Are you melting in the English summer yet? I’m surprised how humid the weather is so far, I went to Uniqlo to get new shorts so I can let the wind blow me dry…

…. So there is a new gelateria in town, the same group behind the excellent tour-the-Italian-regions restaurant, Bocca di Lupo, and how very timely too. The gelati are pretty unique rather than just offer a standard selection (such as stracciatella or fiore di latte), there are combos such as ricotta, coffee and honey (which was excellent) and avocado & honey (which was a little off kilter, was a little sour).

What I really enjoyed however, were the sorbets, the melon in particular tastes just like frozen cantaloupes, sweet, sugarly, stringly and fresh, just what one needs to cool off really. Even better were their granitas, we tried the watermelon, icy, syrupy and quite literally chipped frozen watermelon. Other granitas on the menu include coffee, blood orange and almond.

The only things that disappointed were the cannoli. On paper it sounds interesting, stuffed with pistachio ice cream, fresh pistachios and a dark chocolate icing. It did taste freshly fried, but as it was stored in the freezer, the pastry dough became soggy. If only they fried and stuffed the cannoli (with gelato of choice, and as an alternate choice to wafer cones) to order, that would be a hit, perhaps in the near future, and a suggestion?

There are other sorts of gelato-stuffed products too, including stuffed melons and pineapples (flesh scooped out) as well as gelato cakes. I also hovered over the small selection of Bocca di Lupo pasta, sausages and sauces, available frozen to buy, but didn’t commit to anything. Canned tomatoes.

Tall stools, tables by the walls and marbled furnishings brightens up the blue-themed gelato bar and deli, if you’re searching for an alternative to Scoop! in Central London, give the Gelupo granitas a try as I think you might like ‘em. Although beware, visual satisfactory will be minimal as the gelati are hidden within deep stainless steel wells as opposed to being shamelessly naked on show behind glass counters…

The Gist of It

Gelupo
Gelateria, £2 per scoop
7 Archer Street
Tube: Piccadilly Circus
Tel: 020 7287 5555

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

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.

Luckily Mark and his better half had already secured a table for us, I was fashionably late as usual. When I arrived, I had to push my way past an army of hungry fans falling in line to make a short queue outside the blue noren which shielded the noodle shop. Inside, the barely furnished restaurant was rumbling with the chatter of hungry noodlers. On service, a bearded man who we assumed was owner John Devitt led a party of two waitresses, barely keeping up with customer turnover. The efficiency extended to its décor, cream walls and square tiles for flooring, so reminiscent of modest cafes in Asia.

There are more than 600 Udon restaurants of a similar vein in the Kagawa prefecture (formerly the Sanuki province) of Southern Japan where Sanuki udon originates. Koya’s zen-like objective is to import this experience of teuchi style (hand-made) Sanuki udon to the Big Smoke. This Udon-ya has barely been open for a month, but already word of mouth regarding John Devitt’s lovely addition to Soho has spread like wild fire. In fact, by the time you read this customary blog post, you would most likely have already tried the slurpy noodles yourself. The secret to its success due in part to the mythology behind the in-house kneading techniques. The udon is freshly made on-site daily. John has been leaking information to the press regarding the methods he has in place which includes kneading by foot for a number of hours, albeit covered in plastic canvas to quell hygienic concerns. I did a quick search for this aforementioned process, and had found a recipe for making udon, step 1 (after prepping the wheat flour mix) is known as ashibumi or ‘stepping on the dough‘. I imagine similar steps would be undertaken by John and his team at Koya to create their prized product.

Devitt – a former chef at Zafferano – employs two key pointmen in his kitchen, Shuko Oda and Junya Yamasaki, both of whom have had stints in Kunitoraya in Paris, which unsurprisingly also specialises in Udon.

The menu’s only noodle offering is udon with a choice of it being served hot in a hot broth (Atsu-Atsu); cold in hot (Hiya-Atsu) or cold in cold (Hiya-Hiya). Consistent with the custom of having warm noodles for winter, and cool noodles for hot summers. Hiya! Accompanying the noodles are a selection of ‘Donburi’ – rice + meat/veg bowl – as well as a number of small dishes such as tsukemono (home made pickle), Kakuni (pork belly) and Umeboshi (pickled plum).

We kicked things off at London’s premier Udon-ya with a single Onsen Tamago (£2).

I poked into the delicately cooked hot spring egg to reveal a half custard-like yolk with the other half turned into a viscous golden liquid that spilled onto the cold dashi soup it was served with. I really enjoyed the velvety texture of the softly egg. Boiled in their own shells at a low heat of around 70C, this gave the egg-whites a cloud-like feel, and the yolk, a flocculent texture.

Kakuni, Braised Pork Belly in Cider (£5.50)

Juicily flossy pork belly cooked in cider gave it a sweet, effervescent quality, though I found that the sogginess damped the flavours slightly.

Cod Tempura £5.50

The last of the small dishes were exquisitely battered pieces of cod, a decidedly light crunch that hid silken flakes of lively cod pieces. The juicy fish nuggets were accompanied by thinly sliced deep-fried lotus-root chips, sweet and salty. A magnificent primer for the main event to come.

Hiya-Atsu, Hiyashi Buta Miso. Cold udon with hot miso pickled pork soup. (£7.50)

The cold udon was presented on a zaru (bamboo basket) , with sprinklings of chopped nori (dried seaweed). I marvelled at the footmanship by picking up long strands of udon with my chopsticks to stretch it as far as my outstretched shoulder would allow. The noodles glistened under the lights, had wonderful elasticity, rubbery to touch, slightly sticky to feel and the friction it created between my lips as I inhaled them made satisfactory zippy noises. The rubbery texture had also reminded me of sago pearls used in bubble milk tea. The noodles were in full koshi glory when cold, koshi being the Japanese term to describe the evenly sticky, spongy bounce of noodles, analogous to being al dente.

Their base stock, the dashi is made with using imported katsuo-arabushi (Fermented and dried Japanese skipjack tuna), souda-bushi (another type of smoked and dried fish) and iriko (dried anchovy) and boy, was it strong. Minced pork pieces sat at the bottom of the intensely flavoured dashi base – an extreme hit of salt on my palate, perhaps a tad too salty to have on its own, but with the noodles – it was godsend, bringing about a bouquet of deep, deep flavours to the noodles. Yummy. I should add that the pork dashi was the perfect dip for the cod tempura too. I scooped some of the udon into the soup, to see how and if time in the soup would change its texture. It did, how interesting. As I progressively slurped the noodles, I noticed how the ‘koshi-ness‘ changed from sticky spongy to slippery spongy as the juices of the soup seeped into the noodles. After perhaps a couple of minutes in the soup, it hit just the right texture and consistency. The noodles didn’t sit in the hot soup long enough for them to become soggy. I didn’t allow it. It was that good.

One bowl of noodles is roughly £8, but you could easily have two or perhaps share a third one because the udon are excellent. There is something very strangely addictive about chewing on sticky, elastic noodles that goes far beyond words can describe. I suppose it’s akin to pizza, or a burrito or I guess a very good Spag-Bol. I could easily do this for lunch every day. Indeed if you do a swift check on twitter during lunch time, you will likely find a good proportion of the London foodie republic doing exactly that. After all, this explains the popularity of very good hand-made noodles being consumed over lunch hour across much of Asia. Simple pleasures.

Affordable, quick, deliciously springy noodles, some say a ‘healthy’ alternative and a novelty factor to boot, what’s not to like? Now get your grease-laden arse down there now right now and make lots of slurping sounds when inhaling your noodles, it’s only etiquette.

The Gist of It

Koya official site
£12pp Japanese, Udon-ya.
49 Frith St W1D 4SG
Tel : 020 7434 4463
Tube : Leicester Square

Gospel Elsewhere: Marina for Metro ; Charmaine for Time Out London ; Foreignmuck on Chowhound ; Will Eat for Money

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

I think it’s safe to proclaim that Spring is finally back. I am gladly replenishing my supply of antihistamines and have been busily stopping to smell the proverbial flowers at every opportune moment. Falling cherry blossoms decorating the side walks like a fluffy pink carpet, what a great time to be alive. Let rip the pollen grains somebody. When the sun shines in our capital, I feel as though the drenched reputation London has, begins to evaporate; Colours become more vivid, people are generally merrier. You have to be, since it is one of the rare days you get to rock £100 Ray Bans. Given that we would be spending more time out of the house, certain establishments suddenly become a more attractive proposition, and F&W is one such candidate. It has much to do with the decor: basic, transparent and mellow. I don’t recall background music and really I can do without in cafes which are at times, over designed in my opinion. The shop front is painted black, but you will hardly miss it as large legs of the finest hams hang from the ceiling, visible through the large front window. One might think the short stools and short bar tables a little restrictive, where in reality, the prudence isn’t so bad, in fact it is quite cosy settling down. There are also large jugs of tap water with small tumblers, free of course. As much as I try to deny it, I can actually see myself tucking into a sandwich while my fingers glide over the latest edition of WIRED … on my soon-to-be-acquired 3G enabled 64GB iPad running OS 4.0. Ah what a perfect way to spend a Friday afternoon. Please do not tell my better half.

There are three branches of F&Ws all in close proximity to one another and each one slightly different. The Beak St branch is mostly for cakes, at St Anne’s court for coffee and this Lexington branch for savoury sandwiches, hot food and tipples. Their mainstays are European inspired sandwiches served with cuts of premium cured hams. The star products include Spanish Jamon Iberico Bellota (Iberian pigs fed on acorn and cereal diet) and legs of Jambon ‘Le Noir de Bigorre’ – a French ham from black pigs, cured for 24 months. Bread comes in two varieties, firstly the ‘boccadillos’ – French stone baked baguette – with choices ranging from Grilled ‘Lomo’ (thin-sliced loin of pork) with Manchego and Garlic Butter; Chorizo with unpasteurised Manchego Cheese and Jambon ‘Le Noir de Bigorre’ with Plum Tomato. The other choice are ciabattas and their selection includes Grilled Chorizo, Roasted Red Pepper and Rocket; Mortadella, Aioli, Saucisson, Rocket, Shaved Parmesan and Parma Ham; Prosciutto, Plum Tomato and Rocket. Sounds so good doesn’t it?

In addition to the sandwiches, F&W also serves a changing daily menu of cooked specials ranging from roast chicken to rabbit stew. There are reports that these dishes are equally splendiferous, though I didn’t try them specifically. I am a huge fan of iberico ham and I was prepared to ask if they served made to order iberico ham sandwiches. Abit of comté , warm ciabatta would have been the perfect marriage between Spain and France. But then the waitress enticed me and Mark with a beautiful pork roast, covered in a golden brown crackling, which we couldn’t say no to. Six quid.

Mustard, mayonnaise and fiery rocket leaves accompanied the handsome bun, with but the faintest whiff of roast meat emanating from the sandwich. I take my first bite. Damn… this is so juicy. The tenderest of pork, perhaps the result of a slow cooking roast. I spotted mustard seeds in amongst the mayonnaise spread.

You know, a good sandwich need not be brandished with long sentences of gushing adjectives, it simply needs to be eaten again, and so I ordered another, with extra crackling. Look at the densely packed meat – you know you want some of that. There is a distinct lack of able boulangeries in London, but where quantity is wanting, quality is found – in heaps – at Fernandez & Wells. The large windows let in so much light that it is the perfect place to sit and read a book…. I do fantasize about those large legs of ham dislodging and somehow landing in my mouth…. glaring reflections from extra sunshine might not be ideal for an iPad, though one can retreat further into the well-lit shop for the already tablet wielding types among us. So there you have it sandwich lover, heaven or something close to it.

PS: On the subject, do check out Tim Hayward’s excellent exposition regarding a shooter’s sandwich.

The Gist of It

Fernandez & Wells Food and Wine Bar official site
Sandwiches £6
43 Lexington Street W1F 9AL
Tel: 020 7734 1546
Tube : Leicester Square
Glorification Elsewhere : Greedy Diva ; Time Out London ; World Foodie Guide ; Food Tourist ; Londonelicious

More photographs on my flickr account.

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

Getting a table at this rather cosy restaurant is a bona fide challenge, even in light of its rather low-profile existence. I don’t think it has a web page. It does however have a fervent following spreading the good word on the intertubes. Twitter was equally in love with Andrew Edmunds (same people perhaps?). I pieced together a coherent picture of this hidden gem of a restaurant through the online dining community channels, which I am unofficially apart of. Enthusiast restaurant collectors abound. I failed to secure a table on three separate occasions, but I persisted anyway till I managed one in earlier this year. I needed to try Edmunds because it intrigued me so much. The last time I felt this way was discovering the equally elusive Dinings.

I was to meet with two of the coolest peeps who run two of the coolest websites on the internet. Helen the former world foodie guide and now a living legend in internet foodie terms, so to speak; Garson the consummate street photographer, custodian of the ‘Garson blur’ and my unofficial mentor of sorts, I’ve learnt so much from him already. So Food & Photography. I couldn’t be in better company. It was a slippery Friday night in January, the snow refusing to melt from the storm which had hit us the year before. The front door at Edmunds was as grey as the January gloom. I was a little surprised at how modest the décor actually was. The restaurant was well-worn, but well-maintained and with an aged character that felt genuine. Space was necessarily wanting. Twisting and turning as I made my way past the narrow gaps in between the backs of chairs. Our table was in the basement, the chatter cuts off as I enter the cellared surroundings. I prefer the upstairs area, where the lowly light ambiance is as romantic as word of mouth suggests. The menu was a hand-written photocopy, perhaps a suggestion that it is refreshed on a frequent basis. A mix of efficient British and Eurocentric recipes, dare I say, a kind of precursor to gastropubs. Anyway let’s just dive into the food.

I started with the roast woodcock on toast.

The natural game saturated my palate, heavily-seasoned, and with an intensity just enough to distract from feeling the pinch of the game. Complete with a lovely baked comfort and a texture still juicy, with the bird just a tad pink. Oh I loved this, such a rustic accomplishment.

And here are a peek at what H and G were having.

G is vegetarian, so naturally he had a salad. Fortunately company was so unbelievable good that I forgot to jot down what he had. He did appear to have enjoyed it though.

And here is Helen’s dressed crab.

I found their choice of (or lack of) styling quite abit puzzling. The distance between the shell of the crab and the dollop of aioli (or was it mayo?) made it look so empty. Helen also seemed to have enjoyed this.

This is one of those rare occasions where I behaved myself and didn’t reach across the table to steal food from neighbouring plates. I tend to think of it as a sort of ‘Blogger tax’. Blogger tax usually comes with a 2 minute wait, for photos.

Helen’s scallop risotto.

Ah, this I did have a small sample, not enough to deliver a full blown assessment, though my tastebuds did register a similar response to its heavenly appearance.

G’s mushroom tagliatelle.

I noted the substantial portions of every course, it seems the chef is genuinely in the business of satiating appetites. I didn’t give this a go, but G seemed pleased with it, it was redolent.

And finally, my turn : Pork Belly, apple puree, mash.

I was bemused when they handed me a large knife, but it all made sense when this dish landed. A herculean plate of food. Chunks of sliced pork belly glistened under the spotlights, it looked so good, I was struggling to refrain myself from poking a finger as I took pictures. Hearty and homey aromas steaming quite visibly from the meat. Oh gosh, what regal texture. The juices go everywhere as I bit into it, so hearty and so beautifully roasted. The mash was equally so, buttery. The best bits though were the apple puree and a large slab of crunchy crackling which they had left to one side on the dish. I picked it up with my hands and ate it like I was chewing down on a Cuban. Not that I smoke cigars. What a remarkable example of this most classic of dishes.

We each ended with rather safe if classic puddings. Treacle tart, toffee pudding and a slice of white chocolate, pistachio cake. All in all… G very kindly paid for the meal, so I need to thank him for this. I’ve promised to return the gesture on our next meet. Yeah I believe it. I can seen why the Edmunds charm has seduced so many. It was fully booked on a Friday evening, barely room for outstretched elbows, or even to undo the top button on my trousers. I thoroughly enjoyed my meal at Edmunds, not for phenomenal nor ground-breaking cuisine, but for recreating solid recipes which were – very simply – cooked well. It is completely unpretentious, is a place I would not hesitate to revisit, and also is a restaurant which I wouldn’t mind taking visitors to; something uniquely local. I can think of mustier, smaller and older looking joints in and around Soho for those of you searching for evocative romantic evenings, but many will not match the kitchen’s output at Edmunds. Maybe Giaconda Dining Room. I would put both restaurants in the same category. Soho’s modestly hidden British restaurants, reticent, accomplished and comforting. It is discoveries such as this that make the hunt to develop a palate such an exhilarating adventure. I do wonder about the history of it’s name, though it might be better if I never found out to protect its mystique. Recommended.

The Gist of It

Andrew Edmunds, £30pp
46 Lexington Street, Soho W1F 0LW
Tel : 0207 437 5708
Tube : Leicester Square
Reviews elsewhere : David Sexton ; TimeOut London ; The Silver Spoon ; Intoxicating Prose

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

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 selection. But first, a few words regarding their lavish circumstances.

Slick. Very much so. The black and red theme consistent with the Robuchon brand is written across the entire setup. There are lots of soft furnishings to sink my overweight body into, ahh… We chose a corner table by the blinded off windows, and also for it’s oversized single person sofas. It would appear the boys at Sketch have serious competition.

I’m no expert on interior design, but while the concept of La Salon is similar in spirit to the laid back elegance of the two star restaurant downstairs; the bar just feels a tad more opulent. While it appears like it could be a pretty stuffy place, the waiters are down to earth and made us feel right at home.

Right then, let’s talk about the food, there isn’t much on offer as it’s just high tea. £14 per person gets you their tea selection.

We were given a choice with regards to teas which included a myriad of exotic choices. My half chose the jasmine pearls, I was explore my feminine side with rosebuds infused tea…. yeah, turns out I don’t like rosebud infused tea. As we went before the 14th of Feb (er… my apologies for not posting this earlier), we were given a complimentary shot of raspberry cheesecake – Vanilla fragrance followed by a rich red fruit bomb, refreshing. The main event is a two tier stand; it’s dinkier than I had expected, and I went on an empty stomach – foolish I know. On the top tier are the La gougères au persil with red pepper and parsley – a sort of cheese stuffed pastry balls. These were delicious, served warm, the appenzeller cheese sauce stuffing was much like a creamy bechamel and with just a hint of dairy stink. Went down really well, I could easily have ten more. Onto the bottom tier, an assortment of sweet pastry. I started with the frangible mandelines. A sophisticated golden centre made from peaches, gave it a regal taste. The mandeline was then masterfully wrapped with an ultra skinny mandarin marmalade layer, so consistent it glistened in the light. Nice. Other pretentiously dinky pastries included a wafer thin chocolate and coconut biscuit made in size of penny coins. There were also stick to your teeth caramel candy each individually wrapped. I will however note that the macarons were only average, crusty and a little dry – not Pierre Herme, heck not even a patch on the average Parisian pastry shops.

Overall, I liked Le Salon, I think it’s the nice alternative to indulge if you are looking for a place to burn your time and money. It costs less than a trip to the restaurant downstairs, though two tiers are hardly adequate, so don’t expect to be fed well when you go. You know what this feels like, abit like a primer to get acquainted with the Robuchon brand before taking the plunge on their ala carte, and I think I just might have been seduced, again.

More photographs on my flickr account here.

The Gist of It

Le Salon Bar official site
L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon,
13-15 West Street WC2H 9NE
Tel : 020 7010 8600
Tube: Leicester Square

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

Dim sum week continues to roll through LondonEater and I have chosen to return to Leong’s Legends Continues – a restaurant which I panned not too long ago. I have good reason to go back because I have heard good things about their dim sum. I take the view that ala carte and dim sum menus in the same restaurant are entirely mutually exclusive; I feel that the style of food is distinct enough which can lead to wildly differing meals. I suppose it is also the same reason why some Chinese restaurants hire dedicated chefs who are in charge of either menus. This isn’t just limited to London restaurants; I carry the same sort of mentality wherever the restaurant is, be it Crystal Jade in Singapore or Kam Fook in Sydney – both of which were memorable meals.

And so with this revisit, I emptied my memory banks of my previous meal. The subject of yet another massive tweatup and the usual suspects my missus, Mark, Euwen, Catty (in spirit) and Charzsiubao were all in attendance. There are actually two Leong’s Legends within a stone’s throw away from each other. Both are in chinatown with the original based in Macclesfield Street and Leong’s Legend Continues (this revisit) in Lisle street. I’m not entire sure if there are notable differences between two branches or if LLC exists to handle the overflow. Many accounts suggest that food quality is interchangeable. The uniqueness of the Leong’s Legends are their nominated style of regional cooking – mostly Taiwanese, though not limited to it. This offers an alternative to the largely recognisable Cantonese cuisine that punctuates much of Chinatown. This extends to their dim sum menu, while staple yum cha choices such as har gao and charsiu bao are ever present; one could supplement the old favourites with something different.

One of the best things about dim sum is the sheer variety of food, especially when visiting with large groups. The organised chaos which the table turns into when the bamboo steamers start stacking up on the table is really part of what makes dim sum so much fun. It does however make it trickier to piece together a cohesive narrative though.

Let’s kick things off with a Taiwanese classic : Gua Bao.

Basically this is a Taiwanese burger, and a form of streetfood (loosely speaking). One would usually find street vendors selling these at night markets in Taipei (it’s how I discovered it), and Leong’s Legends is one of the few places in London which does them. Served with pork belly and peanut shavings, and also smothered with a ridiculously good gravy. The bun was puffy and very soft, carried a touch of sweetness and overall it produced a very juicy mouthful. The tender pork belly was soaking with flavour. Oh yummy, just like Taipei.

Next up ‘Juk’ or Congee.

Oh wow, I was really surprised with the quality of the congee; very smooth going down, a consistent pastiness about it and it exuded the hallmark chicken stock saltiness which – in my opinion – is what makes or break a congee. We ordered some youtiaw – deep fried dough sticks – to dip into this traditional Chinese (Hong Kong I should say) breakfast and it felt like I was in Asia again. My all time favourite congee was a small two person vendor who sold in an open air food market in Brunei. It was a mother and son outfit originally from Hong Kong, whose family were basically descended from a generation of congee brewers (makers?) – the smoothest congee I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating. Last I checked (with my mum), they’ve long since moved on from their modest shop. Anyway, I think the congee here compares well. The only other place in London which I rate for congee is Yauatcha. Just to be clear, this style of congee is more Cantonese than Taiwanese, where the latter version sets itself apart with it being characteristically watery.

Next : Xiao Long Baos.

We ordered the two variants of this dish, both the pork as well as the crab, with the latter supposedly differentiated by the fish roe at the summit of each individual dumpling. I found the that both variants had great meaty flavours, the piping hot broth was quite abit intense, with a sharp tanginess in aftertaste. The crab version had a touch of fishiness probably due to the inclusion of a couple of frozen crabsticks – otherwise the differences in taste were relatively minor. Disappointingly, I found the wrapping to be a tad too thick, so much so that I thought that parts of it were undercooked, as it was definitely a little powdery. Abit of a let down, but otherwise the xiao long baos were quite good.

More good news : Prawn and chive dumpling.

I’ll use this part of the review to speak about the har gaw as well as the shui mai. But first, I have to say, the prawn n chive dumplings were very, very good – a prawn punch soften by the gentle dumpling wrap. Similarly, the har gao was dominated by an intense hit of shrimp, but with a peppery edge to it – something which might confuse purists, but which I thought gave it an interesting dimension.

The shui mai though – totally different story altogether – to be frank, it was disgusting. It reeked of pork fat, but not in an aromatic way. It was more like lard which had been boiled and then left outside to rot before being reused to make the dumplings. It gave rise to this stink which felt as if I had just rinsed my mouth with sewerage water and then proceeded to chew on newspaper. Some of the worst shui mais I’ve ever had, even worse than the frozen stuff from SeeWoo.

Next, grilled minced pork buns.

Pan-fried to toasty exterior, with the insides warm and hearty. I quite enjoyed these for the nostalgia it evoked – it felt like I was in my aunt’s kitchen all over again. Sizzling pan, sesame oil, the smell of toasty dough, could do with abit more soya sauce in the filling though.

So here’s what we are saying: best dim sum in Chinatown. It is less of a compliment than it sounds because in my humblest of opinions, Chinatown dim sum is categorically torrid. On the other hand, it is refreshing to know that I can start removing the mental blocks with regards to Chinese restaurants in Soho. Are there better restaurants to have dim sum? I think so, but then again, there are few places in town which serve good gua bao, xiao long bao or even good congee and Leong’s Legend delivers in that regard. I came out of this meal feeling uplifted which I’d put down to the high amounts of endorphins released, a pleasantly positive experience all around and a total contrast to my first visit. As I said before, there really are two sides to the dinner and dim sum menus in Chinese restaurants and I believe that Leong’s Legends is no exception. If you are looking to sample a range of great Taiwanese a la carte dishes, you’re better off looking elsewhere. However if you are looking for radiant dim sum with a difference, Leong’s Legend might just surprise you.

Other polarising viewpoints : The London Foodie ; Tales from the tip of my tongue ; World Foodie Guide ; London Chow ; Tamarind and Thyme

The Gist of It

Leong’s Legends Continues official site £25pp
26-27 Lisle Street WC2H 7BA
Tel : 020 7734 3380
Tube: Leicester Square

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

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

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

If you’ve been keeping your finger on the pulse of the London foodie scene, you’ll be aware of the carnival that followed the recent opening of this latest Italian venture to hit Soho. It has been a couple of months since it’s opening and it is ever so busy. They do no take evening bookings, and my first visit was a non starter that resulted in a return visit to Koba. That was eight pm on a Thursday night. We eventually infiltrated the bacaro on a Monday night literally by beating the queue to it at 6.30 pm.

No pastas, wine was involved but not the glasses and Mark was entertaining our growing bromance.

One of the weirdest problems with social media and it’s ability to spread the word, is that sometimes, the word gets repetitive. Content homogeneity turns the ‘London Food Blogging Scene’ into abit of a bore really and eversince Marina (of Metro) planted the seed in my mind – firstly with her Bocca review – and then her Polpo review; I have to say, it leaves me with little motivation to repeat much of the gush that my peers have not already showered on restaurant X. On the other hand, I feel an obligation to piggy back on the wave of trend (mostly for your reading pleasure) but also that it is futile to resist the temptations to capitalise on traffic gains.

The dilemma, oh the dilemma. I usually use the ‘critic/blogger review links’ in Urbanspoon to decide whether it’s worth adding more hot air to the interwebs (I’ve not still applied at Harwood Arms or Galvin Bistrot de Luxe, yet.) and in the case of Polpo, the bloggerati had long since endorsed it. You’ll find no less than ten blog posts about it. This will be the eleventh, at least as measured by Urbanspoon. There is a point to all of this (of course there is), aside from me satisfying my appetite and understanding what the fuss is all about; Mark had raised an interesting point when he mentioned of the notorious lighting inside the 18th century building (once home to a Venetian painter, allegedly.) and the difficulty people have had in capturing memories within it. Ah-ha. A challenge – taking shots in the dark.

Starters – CHICHETI – were salt cod on polenta (£2.10), Prosciutto & mozzarella (£2.10) and two arancini (£1.50)

I’ve never been to an ‘authentic’ Bacaro in Venice, so I had to google this. Basically it’s a wine bar that serves tapas sized dishes to share. We kicked off proceedings with a nibbly selection, of which was mostly good. The salt cod on a tempur-like polenta and a capable arancini with an oozingly appetising centre of risotto and cheese. Bit pricy for party sizes, but tasty.

The menu is very clearly divided by it’s types, and the restaurant served them as progressive courses as well. After lubricating our system with the chicheti, we moved swiftly to sample the breads. We tried the pizzetta bianca (4.20) ; and the crudo, mozzarella & rocket panino (£4.90).

Wine was Primitivo, Fiori 2008 at £18, the third cheapest option, I can’t remember much of it, young and forgettable I suppose. I couldn’t say that the ham & cheese panino was the best I’d ever had, it was simply a bite sized ham & cheese panini no better (or worse) than what’s out there; the mini white pizza on the other hand, was delightful, baked with rosemary, onions and cheese, I detected tangy hints on the palatte and it was as if the pizzetta was infused with mango juice, was it just the wine goggles, or can others who’ve been confirm this?

Before we take things further, I just want to talk about the restaurant ambiance and give some reasons as to why it rocked my world. There isn’t anything unique about it, it is simple, stripped down and many people were just letting their hair fly like the wind. Perhaps a reason for it’s apparent success thus far is due in part to it’s rather strategically conceived concept. Moderately priced, Italian, cool, unpretentious, easy food to share, trendy etc. I really liked the atmosphere in there, I could almost act my age.

We march ahead to the meat & veg: In focus are the polpette (£4.80) and out of focus are the English Beets (£3.60). And in the distance, is Mark getting his jiggy on for dinner.

“What are polpettes?” We asked. “Why they are our meatballs.” said the waitress who delivered personable service throughout the night. As far as meatballs go, it was alright. The sauce was sweet rather than spicy, the meatballs were chunky but I’ve had better. Next: Pork belly, radicchio, hazelnuts (£5.70) and the Fritto misto (£6.60).

Now we’re talking. The pork belly was simply luscious and the juicy mouthful was a nutty yet subtle flavour. I really enjoyed the representative from the fish menu – the fritto misto was a variety of deep-fried seafood. The batter was a powdery mist that gently covered the seafood, simple but effective.

Our meal culminated with the grilled sliced flank steak & flat mushrooms (£6.90). Still bloody & juicy, the steak was a little chewy but flavourful. Bit of salt and bit of mushrooms, and everything was just pukka. (He really needs to bring that back.)

Puddings were honey & walnut semifreddo (£2.80) and a decadent hot chocolate pot & essi (3.50) which I slowly sipped into the night…

All in all, it was an agreeable experience. Taking into account all the bells and whistles, Polpo has an attractive vibe about it that makes it a very suitable after work place to meet up, hang out and eat reasonably priced food. Our bill came to just under £77, which is just about right for the amount of food we had I suppose. We did walk away feeling satisfied, and I suppose that’s the same reason why half of London are flooding the gates at the latest Venetian bacaro to hit Soho.

The Gist of It

Polpo official website £35pp
41 Beak St, Soho W1F 9SB
Tel: 020 7734 4479
Tube: Picadilly Circus

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

The tweatup team comprises of six bottomless appetites and it took fate (and twitter) to bring together this hungry pack, whose ultimate goal is to eat our way to economic growth. The pack is led by the enigmatic Tehbus and his second in command Mr FbM, a shadowy secret agent who splits his gastro assignments between America and London. The team’s uber-assasins are three women, namely supercharz, foodieguide and Cattylicious. And I’d like to think of myself as…the waterboy.

The latest conquest is Bodeans, and this is the paper movie*.

(*The events depicted are based on a true story.)

After seeing District 9, I’m feeling a little obsessed with the ultra-realistic mockumentary film making style which was so successfully employed. I also managed a weekend sitting of Speilberg’s Schindler’s List which also employed another form of documentary narrative. Of course war and aliens have nothing to do with Bodeans, which is purportedly London’s original smoke house. Call me naive, I love good PR pitches, especially the ones with a human face attached to it. The Bodeans story starts with Andre Blais’s dream to bring Kansas City smoke & soul to London’s drench & grim. Since their launch in 2002, they have expanded to five locations around town, ensuring their barbeque racks and frosty beers are as authentic as watching Dwyane Wade lead Marquette into the final four. This bbq joint does have an American b-movie feel; darkly lit wooden décor, highlight reels playing on the flatscreens dotted around the basement space, oh and there’s those flickering neon signs too. All that was missing, was me rocking up in my trucker cap. Dang it, why didn’t I photograph the ambiance?

This tweatup coincided with Catty’s birthday – who’s electrifying energy will quickly grow on you (try her blog, you’ll love it). We brought our other halves as well as our imaginary concubines (Cheryl Cole was sitting on my lap, he says) to dinner. I sat across the table from Catty’s beau (whose name I will not say) who is a great bloke and it was quite hilarious trying to convince this twitter sceptic that we food bloggers were not made up virtual people. He bought Catty Jimmy Whoos for her special day. What a dude.

Dang it where’s the BBQ burnt ends? Only on Mondays and Wednesdays we were told so instead we plonked for the other signature dish on the menu, pulled pork and baby ribs £14.95.

The baby back ribs were quite nice, honeyed, smokey and juicy. Not the best ribs to grace London, but pretty good. On the other hand, the pulled pork was abit of a downer, it was mostly dry and chewy.

The other half of the table including myself went for the Bodean special – Jacob Ladder beef ribs.

And so the meatfest begins! I was a little surprised at how big the portions were, I had the half, and I was struggling to finish it. The hopelessly burnt exterior does not tell the story of these short ribs, as the insides were gloriously meaty with wadges of melting fat threatening to fall off the bone, alot of proper carnivorously sturdy flavour going on. I eyeballed about an inch thick of meat, while abit of chewiness was to be expected, it was mostly tender.

I really enjoyed the Jack Ladder ribs, it was everything you’d expect from the meatfest. Also very good was the clam chowder (£3.95) , a creamy potato soup base with bits of bacon to season, served with a couple of slices of buttered garlic bread.

We also naively ordered half a dozen greasy buffalo wings (£4.95) which we embarassingly failed to devour. So much for them bottomless appetites.

Pudding came in the form of aluminium foiled brownies, which Catty made for us. Its delish, I was going to save it for breakfast the next day, but I wolfed it down after trying a few crumbs. Thanks Catty. I must be one of the last Londoners to try Bodeans, so this non-review is just a formality really, if you’ve not been yet (or are a vegetarian wondering what the fuss with meat is about) then give Bodeans a try. Just make sure you don’t over order.

As for the tweatup team, well the search for more feasts continue. Our next conquests include a Lobster feasting (which has already taken place at the time of writing) , a Burger/Sarsaparilla extravaganza will follow in sometime October and then – tentatively – we’re all going to have an epic puff-off before the year ends.

What exactly a puff-off is, well you’ll just have to watch this space, curryhead.

The Gist of It

Bodeans Soho official site
£20pp
10 Poland Street W1F 8PZ
Tel: 020 7287 7575
Closest Tube: Picadilly Circus

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

Soho could not be a merrier place. The colours of the rainbow adorn shop fronts and in this most celebrated of city underbellies – home to a myriad of eclectic restaurants – it is the default option to hang out with the cool kids, albeit being a little cliché. Randall & Aubin is such a place for them cool kids; There is an air of relaxed openness from the outset as if, like the rest of Soho, the party never stops. The thumping music so loud it is matched by the eye catching seafood counter. We might still be knee deep in a recession, but man do I need to indulge in abit of weekend gluttony.

Inside the restaurant, it could not be more pumping and gay, as we had to shout to be heard. The aged interiors, a giant glitter ball hanging off the ceiling and seemingly roughly done paintjob added to this location’s spontaneity, like a pop up oyster bar making a permanent home. The Randall & Aubin folklore begins in 1911 as a champion of the finest cuts of meat and cheese. The family business continued until 1996, when it was then converted by James Poulton and Edward Baines from a butchery to its current incarnation as a purveyor of oyster & bubbles, as well a cracking good time.

The party was decidedly happening, even at 4pm in the afternoon. I stopped by for a late lunch, as R&A always looked packed to the brim at night, tempted particularly by the seafood. Inside, this Sunday afternoon crowd had similar intentions; champagne corks popping frequently enough for me to notice it, caviar available at celebratory prices, £90 for 30g. We chose to sit facing the aged tiled walls for privacy, occasionally turning around to absorb abit of the energetic ambiance.

Sliced baguette with marinated olives came first, each basket available with a cover charge of £1.50 per diner. As you would expect, there is plenty of fish on the menu, but it doesn’t stop there. R&A also feature a rotisserie – visible to diners – and you could watch the chicken roast itself on the rotating spit (as I was doing). The grazing menu is snack friendly and I just want to highlight their baguette section, because the bread they served us, was well worth the cover charge, crusty on the outside and a softly sweet dough on the inside. Fillings include salt beef with sauerkraut and hot chicken salad, served with pomme frites at £7.95 each.

A portion of thinly cut frites got the gears churning as we largely ignored the cooked menu in favour of the magnum opus to match the occasion. Fruits de mer, £29.50 per person.

“Is it big? Enough for two?” In hindsight I asked the waitress a naive question. Puzzled, she simply replied “Yes.”

All the gems from the sea were present on this platter of ice, except for a granddaddy lobster. Six rock oysters accompanied two giant langoustines, an oversized crab, six green lip mussels, a pot of diver picked scallops, a handfuls of whelks, a couple of cherry clams and huge altantic shrimps. The embarrassment of riches was a visual treat, as I stood (yes I got up from my high stool) to rotate the platter around, the waitress smiled and said “Big enough for you?” to which I nodded and gleefully returned the smile.

Oh gosh, this was really a treat. I started at the top with the sliced scallops, which I think were only briefly browned, the texture inside was as tender as a lullaby and a natural flavour that can only be seasoned by a lifetime spent in the deep sea. A dollop of the horseradish and a few spoonfuls of the citrusy pink shallots vinaigrette gave the razor fresh rock oysters a much needed bang as I greedily slurped the invigorating juices. The shellfish were the highlight for me, especially the oversized prawns. As I broke the head from the body, savoury juices came spewing out at me, the chunky flesh was so full of natural sweetness, that it needed no seasoning whatsoever. Similarly, the langoustines were all about natural bounce & flavour – akin to the shimmer & bounce shampoo commercials so regularly allude to. I felt like Poseidon with a miniature pitchfork digging for diamonds among the jewels presented in front of me.

I’m not the biggest fan of sea snails, but the nautical gastropods were just so juicy. I wished for a couple more crab claws, but overall I was entirely satisfied with this feast. £59 is a lot of money for two, thankfully the portions were epic and quality wise, the shellfish were so fresh off the boat that the melting ice in the platter smelled of the sand and the sea. We are still living through the greatest recession in history thus far, so I avoided the bubbly and opted for two glasses of palette cleansing Pinot Grigio’s instead, our bill came to £85. I think Randall & Aubin is an instant classic in a storied location, the understated ambiance encourages you go let your hair down, and tempts you to really let go of that tweed jacket, in case you spill the caviar all over it. Seafood is excellent and I’m looking forward to a return visit to try the more modestly priced cooked food.

The Gist of It

Randall & Aubin official site
£30 per person
16 Brewer Street W1F 0SG
Tel: 020 7287 4447
Closest Tube: Picadilly Circus

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