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.

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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

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Barrica was never on my eat-list. The original intention was suppose to be an impromptu power lunch at oversubscribed Lantana to give the now legendary steak sandwiches a try. The steak sandwiches remain folklore for now. Unable to squeeze into Lantana, we stood at the front door of Viet baguette (next door down), contemplating… but eventually, we decided to haul our longing and sorry fat asses out from Charlotte’s place and onto Goodge street in search of something affordable, something to share and something delicious.

It was a double date but not like what you think. I was to meet my bromantic brother from the hood – Mark; while Supercharz was to lunch with her mushy girlie mate (also) from the hood – Shalinee. We decided to meet up at the height of lunch at 1pm and were braced for a busy service at Lantana. As we emerged with long faces, we went to plan B – Guy’s recommendation of a newish tapas bar which had the toes to dance with some of Goodge street’s finest Spanish pretenders. Personally, I was rather glad that we were going to a place which had not received immense internet coverage yet, it was Friday afterall, and we were all braindead. Barrica is owned by Tim Luther formerly of Albion wine shippers and whom has brought his wine know-how to the Barrica wine list (which we denied ourselves the pleasures of trying out on this visit). In the kitchen, ex-Moro man James Knight is responsible for crafting the Barcelona inspired menu. It’s a good bedtime story thus far, but the proof is in the cazuela.

Our meal started with a selection of the cheaper bite-sized dishes including ham & cheese croquetas (4 pieces for £4) ; Sobrasada cos Tostada (£2) ; Tortillas de Patata (£3) and Padron peppers (£4.50)

The first impressions were good. The omellette (tortilla) was cut into bite-size rhombuses, and they were mushy potato rich and well seasoned, appetitising. We noted the paltry croquetas portions, but were roundly impressed (well I was anyway) with the warmth of the creamy centre. Mark best described the peppers as bitter ladyfingers, and I was glad that I wasn’t the one in ten to experience a superhot pepper. Phew. Out of this selection, I liked the sobrasado the most. Described as a sort of rillette but made with iberico ham, it was a vibrant orange paste, and served on top of toasted bread. Both citrusy and peppery and definitely something which I could snack on forever.

The menu features a number of interesting ingredients including skate cheeks and bone marrow, which made ordering a lot more exciting, than the usual tapas joint. Here we tried the breaded pig’s trotters (£5)

Served with a kind of tomato based paste (I think, but I guess you can correct me) and then garnished with whole nuts. I thought the paste was so-so, it was no better than M&S red pesto, and as for the breaded pork; It had far too many boney bits in it, and I ended up spitting more than I swallowed.

We tried a couple of dishes on the specials board too, including crabs on toast (£6) and veal cheeks cooked with spinach (£6).

The crabs on toast were pretty good and a little different from the British recipes which I am used to. The citrus zing was clearly missing, and in it’s place a subdued fishiness lingered on my buds. I know this sounds strange, but the crab paste had reminded me of california roll, but with butter spread all over it. It was still recognisable for what it was, but I’ve had better crabs on toast in London, especially the full bodied chunky ones (with roe) at Great Queen Street.

On the otherhand, the veal cheeks with spinach was one of the best things I had eaten all week. Regretfully, I hadn’t managed to snap a photo of what the dish looked like (which wasn’t much to be honest), so you’ll have to take my word for it. It was served with a thick & darkly coloured gravy (which I assume is a kind of red wine sauce). The veal cheeks were so supremely tender than it was verging on being slimy. The flavours instantly grabbed our attention, a concentrated pan-fried smokiness deeply infused within the meat and an intense beefiness that sizzled on my palate. Oh heaven.

The other heavenly soft and silky meat dish were the chargrilled mutton (£7).

Initially we thought these were the veal cheeks, what with its tenderness. We were quite surprised at how mellow the flavours were, being that the characteristic lambiness was mostly subdued. It was beautifully pink and smoky and then garnished with a sort of green pesto like paste; This was something I could eat again and again. So simple yet so good.

Of course, no tapas meal would be complete without squid (£6)

Grilled to impart a tinge of bitterness, the texture was smooth and drizzled for a wet finish. Gently seasoned and with garlic chips for garnish, the squid tasted agreeable.

Next up were the clams, and what I thought was an instant classic. Served with a brothy sauce; the clams were hearty and heady.

I’m running out of adjectives now, so I’ll just talk about one last dish: bone marrow on toast.

Reminiscent of a sweet onion tart, the bone marrow were presented ‘bone free’ and cut into little circular shaped which looked alot like whole scallops. When the marrow cubes disintegrated in my mouth, it let out a wave of mature fatty-marbling flavours which balanced well against the sweet(ish) flavours. Really nice.

Our bill came to £63, just under £16 each. Overall, I liked this place more than I thought I was going to, my gripe with it were the relatively small portions. Cutting up some of the dishes (the crabs on toast especially) called for basic training in clinical surgery. Food was mostly good with some dishes being more inventive than the average London tapas bar (whatever that may be). Food also felt rustic and everything was well cooked. I’m surprised there’s no hype around this place (no twitter presence perhaps) and bearing in mind of similar tapas bar in the locale (Salt Yard and Barrafina included), I think Barrica stacks up against the competition rather well. Oh one more thing, the space is a beautifully presented rectangular space – you can’t beat yellow walls, surely. Understated stuff and I think it offers slick cooking which should eventually attract a loyal crowd, which right now includes me. As a lover of most things Spanish, I’m happy to have stumbled across Barrica, it’s a gem in the smoke.

More photographs on my flickr account here.

The Gist of It

Barrica official site £25pp
62 Goodge Street W1T 4NE
Tel : 020 7436 944
Tube : Goodge Street

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I am just about the biggest fan of Spanish food, I could be served deep-fried croquettes – with a frozen centre – and probably still walk away a happy camper. In London, I have already established my favourite Spanish spot – Cambio De Tercio, (go there it’s good) – and ironically enough my eating schedule of late has excluded many Spanish restaurants. Until now that is.

Like many things in food & wine, I heard about the awesomeness of Iberica through word of mouth. Reading up the several blog posts already out there on this place (here and here), I swiftly put it on my list. This tapas bar isn’t the usual undersized eatery usually the case of London’s finest. Instead, Iberica is spread over two storeys, and its namesake brand is also a purveyor of other things Spanish. The shops based within this establishment also sell anything from olive oil to music DVDs, though I didn’t tour the shopping bits when I was there. I guess Iberica is suppose to be a bit of a Spanish Centre; it almost doesn’t look like a restaurant, which explains how Mark missed it when walking along Great Portland Street. Anyway, so this place is massive. Iberica – the tapas bar – is found in most of the ground floor, and one can just about spot the formal restaurant -Caleya – on the 2nd floor. There’s lots of open space at the venue, the 2nd floor is an exposed mezzanine, and downstairs, tables line the glass walls. As I waited for Mark to arrive, I ordered a glass of red – the Castillo de Perelada Crianza 2006, £6.50, a mix of six grapes and one I would really recommend you try if you like jammy reds bursting with life and vibrancy. Plenty of new worldliness, as whiffs of strawberries and (i know it sounds odd) bubblegum excited the nose. My palate probably needs more training as I usually lean toward younger and sweeter wines – preferring new world pinots (and beaujolais) and tempranillos to old world burgundies or big bad syrahs.

A more than adequate exposition, time to dive straight into the tapas menu. The menu is large, consisting of over 40 selections. There is little they don’t serve at Iberica it seems. About the only thing I regret not ordering is the Iberico ham platter – priced at £20 – which is a selection of Extremadura D.O , Guijuelo D.O and Heulva D.O.. Some people think I’m just a snob for my preferance of jamon iberico, but I sincerely do enjoy the deep sweet and nutty flavours it imparts, in addition to the juicy oily layer that accompanies the usually hand carved slices. Oohh, I really regret it now.

Lets kick things off shall we – (L to R) Panfried monkfish parceles with lemon “fritos de pixin” (£9) ; Broken eggs with iberico ham and fried potatoes (£7.50)

The monkfish was alright, the fish was fresh and bouncy, the batter itself was stimulating, but the food got cold quite quickly, and the loss of the sizzly subdued this dish. On the other hand, the broken eggs – which already sounded like a winner on the menu – were fantastic. There was an endearing saltiness that lingered on at the back of my tongue – I am guessing it’s due in part to the deep flavours of the iberico ham combining with the really excellently pan-fried potatoes sitting under the egg. It was wholesome and rich, my favourite dish of the evening.

Next up were the Fried Artichokes with pear alioli (£6.85)

A powdery crisp on the outside, the insides retained much of the original juices – I tasted alot of garlic (a good thing in this case) and the pear aioli was simply divine. Really creamy, really rich, just hints of pear, and smothering the artichokes with the sauce led to one very satisfied LondonEater, and I’m not even a fan of artichokes. The last time I had such a memorable vegetarian tapas was Salt Yard’s courgette flowers, which seemed similar in execution and conception.

Of course, we had to get something from the chef’s special section and chose the Quail with chocolate guanaja, pomegranate and creamy potato€ (£7.80)

Um, I didnt like. First of all, the dish doesn’t look very appetising, and under the low lights in the restaurant, it just looked abit confusing to me. I couldn’t really taste much of the chocolate. While I anticipated sweetness, it was mostly bitter. As for the quail – it was a little gamey but mostly it just tasted deflated to me. I don’t know, I thought this dish was just ill conceived to begin with, it sounded like it could be fantastic on the menu, but in hindsight, it was just gimmicky.

Thankfully, that was about the only bad thing we ate on the night. The ham croquetes (£6, pictured here) was really milky and creamy on the inside, not quite the best I’d had in London (that honor belongs to Cambio..) but better than most.

Right then, on to the meats.

We ordered both pork and beef. Starting with the epic sounding Iberica Pork loin ‘presa’ with tangy herb sauce and confit (£8.30, pictured here). It was superbly tender, with a cloud-like texture that you could tear away with just the lightest of bites. Yummy. It was mostly salty, but perhaps just abit too much to the point where I was experiencing abit of bitterness.

Finally, the Grilled beef spare rib “churrasco” with rosemary and garlic (£7.80)

Again, extremely tender and another flavour explosion, but the texture with this one was mysteriously bouncy as opposed to a usual melt away sensation. It was reminiscent of spam, but in a good way. I do wonder if some sort of tenderising powder had been added during the preparation stages, still it tasted good and that’s what matters in the end.

Finally the desserts – Caramelised Spanish Rice Pudding (£3.50) and Stewed Nectarine with Cinnamon Ice cream (£3.85)

Both puds were exquiste, in particular the rice pudding which Mark said tasted as good as the best rice puddings he’s had in Barcelona. Andy who runs Spittoon also has high praises for iberica’s rendition of this particular recipe. As for the stewed nectarine, well it was equally fantastic, and the lasting memory of the airy cinnamon ice cream lingers on as I reflect on the meal…

…All in all, I quite enjoyed Iberica. There were alot of positives, flavours were mostly in the right places and I came away feeling satisfied with the meal in general. It probably hasn’t knocked Cambio off my top list, as I feel that the cooking lacks the epic clinical touch, though, I have a feeling this is probably deliberate, as they’ve probably saved the theatrics for the posher eatery – Caleya – which resides in the same building. Don’t get me wrong though, food is still tasty and Iberica definitely comes highly rated. I think we experienced a proper taste of Spain what with it being a packed out Monday night and with most of the diners speaking Spanish. Our bill came to £85 plus two glasses of wine and service, it is just a tad over the budget, but overall food tastes good, portions are significant, and it’s definitely a place, I would go back again.

When you go, make sure you try the broken eggs.

The Gist of It

Iberica official site £35pp
195 Great Portland Street
Tel: 02076368650
Tube: Great Portland St

More pictures of the meal here.

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Tapas Brindisa official site
18 Southwark St
Southwark, SE1 9
£7 Tapas

Brindisa, brindisa, brindisa. Yeah, they’re on to their third one now, perhaps the most respected name in Spanish food, ‘Brindis’ is ‘to make a toast’. Something I tell everybody, Spanish is my favourite cuisine, and I was more than happy to have finally made the trip to ‘brindis’ at their borough market kitchen.

(NB: Tapas porntography ahead)

Spanish Brindisa

I remember the first time I walked into a tapas restaurant, its still there, even though I hadn’t been back in oh, about four years. Café Espana on Old Compton Street – anybody been there recently? They used to do these really hearty dishes of garlic casserole chicken that made my knees go weak.

That virgin experience has since been eclipsed many times over, I appreciate the idea of feasting on several small delights, perhaps that’s just me and my binge like tendencies.

Right then, tap water please.

Curing it

Apparently Franco Manca get their chorizo from Brindisa. As a food supplier then, its no surprise to find an embarrassment of cured meats on the menu, oh I love my cured meats, especially jamon iberico. I was aiming for a quick lunch after browsing Borough market, so I balked at the £22 asking price for an order of their finest acorn fed jamon. Instead I plonked for the Salcichon de Vic at a more pleasing £4.20

Supposedly a traditional Catalonian recipe, it was generously dosed with olive oil and cracked with black pepper, indeed the silky saltiness really was quite appetising. Oh yummy, this is good ham.

Lipsmack.

One cured meat was not enough as I also ordered the Cured León beef with pomegranate and frisee salad, priced at £5.75. Any salty cured meat balanced against those mini pomemgranate juice explosions is a winner. This one tasted like it was doused with abit of garlic oil, a fruity sweetness and an appetising way to start the meal, my tummy is suitably greased.

Liverol

In the words of JRR Tolkien, time for Brindisa to show their quality.

Let me start by saying that I’m not a fan of chicken liver, unlike duck liver which is strangely fragrant, chicken liver just crosses the stinky line for me, so I was sceptical when the better half ordered this dish. Still, in the true spirit of objectivity and in the quest to eat it all, I swallow and refrain from spitting….

Sautéed chicken livers £5.90

…. And my boldness was rewarded with one of the richest toast toppings I’ve ever had. This was just a perfect dish. It was sizzling, the texture was juicy and superiorly moist, as it was liver – the mushiness was only too evident. But it was the big rounded flavours that raised my eyebrows. A dominant garlic palette with a soya-like creaminess and a mouthful of smokiness, it was perfectly appetising. A succinct dish, and just what I was hoping for in terms of a light lunch.

No-follow

The BRN100 pretty much peaked at the chicken liver and quickly plummeted like the FTSE100 as it didnt get any better than this.

Galician Octopus with Potatoes £7

The octopus was rubbery and it tasted like it was made in a La Tasca kitchen. It was under seasoned, the potatoes were flaccid and well, at some point, I felt as if I was munching on tinned octopus. It looked nice though, but this was a major fail in my opinion.

Right then, on to the seafood.

Swordfish with mojo verde and black olives 7.50

The item sounded exciting and exotic. Following the tepid octopus show, I am hoping this last dish will leave me with a good impression of Brindisa. I immediately noticed the bitterness from the char-lines, like it was smoked over cast iron from the dark ages. The able smokiness added depth to the chunky and plain tasting fish, simply seasoned with seasalt. I really liked the sweetish green salsa because it took abit of the bitterness from the fish away. Still a little under seasoned and perhaps just a tad too simple. It did its job as it was quite a light dish, but it didn’t excite like the chicken liver did.

Brindisi

We turned up at 2pm to an overcrowded restaurant and returned at 3pm to be seated. Such popularity must mean that they are doing something right… right?

Well, yes and no. My experience was favourable, but it fell below expectatations. True enough, the produce is premium quality; the hams and the oils used tasted like sainsbury’s finest (not quite sure that’s a compliment), but there were just a few faults in the execution of the dishes. I was a litte surprised that they couldn’t get the octopus right, and I think they might have to go back to cooking school to tweak their grilling methods. Having said that, the chicken liver on toast was remarkable, and for that alone, its worth the price of admission.

Tapas Brindisa might be in danger of becoming too popular for its own good. It really fell below expectations, although having said that, it was still a very slick experience altogether. I have had better tapas in London, certainly Brindisa is up there with the rest of them, but if I had to choose, Brindisa probably won’t come first.

The Gist of It

Tapas Brindisa official site
18 Southwark St
Southwark, SE1 9
£7 Tapas
Verdict: The ham was faultness, the chicken liver: inspirational; everything is a question mark.

What about you? Did you agree with my assessment of Tapas Brindisa? Do you think that they are one of the best tapas bars in London?

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I’m almost always unsure  i I should keep the headings simple or come up with something more elaborate to get you to click on it. If you live in London, you will have heard (and read lots of reviews) about this nice little tapas bar in soho, and if you are planning a visit to London soon ( exchange rate as of writing is GBP£1 to US$1.55) then you might fancy paying a visit to one of the slickest tapas bar in the capital.

Spanish Tapas UK style

Some of you will know that my favourite eatery in the city is a Spanish place called cambio de tercio, which I reviewed not too long ago. To quote myself ( sounds abit weird reading it back to myself… there it is again!) , Tapas in the UK is a cuisine in itself , rather than just over-sized bar snacks.

While cambio is a proper restaurant, barrafina is a ‘full-blown’ tapas bar where the eating space is an L-shaped marble table top, complete with burgundy red stools. The restaurant does not seem to take bookings and is almost always constantly packed ( it is pretty small anyway ) . You know, I love things that break tradition , while eating at a bar is not ground-breaking stuff, it does provide for a refreshing change from a more traditional setting. You’ll notice the bright lights and the colourful atmosphere the moment step into this place; I really quite like the setting, even though it’s quite a cosy affair (literally rubbing shoulders with your neighbours) ,  I felt a cool vibe emanating from both the restaurant and the diners alike.

I’m mixing things up a little and am just going to jump straight into food and reflect on the menu last.

Curing my meats, iberico style

There is nothing lovelier than prime spanish iberico ham. If you’ve never heard of it, Iberico is only the finest hams produced in Spain. The pigs are fed on a diet consisting of acorn, nuts & barley. They are allowed to roam the lands freely and are treated like kings, afterwhich, their succelent legs are hung for anywhere between 24 to 36 months. The result of which is a sweet, nutty, oily (but not too oily) and soft texture that melts in your mouth. I love iberico cured meats and I think the concentration of the sweet & savouriness just make it the top ham around ( open to raging debate of course ). The jamon iberico ( which is the finest money can buy) will set you back £17.50 for a plate. Yenni loves chorizo, so we plonked for the more sensible £5.50 platter instead.

In an octopusses’ garden in the sky

Weighting in at £7.50 is the octopus and capers. I love octopus. This one was grilled to perfectly, that is to say it’s just ever so slightly undercooked on the inside and just charred enough on the outside to impart that beautiful smokey flavour. It maintains a succulently soft texture which is a great bite that just melts away as you chew it. I found this to be a relatively simple dish , in that you can actually see all the ingredients on the plate, octopus, capers, paprika, olive oil and salt. Sometimes, there is beauty in simplicity and this was it.

seabass specials

You know a restaurant knows it’s stuff when they offer a smattering of seasonal specials in addition to their standard a la carte. When the waiter introduced the specials, he didn’t point to a board, rather he pointed to the fresh produce resting on a bed of ice ( like it would do in a food market ) and consequently explained how each one is prepared, not forgetting to proclaim that each dish is ‘very nice’ before polishing off his performance with a subtle wink wink. My eyes, however were firmly affixed on the lobster.

There were far too many, but I do remember him recommending a risotto dish cooked in squid ink , some fresh greens and this rather enticing seabass with spinach, which we ordered. As you can see, it’s nicely grilled; though I’m not personally a fan of the seabass because I think the meat is abit dry & chewy for my liking, I tend to prefer my fish flaky and delicate (which is why I enjoy cod) . Although having said that, the spinach soupy base that the fish sits in, for want of a better word, moisturises it nicely and gives it a juicy profile which is both hearty & rich at the same time.

Yet another simple dish where the flavours are uncomplicated as there doesn’t seem to be any hidden ingredients at play… actually correction, a nudge nudge from Yenni because there are clear hints of white pepper at play. Sneaky as it were, it does give this dish a good kick.

chicken supreme

As the saying goes, chicken tastes rather like chicken. I don’t normally order the faithful poultry, however on this occasion I made an exception; maybe it’s because Yenni is tagging along on for this write-up, but perhaps it’s more the fact that this one is done in a saffron sauce and a parsnip puree. That indeed sounds a lovely combination and besides, anything that is pureed has got to be good, right?

Oh yes, the saffron is not immediately recognisable ( no perfumery smell ) , instead I was getting a hearty chicken casserole steaming into my head, but the taste, oh it really blew me away. This one really surprised me, firstly the meat is so delicate & soft that it just fell away as my knife poked into it. The first bite and there was this rich savoury taste which came through. I think I’m tasting sweet onions & garlic , this is just really good chicken that you would expect from your best friend’s grandma’s secret forty year old recipe passed down from the generations ( Mike, she gave me ‘memories’ … and no, not that kind. ) . The parsnip puree lends even more sweetness & colour to an already rich palette of flavours, overall just a stunning chicken dish…. and for only £6.50 ( I say only..) , I could eat this all day.

omelet du tortilla?

We ended the meal with a ham & spinach tortilla. I’ve had too many overcooked and overdone omelets in my lifetime but I’ve also had alot of perfectly cooked eggs to know that you want the outside to be sizzling and crispy, but the inside should be steamy, creamy and rich. I think that the omelet here is a tad dry, didn’t quite blow me away as I was expecting it to taste alot more than ‘just eggs’, because it really did look appetising. Alas, at £5.90 you really can’t complain, it was good, just not great.

…and we are back at one

There were lots more I wanted to try such as the lamb cutlets or the quail eggs and how about those pork chops with cauliflower puree. Everything on the menu is simple, straightforward and is composed of ingredients which would appeal to most tastes. All this and I haven’t even got round to desserts yet.

Personally, I think the prices are actually OK for London , though some have said that for relatively simple cooking, it’s abit steep. My theory is as long as the cooking is spot-on, I’m happy to paying extra (within reason of course) .

Whether it is or not, I leave that for you to decide, but there is abundant evidence that Barrafina is a bit of a stunner. Many bloggers out there share my enthusiasm ( such as this american in london and Abby who eats the right stuff ) and I suppose I can see where the attraction comes from; It’s just damn good cooking going on.

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Crispy fried calamaries, sliced for convenience, dressed with black squid ink and garnished with lime. Simple, effective, appetising. By now, I’m ready for oxtail and apple foam.

Seven reviews in search of that dish, the question must have crossed your mind: What is London Eater’s absolute favorite?

It’s time I address that question. My favorite dish might be a japanese-peruvian recipe, but if I had to choose one place…

West London in Spain

My first brush with Spanish food was a nice little eatery called Cafe Espana on Old Compton Street in Soho. It was there, I was first introduced to tapas, sangrias and paellas. I have this friend who was fascinated by Spanish culture; she loved the food, the language, the movies, the men (sorry, I had to be cheeky).

While she gawked at everything else, I savoured the garlic chicken casserole and patatas bravas. the Spanish indeed eat well and I was converted.

Good things come in small sizes

Tapas are small dishes to share. They come in the cold varieties, ham & olives and also the hot ones, fish in sauce, chicken in garlic, you get the picture.

As with all things anglicised, some of it kind of gets lost in translation. I’m told that in Spain, the tapas concept is completely different to what we have over here. In Spain, its more like bar nibbles to compliment the drinking. We have roasted peanuts, they have calamaries, olives and warm bread.

Over here, UK tapas is a full blown cuisine. Faux-cuisine, unauthentic, in-genuine, call it what you like, for me there’s only good food and lousy food.

The setup

It’s a lovely space, I go on about a restaurant having soul alot, this place is kind of where that started.

The moment you enter the restaurant, it’s like you’ve stepped into another world. The vibrant walls are decorated with beautifully striking portraits complete with Spanish flair. The staff whizz around the restaurant with enthusiasm and vigor. Lowly-lit, candles, black wooden doors and a well-dressed service. It’s abit like showing up for a west end show where the ambiance gushes out to you.

If you can, ask for a table right at the back. The back tables are overseen by a skylight which adds to the atmosphere.

Menu Speak

The a la carte is separated into the tapas section, which doubles as appetisers, and a more traditional mains section. All the mains can be ordered as a tapas, which is basically a half portion for half the price.

I would say food here is quite progressive, however it builds on classical spanish dishes. Kind of like a cool remake of a classic movie, think Ocean’s Eleven. The mainstays are premium ingredients with big flavours. They include croquettes with a bechamel sauce and made with fine spanish ham, lightly fried calamaries sometimes with a whipped garlic mayo, slow cooked and then caramlised ox-tail, hake with cockles & mussels and also a very nicely roasted fillet of beef.

One thing to note is that the food is regularly updated to reflect the latest ‘trends’ in the industry. For instance, there was a time last year where it was the craze to do away with light sauces and bring in foams (more on this later on). Though I tend to think of them as constantly evolving to fine-tune their recipes. It’s like an artist slowly adding brush strokes to his masterpiece in an never ending quest for perfection.

If there’s such a thing as perfection.

I’ve had enough poetic gloss, its time to eat

I took my mate Jon (again) and we decided to go tapas style. I’m a big fan of tasters & sampling. It lets me discover without stuffing myself silly. Correction, I still stuff myself silly but with more variety.

This actually brings my attention to Jason Atherton’s Maze, which I think, is similar to Cambio. But that is for another meal and another post.

The first dish were the croquettes, deep fried with serrano ham and bechamel. It is served with a red tomato paste. The pictures don’t do it justice, its gently deep-fried, but really crispy. The filling made me go weak. I always say balance of flavours is key to any great dish. Cambio is all about balance. It’s savoury, appetising, but not too salty and at the same time, everything is smooth, just so creamy and smooth. Not bloaty creamy, but light gentle creamy.

That’s one thing about great chefs, they can make simple food smooth. If you’ve had great food you will know what I mean. The moment it hits your lips, everything feels just right.

The sweet spot

Char-grilled octopus is nicely flamed to give that smokey taste, wonderfully tender yet bouncy at the same time. However, the best part of the dish:

The potato puree.

It marries nicely and compliments the octopussy (it is not a typo) flavour with stunning results.

Think blended potatoes, so fine that its a consistent paste. But its so well binded together that it has the texture of a solid mash, with the fluidity of double cream. I know it sounds abit ridiculous, but it really is that good. It’s just the way the chef pairs and compliments flavour upon flavour, like building a house of cards, delicately balanced, when it all comes together in harmony, it’s like opera. Symphonic and totally edible. Finished off with olive oil and sweet paprika, ladies and gentlemen:

This is the dish.

Foaming it

Next on the list was caramilsed oxtail with fresh green apples and apple foam.