Pizzaro. One of a select group of individuals who masterminded the transformation of the Spanish perishable importer into a synonym for the British definition of a Tapas restaurant. He is a huge reason why we are so comfortable with the idea of sharing small plates of food, and thanks to the sheer dependability of the Brindisa restaurants he helped create over the last few years, his efforts has shaped this category of London restaurants.

Yes, it is about the right time for José Pizzaro to his name on the signage and he has decided to do so by splitting it into two discreet projects. The latter is slated for a late October debut, a more civil sit-down affair that will formally bear his last name, Pizzaro. Until the real party arrives however, we have to make do with a sneak preview of his cooking with this teeny tapas bar situated in the heart of Bermondsey street, casually known as ‘José’.

The space is seriously tiny, it’s like a food truck, except you eat with the chef inside the claustrophobic environs. It’s got bags of ambiance, and it is hugely popular at the moment. The lack of floor space (and chairs) is perhaps accidentally on purpose, it fills up by 6pm (on Friday nights, and every other balmy night, I imagine) and perhaps also accidentally on purpose, the casual exclusivity of this place is what has made it so damn popular.

José is not a restaurant, as you will have read from the overloaded internet press, this is a bar which incidentally serves quality tapas, and since there are no sit-down tables, it operates a no bookings policy.

In the dying days on summer, I finally got to José early enough to squeeze into an unoccupied corner by the bar. It was a warm day, but it was warmer inside. Space was so limited, I ate this meal standing up, rubbing bums with the woman behind me (curiously, her bum did not seem to mind), our bodies becoming increasingly sweatier, our laughs increasingly louder as the alcohol levels in our bloodstreams climbed and our hands getting increasingly dirtier as we tucked into the wave of small dishes.

Padron peppers, £4.00

Most of the dishes were quite elemental and invited you to use your hands.

Pisto, duck egg, £6.00

Much like enhanced versions of bar snacks, but where stewing or braising was involved, like this tomato and courgette stew that accompanied a fried duck egg for instance, it was brilliant. Satisfying bread dipping stuff.

Clams, fino, jamon, £7.00

Where less cooking was involved, like these bittersweet clams, it still went down a treat, One could smell the bubbling alcohol rising from the light broth, which also made for a fantastic bread dip. Heady.

Squid, romesco, £7.50

A cracking romesco! More paste than sauce, chopped nutty bits (almonds perhaps) , garlicky, full, rich, invitingly appetising – I though this was a stunning example of a retro recipe that is seeing a kind of resurgence in restaurant cooking today. Really nice.

Hake, garlic aioli, £6.00

Fried fish with a good whack of aioli was alright, but I ran out of bread by this point, and I didn’t really want to pay for more bread (£2.00) , but it was nice.

Iberico pork fillet, £9.50

Cooked medium rare (a la plancha, most likely) and with some sprinkles of paprika, it came unseasoned, but what it really needed were just a few sprinkles of rock salt to really bring out the excellent quality of the pork. Grilled iberico fillets are also something that’s coming into fashion these days, it’s so tender, fragrant and rich in flavour that aside from some heat, little else is needed. This was just served pretty much naked.

We paid exactly £50 for two. I must say, it was a little hard to concentrate on the excellent snippets of food, especially since the narrow bar table can only take three or four dishes at one time, any more, and there leaves very little elbow room. It gets trickier as neighbouring diners are constantly rubbing up against one another, with all the movement, it did feel like I was trying to have a meal on a moving bendy bus. Between spreading romesco on bread and putting it in my mouth, there were a few instances where my food was in danger of being knocked from its intended trajectory. As much fun as it was eating standing up, sweating and licking my fingers, I actually wished I ordered less food and more beer, or at least had managed to fight for a larger corner in the bar with stools. As a bar, it’s fucking brilliant, a couple of Alhambras here, a couple of plates of jamon iberico there, a template for the perfect way to usher in the weekend.

Make no mistake, the godfather of tapas is back, but this is merely a herald for greater things to come, the flashes of brillance in his recipes were inspiring, and I really cannot wait to see what sort of grand design he is planning for the launch of Pizzaro. I do wonder if Chef José has set this up as a testing ground to tinker with his fundamentals before official roll-out at his restaurant. Whether this is a mere incidental observation, or completely on purpose, I for one think that the kitchen is headed down a very exciting path. As it stands, Abel Lusa’s restaurants are still my favourite Spanish restaurants, Cambio de Tercio and Capote y Toros included, but I suspect I may have the same sentiments about Pizzaro before the year is over. Only time will tell. Pizzaro is coming, and I am insanely looking forward to that.

The Deets.

José
Tapas bar £25pp.
104 Bermondsey Street SW1 3UB
Tube : London Bridge

You love it. TO , Guardian , Metro , 12.5 , Lussorian , The London Bite , No Expert , Wine & Jazz

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My favourite London restaurant is Cambio de Tercio. I think Abel Lusa’s fabulous, often times adventurous and sometimes experimental change of pace to Spanish cooking is the best representative of the cuisine to grace the Big Smoke. This is my most frequented restaurant in London, since my first visit in 2004 (or 05, around then) when I moved to West London. In fact, it was one of the first reviews (the 3rd one if I’m not mistaken) I’d written when I started this blog.

I would like to think that I’ve eaten pretty much everything on its menu; witnessing some of its mainstay dishes – like the oxtail – evolve over time. I remember the days when I used to visit as frequently as my monthly paychecks. Heck, I even remember the days when Tendido Cero – the tapas bar opposite the street from Cambio – was attractive because it was BYO, and extremely cheap, by Kensington standards anyway.

Since I moved to North London last year, my former neighbourhood restaurant, has now become a pilgrimage, and returning to Old Brompton Road to sample the finest in (London based) Spanish cuisine, is ever more a treat. In the time since my move from West London, Abel had opened Tendido Cuatro in Parsons Green – a tapas bar which I will visit sometime in the coming weeks – but for now, it gives me great pleasure to return to Old Brompton Road to visit Abel’s newest venture: Capote y Toros.

This one is a bit of a departure from the serious Spanish cooking, in that the spotlight is shifted to sherries: In the glass, in the cooking and in the pudding. They boast forty or so sherries to choose from by the glass, and even more by the bottle. Sherry bars, appear to be the darling of the town at the moment. A swift google search will return more than a handful of pleasing reports of Capote y Toros. Summer is round the corner after all.

Those of you familiar with Cambio, will have noticed the matador paintings hung on the quirky painted theme of black, orange and pink walls. At Capote y Toros, the owner’s apparent passion for the sport is more pronounced than ever. In place of paintings, the walls are adorned with photographs, strong portraits, some in vibrant colour and others in eerie high contrast monochrome. The reference to the sport is even in its name, Capote y Toros is for Cape & Bulls. The ambiance is rockier, unhinged, raw, raunchous and zero ponce is involved. It’s about a return to the roots kind of thing.

Sherry time!

Flight of sherries, £12.50 for 5 x 50ml.

This was a real treat, and an education! My knowledge of sherry is about as deep as a puddle of water in the desert, but thankfully we were given a nicely summarise sheet explaining the five glasses of sherry which were brought out through the evening to match whichever tapas we were eating. I’ll try to reference them, as I work through the dish descriptions, but the first couple of glasses we started with were the paper dry, golden hued Manzanilla and the more balanced straw coloured fino. Unsurprisingly, the subsequent sherries would get darker in colour, and also more intense in flavour.

Pickled, preserved & cold

Iberico Sanchez Romero C’s ’5Js’ (£14) and assorted iberico charcuterie & cured cecina from Leon (£12).

In Abel’s own words, the Sanchez Romero 5Js are ‘Spanish caviar’ , and the pride of Cape & bulls are proudly displayed hanging from the ceilings wrapped in black cloth adorned with the 5J stamp. The jamon had delicate, olive rich flavours, nutty and genuinely addictive. Then again, any Iberico de bellota is guaranteed to be orgasmic anyway. Even more so when had with the two glasses of quickly diminishing fino and manzanilla. In addition, we also had an assortment of other cured cuts (from Iberico pigs of course) including the lomo (shoulder I think) and also slices of cecina (beef).

Baby anchovies marinated with Palo Cortado Vinaigrette , £4.50.

The next couple of dishes – cold – were accompanied by Amontillado; a fino but which was darker and stronger, and fortified with extra alcohol to a whopping 17.5%. This one was juicy and datey and less papery than the preceding sherries. You can kind of tell the colour differences in the photograph above between the fino (on the left) and the Amontillado.

Carpaccio of Duck Liver, reduced Pedro Ximenez, £6.50.

As the meal progressed, it wasn’t difficult to notice that most dishes were made with a version of sherry, and also how each of the dishes seemed to pair well with a recommended sherry.

Presented as carpaccio of foie, we thought this was the dish of the night. Sweetened with a reduced sauce of honeyed Pedro Ximenez, crusted in rock salt, and with a buttery smooth texture, like a parfait, a cameo appearance of the masterful skill in execution which is such a trademark of the cooking at Cambio de Tercio.

Chilled Andulucian Gazpacho, £4.00.

Decadent slices of duck liver mousse were followed by a bright and zesty cup of gazpacho. Mmm… so earthly and fresh..my palate be cleansed!

Fish

Moving on to the fish dishes, the waiter brought out the Oloroso. Even darker in colour and even more bone dry, I think. Truth be told, by now, I could hardly tell the difference.. I was well and truly tipsy by this point.

Garlic Prawns, £6.00.

Oh right of course, sweet, garlicky and wet prawns – no Spanish meal is complete without prawns.

Galician Octopus, Potato, Sweet Paprika, £6.75.

Exactly like Cambio, the bitter goey flavours, the slithery, oily textures, the smell of paprika, all except for the pureed potatoes. This is one of my favourite dishes at Cambio de Tercio, and I’m glad it’s on the Capote menu as well.

Roast cod in sobrasada, chorizo crust, courgettes carpaccio, £7.75.

Simply well cooked fish, that is only ever so slightly underdone in the centre. While not as deft in execution as CdT, it was still a remarkable plate of tapas.

Meat

With the meat dishes, came the most prized of the flight – the Palo Cortado. This sherry is a rarity in itself, with fewer than 2% of all Jerez production actually maturing into this wine. Slurp, slurp.

Meatballs “Palo Cortado Fragance” from Jerez, £4.75.

The sauce was dizzying good, tasting of roasted peppers cuddling those meatballs.

Piquillo Peppers stuffed with ox tail “Al Oloroso” , £6.50.

This was classy, babyfood textures of oxtail stuffed inside piquillo peppers. One can only hazard a guess that the sauce in this dish is similar to the meatballs sauce. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed this one, hardly any chewing was involved. I washed down the oxtail with my glass of Palo Cortado.

Iberico Pork Cheeks cooked “Al Oloroso Dulce” Potato Cream, £6.50.

Really salty, and cunningly intense. The cheeks were pillow soft, all this richness cried out for lots of bread and even more sherry to balance out all that flavour.

Sweets

To finish, a glass of Pedro Ximenez, of course.

Mousse of sweet oloroso sherry, caramalised figs, £4.75.

I have always felt that CdT’s weakness were in their puddings, but on this showing, it would appear that things have changed. The sherry mousse, light as a feather, and sweet like white chocolate. It was an apt way to end the meal, considering the vibrancy of the dishes that came earlier.

Lemon and Moscatel sweet wine sponge and strawberries, £4.75.

But this was the winner. Sponge cake soaked in sweet wine, sinful.

Cambio de Tercio is still the jewel in Abel Lusa’s galaxy of restaurants, but Capote y Toros is an enticing addition to the diffusion of the brand. The quality of cooking is almost as slick as CdT and ultimately gratifying, the atmosphere in this narrow space is gut-bustingly intoxicatingly, and the sherries are deceptively easy to knock back. Picture the kitchen, whiffs of sherry floating in the air, evaporated from the cooking, resulting in merry chefs with opened bottles of the finest Jerez in one hand, and sauce pan in the other, it is no accident then that every other dish is spiked with sherry. How brilliant an idea it is then to use the best of Spanish cuisine as a vehicle to facilitate the appreciation of sherry. Absolutely genius.

The Gist of It

Capote y Toros
Sherry & Tapas & Jamon, £40pp
157 Old Brompton Rd SW5 0LJ
Tel: 020 7373 0567
Tube : Gloucester Road

Sherring: Time Out London ; Metro ; ES ; Jake and Jacki ; Sabrina’s Passions ; 12.5% ; Wine and the City

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I shan’t patronise you with a protracted preamble about the intertwined fate of how tapas became part of the culinary landscape of London (something which you no doubt are already well acquainted with), and simply get straight to the point: This is a rather perfect London tapas restaurant.

Hardly anything else was expected, considering Simon Mullins and Sanja Morris-Mullins, the owners, are also the brilliant minders behind 2005′s Salt Yard and 2008′s Dehesa. Ah, I see. So we shall expect another superb Mullins tapas bar in say 2014.

The decor is spell bindingly beautiful. Spread across two floors, in a once former 19th century built pub. All that dark wooden furniture cutting lovely shades of shadows around the food (and your dining partners), coupled with a contemporary, light-hearted approach to service, equals a formidable ambiance.

Anyway, you can read about history elsewhere, let’s skip ahead to the food.

Ibérico Pig’s Head Terrine £4.00

As the ingredient suggests, the terrine was gelatinous, unctuous, slippery and full of rich, salted pork goodiness. A champion terrine, no two ways about it.

Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, aged 5 years, Castro y González, Castilla-Leon £14.95

Five years? Yowza, that’s old pork leg. I think three years usually qualifies for the top grade of gran reserva, so I assume the older the better. Well I could be wrong. Whatever the case, I am guessing we were served about 75g, so £14.95 was pretty good value. Of course, Iberico ham is always amazing, this was no different really. It’s – how do we say – ‘Spain’s caviar’ afterall.

Italian Style Scotch Egg £3.75

I can’t recall what was so Italian about these. Runny yolk, check, crusty crumbly shell, check, creamy aioli, check. Nice, but you know it’s no Harwood Arms.

Chargrilled Salt Marsh Lamb with Farro, Peas, Broad Beans, Wild Garlic and Goat’s Curd £7.25

I think this dish is representative of the Salt Yard/Dehesa and now Opera Tavern’s delicious appeal. Delicately cooked lamb, juicy and tender, flavours emphasised with goats cheese, a touch of hearty wholesome richness with the peas and farro.

Mini Ibérico Pork and Foie Gras Burger £5.50 EACH.

Ah yes of course, the much lauded pork sliders. I suggest reading Marina of Metro’s description of these baby burgers, indeed as she points out, the ‘almost lubricious juiciness’ of the awesome iberico pork, translates into something more than worthy of the internet worship. Probably a little pricy, but so are most sliders in London.

Although having said that, I personally prefer the beef & bone marrow sliders at Spuntino. It’s just all that melted cheese, is so… visually engaging.

Steamed Sea Bream with Confit Salsify, Monks Beard, Capers and Smoked Anchovy Dressing £6.75

At last, we ended with a serenely steamed fillet of fish, that laid peacefully on a bed of sliced salsify.

The bill including a beer and a glass of wine was £68.63. Ah but you see, if you control that greed, a light tapas lunch with an affordable bottomline, can be reality.

With great hype, come those who will inevitably be disappointed. Such is the complex relationship between restauranteur and opinionated patron. You may read a whole lot of really positive reviews (this one included), but you will also read reports from some who don’t think so highly of Opera Tavern. I thought the food was more or less spot on. Maybe critique exists because this is a form of restaurant that we are already so familiar with. And depending on your predisposition to eating out; it’s either going to be pleasantly familiar or a case of pleasant, but oh so familiar. But I think you might lean toward the former after you visit it. Definitely. Maybe.

Add OT to your list of recommended tapas restaurants. This one – like its heritage – is a keeper.

The Gist of It

Opera Tavern
Perfect Tapas, £40pp
23 Catherine ST WC2B 515
Tel : 0207 836 3680
Tube: Covent Garden

Alot more snaps on my flickr.

Trotters : TimeOut London , Foodie’s Land , The blog about nothing… in London , The Perfect Trough , The critical couple , Andy Hayler , The Skinny Bib

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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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Last weekend I was a tourist all over again. Parading around Soho with bleary eyes, brandishing my camera at whatever piqued my interest… don’t you just love the August bank holiday? One of these years, I swear I will make it to Blackpool.

Situated on Old Compton Street, or what I like to refer to as the Mouth of Soho, Café Espana and I go way, way back; Its one of the first restaurants I’ve eaten at in London, and its been donkey years since my last meal there. Trying hard to entertaining friends who’ve come to London for a holiday, I opted we try Yalla Yalla in a seedy alleyway next to strip joints, but they were closed for the long weekend (so was the seedy strip joint). And then, I reckoned we try Giaconda, but that was also closed for a summer break. A last minute emergency might have pushed me toward Wong Kei, but then I remembered the giant paellas at Café Espana.

So this place is proper vintage right, it’s stuffy and tightly spaced, the head waiter greets guests in their own mother tongue and he selects his greetins from his vast mental library of how to say hello in a million and one languages. On this visit, he guessed correctly with ‘Nei Ho’. He doesn’t remember me though (it must have been at least four years since I last ate here) , but he had opened proceedings before with konichiwa and selamat datang. Oh this is ‘new’ – they have tables upstairs. We sat by the window, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve actually wandered into a restaurant in Chinatown.

Thanks to the likes of whoosh tapas joints such as Barrafina and Boca di Lupo, Londoners are well acquainted with overpriced, microscopic portions. So this throwback tapas restaurant was a welcomed change. The menu is split into many sections, starters, fish, meat, tapas etc but really, its food that can be shared by the whole table.

Starting with the starters, baked eggs with asparagus, red peppers and ham, £3.50.

1956 prices and 1956 portions. It really was £3.50 and its huge. There are two eggs buried in the tomato slushy, and while I would like to say it tasted like the bomb, it didn’t. Underseasoned and much too watery, for the price, it was passable.

Much better was the grilled monkfish and we were also surprised with the size of this dish. The fish is juicy, I think its more pan-fried than grilled, with homely toasted flavours and with just a dash of lemon, there’s no rocket science behind this, just honestly good pan-fried fish.

One of my old favourites from this restaurant is the chicken in garlic. Also cooked with shallots, and probably some wine, this classic dish was well executed, the chicken was juicy and fragrant and for only £3.75, it was unbeatable. We ordered three large grilled sardines – at £2.95 – also very basic but with deep charcoal flavours it got the job done, and also a plate of simply blanched spinach, also at £2.95, to digest all that protein.

I really enjoyed the smoking baby squids (£4.50) , bouncing and bursting with flavours from the deep, and I was slowly but surely filling up as the meal was starting to feel overwhelming, the portions were way too large for three hungry appetites, and we knew we had to doggie bag the rest.

Yes, more grilled meat or I should say, pan fried pork chops. Overcooked and seemingly un-seasoned, it failed to catch my attention at £9.95.

You can just about spot the fish soup at the far right of the picture – £3.50 – its not going to rival the superior Le Cafe Anglais version, but it does come so very close. Saffron fragrant, and chock full of mussels and prawns, like a paella without the rice.

Eight dishes plus two glasses of house red came to £48.60, or £16 for three, and one of the few occasions where I couldn’t sweep up the remnants. All in all, I was pleased with this cheap tapas thrill and I was glad that this place hasn’t lost its sheen. It looks abit like a tourist trap from the outside, but it does offer sheer value for money. I’m also quite happy to be savouring basic flavours once again, and in the dying days of summer, it feels fitting. Café Espana is abit like a Spanish version of Wong Kei sans the crude service; most things taste ok, and it’s affordable. A rare place where ordering less is more. I remember the days when it used to be packed out every weekend, but with the arrival of sleeker tapas restaurants in the area, the popularity of Cafe Espana has dwindled (heck, I haven’t been back in years myself), but at least it is still there, chugging along.

The Gist of It

Cafe Espana
63 Old Compton St W1D 6HT
Tel: 020 74941271
Closest Tube: Leicester Square

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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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Salt Yard official site
54 Goodge St W1T 4NA 020 7637 0657
Tapas £6 – 8 each

The moist potato paste in the salt cod fritters melted in my mouth with loads of umami goodness. The crunch in the crumbly shell, nice. I was led to the basement bit, away from the shimmering sunshine of the Friday afternoon. I’m not alone for this one, C was waiting for me - fiddling with her brand new iphone (ah yes I remember the feeling). We’re suppose to catch up on Metrotwin, my other online commitment, and we’ve both skipped breakfast (cadbury bar for me) for what is rumored to be a heck of a tapas ride. Oh I should mention, Ben – thanks for reading my stuff and this one’s for you. 

The cheese that rocked, with truffle honey.

I saw ‘The boat that rocked’ last weekend and I really enjoyed it. The slaters complained that the film sagged to bore-central halfway through – can’t say I don’t disagree – but I liked the whole pirate radio backdrop. I could really relate to a time when the powers that be (whose embodiement is a certain ’Mr. Twatt’ in the film, yes with great effect – let your imagination run wild) tried to hold back the new wave of social change hitting the country. Back in 1966 – the greatest era, ever – proper radio only played 2 hours of ‘popular’ music. But that’s why 25 million people rocked to pirate radio stations which did 24 hours of it – on a boat, off the coast and just outside of government jurisdiction. They made their own rules about how to rock the nation’s airwaves and it was cool. Damn, there was some good music back then.

Oh yeah, I feel like a pirate food blogger sticking it to AA Gill. I make my own rules and damn there’s alot of cool food blogs around. That’s right, and the truffle infused honey – awesome. Went really well with the £7.50 worth of our trio of Italian hard cheeses. Yeah…. Nah, I love AA Gill, who am I kidding. As Rhys Ifans utters, in a creepy, breath-heavy voice close to his mic: Are you feeling naughty, yet?

The blog that rocked.

I forgot to take a menu with me again, and I’ve forgotten what this lamb neck dish was served with. I’m referring to the grains that came with it. My best guess are that they are farro, which tastes rather like a cross between brown long grain and barley. The entire dish has a moistness - perhaps from a gravy – and a rather intense cream (goats?) cheese. As for the lamb neck, the meat was flavoursome, alittle on the gamey side, served pink, it was as tender as it was spongy. That is to say – it was delicate yet still quite the chewable one.

The Salt behind the Yard.

Salt Yard is abit more than just a straight up Anglicised tapas bar; Chef Ben Tish’s menu is a rather inspired one with Italian and Spanish influences. Abit of interesting blurb on their website suggests they source alot of their produce from small farms across the country, with their beef coming from Wales. Also, they have a ‘strong choice’ of their vegetables suppliers since one of their sig dishes is their goats cheese stuffed courgette flowers stuffed with honey drizzle.

Damn, this one is good. The lightly battered vegetable not unlike a tempura, crispy on the outside and crunchy on the inside; with a full goat cheese flavour that tastes as if it’s enveloped within the honey sauce. The dish is simple and I think that’s why it works.

Let’s go belly up

This review is missing one picture. It’s off the daily specials – a croquetas with a meltingly rich manchego filling, yummy. We also ordered the Confit of ‘Gloucester Old Spot’ Pork Belly with Rosemary Scented Cannelini Beans. Alot of succulence in the meat, alot of slow cooked goodness, the beans are rather mild and made it taste rather like a ham hock. Moistness came in the form of a light broth – and the best part, yup you guess it: cracking crackling indeed.

Thank you C and thank you Metrotwin for yet another awesome lunch. I always feel like we don’t have enough time to bounce ideas off each other whenever we meet.

And when we get to pudding

Before I get too carried away, I like Salt Yard. I think Ben Tish has successfully delivered on his vision of fuss-free dishes for sharing. Being a tapas bar, one kind of expects forward, distinct and uncomplicated flavours and all the dishes I sampled on my visit were umami rich, delicate (where needed) and moist. I’m not sure if the menu changes with the seasons, but the warm and brothy flavours were hearty and this certainly is one of the better tapas bars in London. My benchmark for tapas bars are Tendido Cero and Barrafina; I think Salt Yard just slightly edges out the competition. It definitely wins the war on the price front, with the average dish turning out to be something like seven quid.

For pudding, C ordered a Hazelnut Praline Semi Freddo with William Pears, I had a quick taste and it was like a cold, cheesy and nutty frozen mousse; bit like a kulfi actually. I was rather more conservative and ordered the Rhubarb and Mascarpone Brulee with Orange Caramel. The custard itself is nothing spectacular, but I did enjoy the silky baked rhubarb bits hidden within the brulee, although I would have preferred a little less charring of the sugar crust.

So. I think this has to go on some sort of must-eat list. Salt Yard is good, go with friends, share everything with friends, get a couple of tipples while you’re at it and don’t forget to tell me how it all went down.

The Gist of It.

Salt Yard official site
54 Goodge St W1T 4NA 020 7637 0657
Tapas £6 – 8 each
Verdict: Solid Tapas bar, affordable, perfect place to hang out and share stuff with mates, be forewarned it is tapas at the end of the day, so expect tiny dishes, otherwise it’s a must eat.

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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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