to working up the liquid courage and the sushi for food. Embrace the suggestive energy, feel free to be somebody else and really just have a blast. Inside Buddha Bar, everyone is leaning over to whisper something, and if you want to make that move, all I’m saying is that the stage is already set and you should lean over and make that move.

PS: Full set of photographs can be seen on flickr.

The Gist of It

Buddha Bar official site
£80 per person plus drinks
8 Victoria Embankment
WC2R 2AB
Tel: 020 3371 7777
Tube: Temple (and keep walking right till you see the bridge)

Did you enjoy reading this post? Why not subscribe to my feed updates for free. Alternatively, You can subscribe via email.

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.

Gravity.

The street in question is a detour from charing cross road, a limboland which is quite literally at the crossroad of the surrounding clichés of oxford street and Leicester square against the contrast of the urban circus that is Soho. Aside from some great independent bookstores, and atmospheric (dusty) guitar shops; Denmark street is also home to an unassuming dining room which has such a black exterior that one could easily mistake Giaconda for another crazy cool guitar shop. Something about low profile joints attracts me. Maybe it’s because the ambiance is firmly rooted in reality; perhaps its could be the romantic underdog status what with it being a million miles away from the grandeur of multi stakeholder Michelin joints employing far too many hands who may perfect the broth, but spoil the mood. Apollo was a beast, but Balboa had heart, and you can pound and pound and pound and its heartbreaking to watch, but god it’s beautiful. By their own proclaimation “We aren’t flashy or grand – and that suits us just fine! “ and yes, it suits me perfectly as well.

Give me Dinings. Give me Baracco. Give me Mandalay. I would gladly choose them over the harsh lights shining on pristine cream walls. Giaconda is one that beats with soul, the room is so small, your neighbours are practically breathing down your neck, and the simple wooden tables are only just adequate, but that’s why I love it.

I don’t need no doctor.

A fantasy. I’ve been wanting to fire off the champagne supernova riff on a custom Les Paul with a delay postbox hoping to emulate those great vintage shots of Noel in a oversized raincoat and his union jack Epiphone. Special people never change dude.

Dish Uno is Boneless (almost!) & Crisped Pigs Trotters; Eggs Mayonnaise (£7.00). The starters menu largely feature pretention free titles such as Roast Mushrooms with Garlic Puree; Herbs & Butter or Baked Eggs with Spinach, Cream & Cheese and the prices are equally laidback.

How many of you are wine junkies who watch the Daily Thunder show? If you know the show (you vayniac you) and if you’re like me, you watch Gary Vaynerchuck’s (who is a god) first reactions when he is reviewing wine; when he comes across something that might potentially be amazing, as soon as the wine hits his tongue, he goes silent. And Gary V is like full of energy you know like a motor that never stops and his charisma carries the show, but when a wine hits his sweetspot, he goes silent, says nothing for about half a minute and all he does is crack this smile, no in fact, he’s not even trying to because the man is holding back, sometimes even making a fist and putting it over his mouth as if to figuratively contain and collect all his essence before releasing his emotions. And that calm before the storm, is kinda what I felt when I ate this: (fist over mouth) it was amazing. The crispy crust is like a thin roof barely sheltering what is the creamiest and (almost!) boneless blobs of buttery meat & fat, with full marbling flavours, the subtle complexity is a rustic dish executed in style. Layered on top of a simple egg, green and new potato medley with just the a tinge of zing in the dressing, it was elegantly simple, and a joy to eat.

Signe.

I ordered a glass of red: the Abruzzo to be exact. £3.75 for a short glass, it carried bittersweet chocolate flavours, and a purity akin to say brown sugar; the easy drinking wine was surprisingly smooth and it fitted in with the Giaconda theme. The mains are an equally breezy read, in addition to grilled meat/fish of the day (served with chips & salad), they also feature exotic cuts and offal offerings such as poached ox tongue, braised tripe with smoked paprika and sautéed veal kidneys. I initially opted for the eye catching Vitello Tonnato; Radicchio, Potato & Egg Salad (Cold Poached Veal with Tuna Sauce) but the waitress urged me to try the £10.75 Crumbed Ham Hock Hash; Fried Egg & Green Salad, and so I happily obliged.

This thing was sizzling and the fried egg looked ethereal. I split the fried cake down the middle and I was smiling with the yolk oozing down with the aromas gushing out from the middle – wholesome.

I kept getting the feeling like I was eating a really good breakfast, the rocky breadcrumbs blending nicely with the salty ham floss which was mixed in with pieces of potates. Smokey lingering flavours and because it was quite ham-ey, I asked for more bread to dilute the flavours a little. For £10.75, it’s a great dish, again very elegant and I think the potato pieces made this dish.

Remembering Les Paul.

My meal culminated with a forgettable peach ice cream (£4) but quite a smooth frothy flat white (£2.50) ; the jug of water – sparkling – was free, so were the bread & olives but I suppose it’s inclusive in the cover charge (£1) and I was amazed that the bill came sans service. This meal came to exactly to £29.00, I paid by card but had no notes on me. I felt obliged to scramble all the coins I had in an effort to show my gratitude for the warm service. Did I mention that on my visit, the dining room was overseen by only one very friendly waitress. This lunch was merely a slither of a preview that is Giaconda, having only sampled three different dishes as opposed to the usual five or six when I am out with my very special partner in crime, we’ll need to return for more, and I am sure that we will in the near future.

It’s been a while since I last chose to dine alone; the privateness of this tiny room really harked back to the very first days of LondonEater, the days when people would laugh off my romantic idea of writing up essays regarding the nuances of lonely dinner adventures of savouring the moment, soaking in ambiance and rediscovering what it meant to love food.

Lester William Polsfuss 15th June 15th 1915 – 13th August 2009

The Gist of It

Giaconda Dining Room official site
9 Denmark Street WC2 H8LS 0207 240 3334.
£6 Starters £13 Mains £5 desserts
Verdict: Affordable, classique, chic and great tasting food… surrounded by great guitar shops too. Twang.

Like this blog? Why not subscribe to the email newsletter ; alternatively you can subcribe to the RSS feed.