Union Jacks : The kid finally done good.

Who comes up with all this fiction just for a restaurant? This is the persuasive language Oliver’s people have generated for his latest project: “Ours is a union of ideas, traditions, and of people.” “Where wood-fired flatbreads meet great British flavours.” Lookintomyeyeslookintomyeyes. What’s with the wonky name – why not just call it Union or Union Jack. Is this meant to be ironic? I don’t get it. The ambiguity with the plural form (or misplaced punctuation) is the restaurant equivalent of the 2012 Olympics logo. In spite of the spin, this really is just a pizzeria. It’s billed as some kind of ground breaking bastardisation of the humble Italian pie, by the hand of Jamie’s very Bri’ish style and nicknamed as Flatbreads. As if one could reinvent something simply by calling it something else. I do like the ‘Gary Baldy’ biscuit, however. I’d like to think these concepts were the result of a complicated brain storming session by a think tank of consultants locked in a meeting room and eating nothing but pizza to precipitate ideas. Back in the real world, this union is a partnership between Jamie Oliver and Pizza Maestro Chris Bianco. This Central St Giles location being the pilot for a upcoming franchise, which (presumably) pending the success of this branch, will spread throughout London and the rest of the country in the next couple of years

Otto Pizza : The Corn Rules.

And so the legend came to pass, that Otto would become the very first pizzeria in London to crust with cornmeal. Purists (and Italians) will balk at the mention of this heretical abomination, even though the cornmeal base (polenta) is more Chicagoland than Neopolitan. There is no oily, tear resistance, wood-fired sponge in this pizza, rather, one will find that the base takes on a buttery crumble, having more in common with a tart or a quiche than a bona fide DOP. I like the little corner restaurant, the interior is resourceful, down to their choice of decorative photographs, mere 4x6s rather than eye popping 12x18s. Painted green. It is off the noisier end of Notting Hill Gate, and on the convenient bus route – 328 and 31 – that runs from Kilburn/Camden to High St Ken. Tom and Rich, the owners, are two ex-city types who decided to swap suits for aprons, becoming inspired after visits to Dove Vivi, a cornmeal pizzeria in Portland, so the story goes. Eventually, they would return to good ol Columbia to learn how to make them, and before long, they were back in London, taking over a closing cafe, install an oven, whip on a fresh lick of paint and call Otto their own. The better half and yours truly had spent the entire Sunday afternoon cleaning out my old flat in Gloucester

Pizza East : The Mozza of Shoreditch?

Franco Manca. The only pizza you need to eat? [Review]

Anybody watching the X-factor final tonight?