Butter is Better

Well Dressed

2012-02-20T05:29:00.001-08:00

I quite liked my boyfriend anyway and then he made me this...

Inspired my Raymond Blanc's Salade Lyonnaise (which he cooked last week on his 'The Very Hungry Frenchman' TV show). No 12 minute, slow-cooked-til-crisp towering slab of bacon, less herbs and a slight variation on the mustard dressing, but this belter of a salad bridged the time between Saturday brunch and dinner in rather pleasing manner (particularly the sexy oozing of the amber yolk). Merci Raymond!

Coppin' Off

2012-02-14T04:20:00.000-08:00

My totally inability to be on the ball has been well documented in this blog, which is why I am sure it will come to absolutely no surprise that I only ate at Copita last week. My first non-detox, interesting restaurant experience of 2012 was going to be 10 Greek Street, but the cold, the possibility of a queue and the fact that my friends and I were drinking in Glasshouse Stores (much closer to Copita's D'arblay Street location), meant that we ended up here.

Tiny, tiled and suitably tousled - Copita could be part of Russell Norman's burgoening empire but is somehow more interesting because it isn't. It feels like a tapas joint, with high stools, long counters and low-hanging urban light fittings. The staff are frazzled but friendly in a 'busy serving tapas' sort of way and the menu is pleasingly short (though sadly not short enough to order everything on the menu between three). We gave it a go though... prompting our kindly waiter to tell us that we had ordered too much. Having sunk a few rums in the pub before and already well into our bottle of wine, we ignored him.

Far too much fun was being had to pay much attention to names of dishes (or even take shots of everything consumed) but off the top of my head... The spiced carrots were brilliant, roasted til sweet with pleasing hints of cumin and chilli. The chorizo was of excellent quality and delicious when consumed with oil laden chunks of bread. The pea, fresh cheese and truffle croquets lacked seasoning (not helped by no salt on the table) but were perfectly pleasant nonetheless. The crunchy, salty maize snacks with roasted broad beans are my new favourite thing to nibble with wine. The duck tart was a bit soggy but looked pretty. The pumpkin ravioli was a bit richly sweet for me, but was happily wolfed down by the others. The ribs with date (melted into a sticky coating) dripped off the bone *mouth starts to water at the memory*

All in all an impressive spread. Everything did taste oddly sweet and some dishes were under seasoned, but a few squirts of lemon and a sprinkle of salt would sort that right out. With a reasonable wine list, a regularly rotating and genuinely interesting menu, nice staff, a pleasing fizz of an atmosphere and close proximity to my favourite pub in Soho, I suspect this is not going to be my last visit of 2012...

Copita
26/27 D'arblay Street
W1F 8EP

Join The Club

2012-02-13T06:25:00.000-08:00

January was a slow month for me. Sans money and spirit, I was forced to eat at home - which had its blessings and its curses. The obvious curse was no restaurant-based stories to share, but it was also the month that me, my boyfriend and the blender made our own butter, bread and udon noodles (blessing).

Got a bit fat eating double portions of baked beans on the sofa (curse).

Watched a lot of Fabulous Baker Boys (curse/blessing)

Ironic then, in the month in which I always say I'll detox but became too depressed to do anything but put high quantaties of carbs in my gob, my only restaurant experience was a healthy one...

The Cinnamon Club is that posh sounding curry house in Westminster (who doesn't love a fancy curry) to which I had never been until I was invited to try out their Detox Menu which the ran the month of Jan. I think these menus are good. They are less smug than all-year-round healthy restaurants and they cleverly exploit the silliness of the post-Christmas-gahhhhh-i've-piled-on-the-pounds-panic.

The CC is housed in the Old Westminster Library. Despite the imposing space being impressively full, it did not buzz. Perhaps people were whispering less they be told off by the librarian...

Too the menu...

Some amuse bouche, a light curry puff of a thing. Lovely.

Tandoori chicken breast with garlic and coriander, sprouted fenugreek salad.

This was lovely, the lightly spiced chicken marinaded into moist submission with not a hint of fat.

Marinated vegetables with blood orange and sunflower seeds

The second starter was better than it's title promised it to be, crunchy, fresh, full of contrasting textures and again, showing skill with a delicate marriage of flavours.

Kadhai style stir fry of winter vegetables with multigrain roti

This was just a vegetable curry, a very nice vegetable curry but lacked any additional elements to trick you into thinking you were indulging yourself. Good roti though.

Green spiced halibut steamed in banana leaf, chickpea salad

This was the best dish of the night. The fish perfectly cooked, subtly seasoned and perfect with the zingy chickpeas.

Saffron poached pear, pomegranate jelly and goji berry sorbet

Too the most disappointing dish... I love a poached pear but it has to be cooked perfectly: not hard, not mushy. This was hard and no amount of stabbing with a spoon made any difference. Jelly and sorbet were well made, but didn't work on their own.

Seasonal fruits with light lemon grass jelly

Just plain weird. As my boyfriend said, the selection of fruit "looked like it had been slimed, like in Ghostbusters," (and the slime didn't taste of lemon grass to me).

The selection of sweets that concluded the meal and came with tea were delightful (though, I suspect, not part of the detox menu).

Bar the desserts, I thought this menu did everything that a healthy one should, leaving you satisfied but not too full and without any of the guilt that butter (or ghee) laden dishes often bring. I wouldn't do it every night, or even every month. But come next January (bank account willing) when I am pretending to be weight conscious once again, I might spice up the most depressing month of the year with another visit.

The Cinnamon Club
The Old Westminster Library
30-32 Great Smith Street
SW1P 3BU

An Old Favourite...

2011-12-20T10:00:00.000-08:00

My soft spot for Roast was born the same time I discovered Borough Market (for those who don't know, it sits directly above it). Back then I couldn't imagine anything more brilliant than being one of those diners, knife and fork in hand, looking down at piles of over priced artichokes and people queuing for venison hot dogs. For me it was too posh to comprehend and priced unattainably high but I told myself, "One day Lucy, you'll mount those winding stairs and eat with the Gods!"

My stance has, of course, changed somewhat. Through my haggardly cynical lids, I see a restaurant with ugly pillars and bad 90s chairs, which takes itself too seriously for a non-stared Brasserie, and never quite fills it's own loftily spaced boots. I've had meals which were too fussy, some not fussy enough, and food that fails to out way the final cost. Yet I love it.

Sitting at the bar Monday night, stomach satisfyingly fall, glass of wine in hand and a pretty singer with a husky voice belting the blues in the background, I thought of me circa 2005 (the uni years, when my gay husband and I used to sit in the Soho Starbucks, convinced we were the height of sophistication). That 18 year old girl, who used to squeal every time she saw Big Ben, stared at people on the tube and longed to eat in a London restaurant where people tucked in your chair, would have been very impressed...

My scotch egg to start was good, still warm with a layer of well-seasoned pork framing a pleasingly orange yolk. Even better was the baked Dorset crab, bound together with cheese (we laughed in the face of calories and smeared the fishy paste on thickly buttered bread).

Not content that our arteries were sufficiently clogged, we ordered rare, meaty mains of mutton and rib eye. My nicely charred chop was juicy and fat laden, with sweet, ruby meat which I greedily nibbled to the bone (and then sucked). The steak drew nods of approval (I was too focused on my sheep to ask for a try) but soggy chips were ignored. Sides of heritage carrots and brussel tops with chorizo were agreeably crunchy, but so drenched in the yellow stuff, I was beginning to regret my laissez-faire attitude to health. In view of this we decided to opt out of dessert.

As owner, Iqbal Wahhab says on the website, when he opened Roast five years ago, British food was far from a bankable business plan. So there is a lot to be said for its continued success, particularly when you think of the stunning examples in the capital today (Dinner at Heston's anyone?). I'm not even going to pretend that Roast hits the heights of Dinner, or that it is serving cuisine any better than the endless gastro-boozers putting out almost identical menus. If you want traditional English fare in cosy surroundings then Roast is not the place for you. Nor is it, despite the fawning service and coat check policy, refined enough to charge the prices it does.

Annoying, if I was to follow my above advice, I wouldn't eat at Roast. It is overpriced, it's stuffy and, at times, the cavernous space distils any atmosphere which might offset this. But I have eaten there, many times, and those meals are up there with some of my favourite restaurant experiences. The location helps, as does the jazz bar feel of its bar but mostly there this unexplainable charm that comes from the staff who just want to please, and an interior so impressively huge, it demands you to like it. Here is a place that might get it wrong from time to time, but is endearingly earnest enough to be forgiven. Not unlike the green, 18 year old girl who so wanted to get through its doors...

The Floral Hall
Stoney Street
SE1 1TL

Pizarro Pizazz...

2011-12-15T09:03:00.000-08:00

Now I'm not what you'd call a forwardthinker. Once at university I was told that I'm so far inside the box, I mightas well live in it. This goes hand in hand with my ability to pick up a trendonce everyone else stops wearing it and getting to restaurants long after thebuzz has worn off.

Which is why I’m quite beside myself withsmugness that I am, for once, if not ahead of the pack, then at least with it.Pizarro (the newest restaurant from José Pizarro of José andBrindisa fame) has been open for two weeks, and I’d been twice in the firstfour days. Once on launch night. To an actual trendy restaurant with hype.

Now I'm going to take most of the credit forbeing cool but it has to be said, that José sure can puttogether a plate of food. The food is closely followed by a rockin' interior (andby rockin' I mean marvellous marriage of wood, brick and tiles) and hum of goodtimes being had by all. Service was great on both occasions, though admittedlyit helps when those waiting on you possess equal measures of good looks andeasy charm.

We had to wait (around an hour and a halfboth times) but as the atmosphere is so like his other tapasjoints, the standing around felt more pleasure than chore. It does mean you'relikely to sink a bottle of cava before you eat anything however (well I did on bothoccasions anyhow).

So to the eating. Not everything wasperfect but soft launch with 50% off food and booze effectively forgave this. Plus it was opening night and the place was rammed...

Quail

I've only ever had over-cooked quail so thefact I could swallow without water was an excellent start. The sauce was reallygood, full of flavour (though could have done with a punch of chilli).

Artichoke

I bloody love artichoke so there was littlechance of me hating this dish and it ended up being my second favourite of thenight. The tastes going off in my mouth (toasted cumin, soft artichoke, sharpbut creamy cheese) made me very happy indeed.

Squid

Bar calamari (deep frying anything inbatter makes it good) squid is another of those foods that often gets over-zealously cooked. This was exceptional in that regard. My fussy friend and fellowblogger Eyes Bigger Than My Stomach confirmed this was cooked to perfection and “notbad at all.”

Lamb

The lamb looked a touch past pink and, as aresult, was a little chewy. However it was the lambiest lamb ever, each chompreleasing more flavour.

Partridge

Only dud of the night. Served in a ceramicshallow dish, the dry bird sat on some watery beans in an under seasoned stock.Less roasting of the bird and more reducing of the jus and this could beimpressive.

Pork

My mouth has been filling with saliva at randomintervals at the memory of these rare strips of super pig. Keepdescribing it to friends as the sexiest tasting bacon I have ever been luckyenough to put in my mouth.

Chocolate Toast

Wasn't sure about this one at first, butended up ordering this simple, but blindingly clever dessert on both visits. Combininga bit of the 'toast', butterscotch ice cream and nutella-like sauce felt likechildhood.

Rice pudding

Cinammon-laced, creamy rice great. Sharp clementinetoo bitter.

By thetime we ordered on Thursday, the Croquetas were sold out. To my delight,they were back on Sunday and soothing in a way that only ham and cheese based bites canbe. We also tried the sweet potato starter with chunks of blue cheese (safe but nice combo), the hake with black cabbage which was a touch bland (silly as the stock,cabbage and potatoes on which it sat sang with salty flavour) and an extremelygood vanilla ice cream, draped in booze laden grapes.

I've met José a couple of times and he's probably one of the nicest chefs in the business. This is evident at Pizarro which oozes comfort, warmth and a total lack of pretention (much like his brilliant croquetas). There are manyrestaurants that buzz, there are many restaurants with cool, but there are veryfew that personify the loveable charm of their creator so effectively.

194 Bermondsey Street
London
SE13TQ

Nic Picking

2011-11-28T07:15:00.000-08:00

Department store eateries are not usually my thing. Regardless of the establishment, they just remind me of eating dry fish fingers aged six in the BHS cafe with me mam. But an invite to breakfast is an invite to breakfast. And where better to overcome a fear of plastic tables and ladies in hair nets, than at Harvey Nics?

She's only gone and had a make over, her first in 20 years. A lovely lick of lemon and a smattering of smoked wood's made the old girl good as new (well, new in a retro-looking way). Being my maiden voyage to the fifth floor, I had no point of comparison but the light-filled room sailed past my expectations.

Service was impressive too, particularly our slightly camp waiter (I warmed to his show smile and expressive hand movements), as was the roof top smoking area (do love a fag with a view).

We kicked off with beverages. I was slightly disappointed the pot o' tea was from a bag but, being a PG Tips girl at heart, got over it pretty quickly. What I couldn't get over was the apple, carrot and ginger juice (it had a name, something to do with glamour) which was sweet but not cloyingly so and packed a gingery punch. Usually I rely on caffine to jolt me into the day, but this juice launched me into the rest of the week.

I enjoyed my prettily arranged fried egg on a mound of sauced up chorizo, despite the fact the too tart tomato sauce overpowered the taste of sausage and rendered the sour dough soggy. Eggs and chorizo makes for a pleasing morning mouthful, but I prefer the baked version with crunchy toasted sour dough on the side for dipping (Caravan in Exmouth Market does this horrendously well). My companion liked his Eggs Benedict, but questioned the twist of replacing the english muffin with a slice brioche (I don't care for hollandaise so I really couldn't comment).

The Fifth Floor Cafe at Harvey Nics is most certainly one up on your usual department store offerings (unless your locals are Harrods and Selfridges). But for me, despite its floor-to-ceiling windows, jazzy waiters and clout delivering juices, it still had a whiff of BHS about it. I can confirm from the website that it's tables are made from wood, but my memory refuses to see anything but formica...

Fifth Floor Cafe and Terrace

Harvey Nichols

109-125 Knightsbridge

SW1X 7RJ

Tap It Up

2011-11-23T06:12:00.000-08:00

Carom was a pop up at Meza but due to its success (the concept is ‘casual plates for sharing’) it is now a permanent fixture in the Wardour Street bar-cum-restaurant-cum-nightclub, which includes Meza and Floridita. I’ve never been one for Floridita, mostly because salsa is my idea of hell, but the idea of Indian tapas (my words not theirs) is an appealing one.

As we were seated in a private booth (great for first date snogging) and began to peruse the menu, the rather jolly restaurant manager Pradeep filled us with fun food facts. Booths aside I was apathetic to the interior. As you enter the building there’s a brothel-like lipstick red lounge area to your left, Carom is tucked at the other end of the curving bar by the toilets. Touches of ‘India’ – a few ornate brass lamps, an embroidered strip of fabric on the tables – feel a bit transitory. But interior smeria, as long as the food’s good (which it was) you could seat me in a padded cell and I wouldn’t complain. One thing I didn’t like was the fussy service. To be fair to the staff it was a slow Monday night and I am used to pubs where you have to order at the bar, but door opening and constant water filling just makes me feel uncomfortable.

What makes me feel very comfortable however is cocktail hour, so the arrival of something alcoholic and mango flavoured filled me with cheer (as did the tiny poppadoms with pineapple, berry and tomato chutneys). The ordering of the food was taken out of our hands by the lovely Pradeep who, God bless him, sent almost every dish on the menu. He also recommended a very good Argentinian white (Torrontes, Tilia, Mendoza, Argentina 2010). As I’m a wine spaz I won’t attempt to describe it, but it did go right nice with the spice.

Everything we had to start was good: plump and kicky tiger prawns ‘Dakshin’ and spice encrusted lamb cutlets which covered all the t’s (tasty, tender and tremendous). I loved the puffed rice salad or ‘Bhelpuri’ (a street food snack, served all over India) which looked and tasted a bit like an upmarket Bombay mix and added some welcome texture. The Anglo-Indian fish cakes came with a neat story, apparently in the time of the Indian Empire us philistine English used to get the Indian chefs to cook fish and chips. Once we’d had our fill of home grub, the chefs would take home the leftovers, mix it with spice and make these fishcakes. Well industrias they were.

Mains were as good if not better. Silky salmon ‘hariyali’ (a mint and coriander based marinade) fell apart at the merest poke of a fork and goan beef was thick with heat hinting spice. Sides of bread and rice were exemplary, particularly the South Indian flaky bread (somewhere between roti and naan with added elastic). But best were a coconut-creamed sea bass curry, marrying punchy ginger with syrupy mango and a black lentil dahl which quietly surpassed everything else on the menu.

Ignoring our protests, Pradeep insisted on sending a plate of fruit (is it just me or is dragon fruit pretty but tasteless?) and saffron infused custard to go with our fresh mint teas, which was a pleasingly light end to a rather big meal.

Soho is notoriously full of brilliant restaurants which cater to every whim. You want small plate buzz? Go to Spuntino or Polpo. Great noodles? Koya. Beruit street food? Yalla Yalla. The list goes on and on. And now, if you want a good plate of Indian tapas, a cocktail and a smiley, story-spouting restaurant manager, you have Carom.

100 Wardour Street

W1F 0TN

An Eye For Pie

2011-11-21T04:41:00.000-08:00

I do love a weekend in the country, particularly when there's a country pub involved. Sensing some serious eating ahead, I did the goody two shoes bit and ran the four mile perimeter of nearby Daventry Country Park first (if you ask me, exercise should only ever be used to engage appetite). Which meant, by the time we arrived at The Olde Coach House in Ashby Saint Ledgers, I was starving and in the market for something hearty. And by something hearty I mean a big fat pie...

OCH's 'proper' Steak and Ale Pie

A quick scan of the menu and my greedy eyes found what they were looking for. I was especially excited by the inclusion of the word 'proper' (nothing like a cocky adjective to instil faith in one's cooking). Some time and a nice glass of house white later, the glossy mound of potato, pastry and protein arrived. I dived into the slab of buttery shortcrust pastry, meaty gravy and thick threads of silky beef with gusto. Piled on a cloud of creamy mash and dotted with crunchy veg, this comforting plate of food was everything I adore about well made, pub grub. Just glorious.

Duo of Pork

Never able to resist anything pig-based, my boyfriend went for the Duo of Pork, a ubiquitous slab of pork belly and 'home made' faggot. Whilst he focused on the abdomen, I honed in on the sexy ball of offal. (Mmmmmm, porky dirty goodness). He found the meat a little chewy but positively raved about the celeriac rosti and roasted beetroot (an evil glutton stole his faggot and enjoyed it immensely).

Bf's dad had the Cod and Chips which looked suitably crisp and received positive grunts of approval and Bf's mum (being a knowing soul) joined me in a plate of pie.

We bravely took the proffered dessert menus but were defeated in the face of fullness. But as I've been day dreaming about the lost Vanilla Poached Pear Compote and Gingersnap Tart ever since, I'll be running an extra mile next time...

The Olde Coach House

Main Street

Ashby St.Ledgers

Rugby

Warwickshire

CV23 8UN

What a Tart...

2011-11-15T05:32:00.001-08:00

I quite liked my boyfriend anyway and then he made me this...

A crisp, buttery base and the apples, my god the apples. Sweet, chewy and perfectly caramelised, these cox's were treated right nice and served with a dollop of Waitrose's Extra Thick Jersey Cream. Pure Sunday afternoon food heaven (I ate a third, obvs.)

A Curry in Surrey...

2011-10-28T03:11:00.000-07:00

Walking up hilly, dark country lanes is not my usual path to curry, generally that involves calling my local, Indelicious (brilliant name, equally brilliant Chicken Dhansak) or jumping on the ELL to Whitechapel and the legend that is Tayyabs (mmmm... lamb chops). But a generous offer, particularly one that involves paneer, must be met with gumption and thus we hopped (cycled), skipped (train) and jumped (walked) our way to India Dining in Warlingham, Surrey.

The restaurant looked like a high-end Indian (lots of leather and up lights) and the menu read like one too (Venison, Guinea Fowl, Soft Shell Crab). Service was attentive, the 'Indian Mojito' cocktails mintily delicious and the food... well there was lots of it. We sampled crisp spiced crab, sweet stuffed paneer, melting lamb shanks, creamy scallops, fiery aubergine and reassuring potato-stuffed paratha. As we ate and drank on their hospitality, I shall not even feign objectivity (free food = good). I will say that, once the war with transport was won, we enjoyed our jaunt to the country immensely.

India Dining

6 The Green

Warlingham

Surrey

CR6 9NA

01883 625 905

With a Little Coaching...

2011-10-17T06:43:00.000-07:00

Things were not looking good for the Coach & Horses, a tucked away pub in the back streets of Clerkenwell. The exterior is careworn at best, the wood-panelled interior nice but lacking shine, a lone cider on tap (Strongbow) and not a soul in the place.

Things began to improve once the autumn dark drew in, the place began to fill with a cosy hum and we were settled with the menu. Suddenly I was signalling for the waitress with the determination of a person about to over order.

Crayfish

Shockingly, I've only ever eaten crayfish in the form of a Pret salad, so this was my first time cracking the scarlett beauties apart and sucking out the insides. Blimey. Fresh, sweet meat dunked in tartare sauce did a little song in my mouth.

Cockles Marinara

Again, an eye opener (previous experience of cockles being the cold ones you get at the seaside, of which I am no fan). Replacing mussels in the most classic of soup/shellfish marriages, worked like a charm. The intensely fishy broth silky with cream, the frilled shells infinitely prettier than their dark cousins of the sea.

Alioli whipped the just okay chips into shape with a tangy slap of garlic. Whhhhoooooopppa.

Grey Mullet with Chickpeas, Heritage Tomatoes and Razor Clams - 'looked and tasted fine, but I'm still hungry' (from my father, who doesn't really understand fish unless its battered, deep fried and served in gargantuan portions).

At around £6 for a starter and £12 for a main, the prices are roughly London pub average and, for the quality of the food, this is good value (particularly the weekday set lunch menu). However, with the bar for eating in Clerkenwell set so high (St John, Caravan, Moro, Morito, The Modern Pantry to name a few...), C&H's taps need a bit of polish. That said, the temperature is dropping by the hour, our minds are turning to warming grub in snug pubs and, in a new winter coat, the Coach & Horses could be just the place to spend a frosty afternoon...

Coach & Horses

26-28 Ray Street

EC1R 3DJ

Hat's Off...

2011-10-14T07:50:00.000-07:00

Not being the type of girl who turns down a boozy invitation, I was more than happy to attend a mexican food and cocktail making workshop at Benito's Hat on Wednesday evening.

After a quick demos from Head Chef, Felipe and owner, Ben. It was our turn to attempt perfect tortillas, stonkingly hot salsa, and to whip up our own take on BH's watermelon martini.

Like thirsty moths to an alcohol dispensing flame we raced for the cocktail station, and started adding spirits with worrying abandon. Then applied the same kitchen sink method to our salsa and tortillas with mixed results (Felipe deemed our too thick tortillas inedible but our concoction of mango juice, mint and tequila got the thumbs up from Ben).

Sadly we had to leave before the sampling of the menu but after the way Ben talked about his menu of authentic, fresh burritos, tacos, soups and salads, I have mentally promised myself a taster in the very near future. Until then, anyone for a mango martini?

Benito's Hat

12 Great Castle Street

W1W 8LR

Eggcellent

2011-09-26T04:00:00.000-07:00

I quite liked my boyfriend anyway and then he made these...

Romance is not dead in our house, let me tell you.

Havin' A Ball

2011-09-16T10:12:00.000-07:00

My friend once told me about an episode of The Simpsons where Homer orders steak with meatballs as a drink. Even though I haven't seen it, I smile every time I think about it.

Meatballs are brilliant. They are like burgers, but they come in sauce which (unless done poorly) helps them to stay good and juicy. I don't know anyone who doesn't love them, nor do I want to. Which is why opening a restaurant centred around balls of meat is a cracking idea.

A cracking idea, that is, until you remember that they are actually hard to get right. And, if you don't, everyone will notice. Meatball's meatballs are not perfect but I'm not sure it matters. The menu is short and enticing, offering a choice of five meatballs (beef and ricotta, greek lamb, pork and rosemary, chicken, vegetarian courgette) with a selection of delightful sides or 'underneaths' including fluffy mash, honey and thyme roasted carrots and egg pappardelle.

We went as a group of six which turned out to be a perfect number for piling into the booths (I do love a booth) and ordering pretty much everything on the menu. The decor is great: polished wood, elegant leather, and a charming assortment of light fittings (I do love a light fitting). The atmosphere was a little timid for my Friday night taste but here we should note two things: one, I have a big mouth and like going places that drown out my noise and two, they have not been open long so a little time should take care of this.

Most of all though, it was just fun. Fun in the way that tapas with a table of people is fun. Lots of "Oooooh try this one," and "Stop hogging the pork balls!" It is the perfect place to go with a group and be guaranteed there is something on the menu for everyone. Because the menu is meatballs and everyone, particularly Homer Simpson, loves a meatball...

Meatballs at the Quality Chop House

92-94 Farringdon Road

EC1R 3EA

Cross It Off

2011-09-07T03:44:00.000-07:00

Saturday mornings mean Saturday kitchen and breakfast in bed, which is why I have missed out on the delights of North Cross Road Market until now. Thank god for circumstance (and a freelance article) which got me out of bed at 8am and daaan the market by 9.

I was there to hang out with Cooper aka The Dogfather who was a pleasure and a joy. What a lovely man and, more importantly, what ridiculously delicious hot dogs. I grilled him whilst he grilled and watched in awe as he created corkers like 'The Mexican Elvis' (Beef Steak n' Pinto Bean Sauce, Jalapenos, Cheddar, Grilled Onions, Hot Cheese Sauce and a 100% beef dog) to a queue of adoring fans.

Once Cooper got busy, I got busy with the rest of the market...

Gourmet Lunch Boxes (mmmm... saffron chicken), The Viet-Van (mmmm... Vietnamese baguettes), Comfort and Joy (mmmm... wraps), as well as huge wodges of sexy cheese, wickedly plump tomatoes and indecently glossy tarts. If I hadn't already eaten a mammouth hot dog, I would have been in serious trouble.

Get ye down to East Dulwich. I like it so much, I'm moving there.

(I would not lie for journalistic effect.)

North Cross Road Market

East Dulwich

SE22 9EV

Monday to Saturday

Carbs in Marbs

2011-09-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

I try to be classy. I buy meat from the butcher, wine that costs over £5 a bottle and, when on holiday, try to eat as authentically as possible. Which is why I am slightly shamefaced about my food consumption on a recent trip to Spain. The only night I ate something Spanish (Paella) was the night I drank so much (cheap) wine, I forgot how to use my camera...

I did take a lot of nice pictures though, I particularly love the old men on benches.

Hummmmus

2011-09-02T09:27:00.000-07:00

As August drew to its crappy, non sunny close, I was learning two lessons. One, if you are booking a flight and, in order to save £50 you book one that flies via Oslo, don’t. Two, if you decide not to follow that advice and book a flight from Malaga to Gatwick via Norway’s capital (taking 16 hours), it is probably best not to eat a large Double Whopper meal beforehand. Why? Because, when you finally get off the plane and go directly to work, you will feel like shit.

What Malaga airport desperately needs is a Hummus Bros. Had I gorged on pureed chickpeas with tasty toppings before embarking on my mammoth journey, I’d still have been knackered but not felt like I had mad cow disease (although some might argue you’d have to be mad cow to book the flight in the first place). Healthy fast food is not a radical idea, neither is hummus, but the novelty of putting the two together is yet to wear off (the first HB opened in Soho in 2005, Holborn in 2007 and St Pauls last year). I fell for its charms in 2009 when I worked on Southampton Row and would stagger into the Holborn branch, always hung over, every Friday.

The Soho one is bigger than Holborn and boasts table service which is always a nice touch in a fast food joint (unless you want very fast food, in which case you can go up to the counter). Knowing what to do I ordered quickly, got my order even quicker and then ate as if in some kind of legume consuming race.

Special: Italian Sausage Casserole

Sausage not all that, but had infused its fatty flavour into the ratatouille-like sauce which was delicious.

Smokey Barbequed Aubergine

This, basically baba ghanoush not blended into a dip, was extremely moreish. Particularly good smeared onto the pitta bread, topped with the sausage casserole and hummus.

Greek Salad

Fresh, crunchy, salty and a nice accompaniment to the heavier dishes.

What I really like about Hummus Bros is that they have taken a simple concept and continue to do it really well because of that fact. The bread is freshly made, the hot toppings slow-cooked and the extras (a zingy green chilli sauce, for one) full of flavour. Fingers crossed the next outpost is at Gatwick.

Hummus Bros - Soho

88 Wardour Street

W1F 0TH

Meat Uneasy

2011-08-25T07:56:00.000-07:00

I've suffered a grave blow at the hands of a meat patty and I'm finding it hard to recover.

Having spent most of the year banging on about the genius of Yianni and Co's Meateasy/Meatwagon burgers to anyone who would listen, last night I found myself chewing a mouthful of disappointment. And it tasted just like Mcdonalds.

These are harsh words, I know, and it pains me to type them (me being the biggest fan of the pink, charred, juice running down your chin experience that was the original Meatwagon burger). When they popped up in New Cross earlier this year, I was there once a week. I loved the food (which was consistently brilliant) but I equally loved that the burgers came with a side of effortless cool (I tried to make that sound as ungeeky as possible but saying cool is not cool). The space was genuis, the cocktails that came in old jars magic, and the vibe, well it made you want to get pissed and dance like you just didn't care.

So, having made the pilgrimage to The Rye in Peckham (one of the current venues for the MW crew) to re-aquaint myself with my favourite food experience of 2011, I'm sure you can imagine my expectations were pretty high.

And they were shot down.

This was supposed to be a quick, non-rant post so I wont go on. I will just say this. The patties were smaller, with no sign of pink in the middle, the iceberg lettuce soggy and the plastic cheese (which seemed cheerfully kitsch at Meateasy) less ironic when it's the only thing you can taste.

I sincerely hope that when I return (I don't give up that easy, particularly if there's meat involved) last night's hiccup was a mere fluke of the grill. Otherwise Peckham is going to see a few tears.

Was There Any Ponte?

2011-08-16T08:38:00.000-07:00

From time to time, particularly when you have little or no contacts of your own, it is only fair to piggyback on the opportunities of others. Which is why, when my food writer friend Neil (or The Lambshank Redemption to many) invited me to be his plus one, I brought my camera.

Cantina del Ponte has the same happy location on Shad Thames as my previous entry, The Blueprint Cafe, meaning lovely views of Tower Bridge. We sat outside which is always agreeable and, despite the fact it rained (where are you summer?), it was nice to take advantage of the location from beneath the awning. If I had been allowed to smoke it would have been quite perfect.

Nicotine addiction aside, we enjoyed a good meal. As Neil quite rightly said, "You wouldn't go to Tokyo looking for the perfect Pork Pie." i.e one shouldn't expect perfect Italian food in London, particularly if, like me, you have recently returned from said country.

We kicked the meal off with some bread and olive oil. I love bread and I love olive oil.

Bocconcino Di Capra Con Confettura Al Peperoncino

Otherwise known as warm goats cheese which was runny and delicious, chilli jam which was sweet and spicy and homemade foaccia (I love bread). I'm letting the fact that it was served on a black plate slide and calling it old-school.

Spaghetti Allo Scoglio

I had this dish practically every night in Italy and it was, as I feared, a poor cousin. Not terrible exactly, just not great.

Crostatina Di Ciliegie Con Gelato Alla Vaniglia

Mmmm warm cherry pie. I'm not entirely sure the pastry was perfect, but the cherries were sweet, the ice cream creamy and I'd had half a bottle of house white and a glass of prosecco by this point, so it was definitely marvellous. Again enjoyed the old-school dusting of icing sugar.

Cantina del Ponte does not serve perfect Italian food *falls over in shock* but the service is good, prices keen and it does have great location. It wouldn't be my first choice in Shad Thames, or my second, but you could do a lot worse along that riverside stretch (All Bar One, I'm looking at you).

Cantina Del Ponte

36C Shad Thames

SE1 2YE

Blueprint Cafe

2011-08-05T06:15:00.001-07:00

The afternoon before dining at the Blueprint Cafe, I happened upon an interesting conversation with a friend whose boyfriend is a chef. Apparently he HATES people who come into his restaurant and order the set menu. This irritated me.

Sometimes *steps up on to her soap box* people want to eat in fancy restaurants and sometimes those people can’t afford to pay £30 for a main course. So what *raises her voice an octave* is wrong with getting part of the experience. Surely better than no experience at all.

I realise that I fall into the above category, so my opinion is a little one sided, but I do loathe the shame that taints the set menu, which is why the experience that followed it was so sweet.

The Blueprint Cafe is housed on the second floor of the Design Museum, just past Tower Bridge, on the river, rewarding diners with some rather lovely views. The interior is cute; round tables, big windows, the odd stripe (my friend said that it felt a bit 90s in a good way).

The food was good. Not get up and do a little dance good, but definitely do a little smile at the first mouthful good. The website tells me that Scottish chef, Jeremy, has been there for 16 years and is much praised for his 'seasonal, uncomplicated cooking' (which is exactly how I would have described it had they not got there first).

Lettuce and Loveage Soup

I would never usually order soup in a restaurant, particularly one containing only vegetables but this was brilliant. Vibrant green, it couldn't have looked more pleasing and it tasted like a summer garden. It did need a generous shake of salt but this was forgiven once I realised it came with fresh sourdough and a slab of creamy butter. Mmmmm.

Leg of Lamb with a Mustard Crust

I was surprised when this turned up in a mini casserole dish. Not that I minded, but I had expected something more akin to a steak than a stew. The slow cooked lamb was studded with sweet peas and topped with a tangy mustard crust. We splashed out and ordered a side of vegetables (£4) and were delighted with the huge bowl of minted courgettes and runner beans, and an equally large bowl of crispy new potatoes.

Raspberry Shortcake

I didn't actually get to taste this but it looked pretty which is always a good start. Mouth full, my dining companion informed me 'the raspberries are nice and tart, the shortcake light and buttery and the cream not too sweet'.

This was a good meal, and perhaps it would have been a great meal had I ordered from the main menu but so what. The staff are clearly well schooled because I was never made to feel like a tramp, I got to enjoy a gorgeous sunset in one of my favourite parts of the Thames, and I got to eat a meal in a restaurant I might think twice about visiting if I had to pay full price. So, until I can afford to stop being a cheapskate, I've found a place where it just don't seem so bad...

Set Menu: £15 for two courses, £22 for three courses

Butlers Wharf
28 Shad Thames

SE1 2YD
020 7378 7031

Italy

2011-07-30T07:09:00.000-07:00

Two weeks, two bikes, two regions, one mountain and countless calories; I'm going to tell you a little story called how to eat your way round (some of) Italy and not put on a pound.

From the burger we greedily gobbled on the first night, to the huge plates of spaghetti we scoffed on the last, two weeks on the Adriatic coast proved to be quite the lesson in wanton gluttony. I could write verses about the tomatoes, pages about the bread, and an entire book on the olives but instead I shall narrate this rather marvellously greedy journey through the medium of photography. Enjoy.

Pleased to Meat You

2011-06-28T07:15:00.001-07:00

Am feeling very sorry for myself this week. No money means no meals out and an empty fridge. Were it not for my apocalypse store of puy lentils, chicken stock and a selection of spices, I would be tres miserable. With nothing but soup in sight, thank god for the memory of last week's meal at Goodman to get me through...

Despite what my current eating habits will have you believe, I am resolutely a meat girl and Goodman is the meat place. Which is why I finally got around to going, after at least a year of people telling me to. I dined in the company of my editor who also happens to be a ‘let’s get two things and share’ kind of gal. Lucky, as I had already decided what we were having long before we entered Goodman's welcoming doors.

Goodman Burger with Truffle Chips

Being a huge Meateasy fan, (when the pop up came to New Cross earlier in the year, I took it upon myself to become their most regular customer) this burger had some pretty incredible memories to erase. Taste wise it was probably on par, but, as my editor said, it was a "neater version”and I liked it less. The messy chaos of eating a Meateasy burger, greased ketchup running down my arms and chin, proved too strongly embedded in my mind.

The chips though, were ridiculous. Crunchy, salty chunks of deliciousness; indecently flecked with truffle oil. I would love to test these side by side with the ones at Heston’s Dinner. It would be the ultimate chip competition and, I suspect, a rather close call.

Bone in Rib-Eye

Medium rare, charred on the outside, this cow had been treated like royalty from the field to my gob. I can only describe the experience of eating these ruby slices as, well, a party in my mouth. I'm glad I was not sitting at the table with me because I imagine I looked like the woman in the Halls Soothers advert.

The wine was great but a bit pricey (though I do usually buy bottles based on it being labelled '3 for a Tenner'), the staff lovely, the restaurant buzzing and most importantly, they know how to cook their meat. I have spent most of my adult life being extremely careful with my limited income. Now I’m going to spend it on eating steak at Goodman.

Particularly Good

2011-06-16T09:26:00.001-07:00

There is something appealing about food being served on something other than a plate. Call it nostalgia, call it novelty value but we all know fish and chips tastes better directly from the paper. I once ate in a restaurant in Sydney where they served all manner of fried goods in baskets made from twisted newspaper. I was beside myself.

This brings us rather neatly to The London Particular, a charming café in the ever-eclectic New Cross which just happens to be my home. I have been meaning to go since it opened almost a year ago and, last weekend, I finally got around to popping in. The tiny space is bright and airy, much like the staff (who happily let us sample the cakes before we settled on a slice of spectacular pear and ginger loaf)

So far, so good but a café is a café. This was my opinion until two things happened. One, our tea and slices of cake were presented to us on vintage tiles (adorable). The second being that all dishes from the menu are served in a bowl, from home made quiches to beans and toast (to dunk, obviously). Call me crazy, but the simplicity of dishing up breakfast, lunch and dinner in a single curved vessel made me want to weep with joy.

Weird obsession with alternatives to the plate aside, this is a gem of a place. And, if the thought of tea served on a tile or beans in a bowl caused a similar spasm of elation, then go immediately.

The London Particular

399 New Cross Road

London SE14 6LA

020 8692 6149

An Impromptu Feast

2011-06-16T04:28:00.000-07:00

Last Friday and an intimate dinner for four; including me, my house mates (two old queens whom I love dearly) and our friend Jen. Being a food geek and follower of Delia from a young age, I had prepped on Thursday and my carefully planned menu was good to go. Or would have been...

Bloody housemates. Whilst I was prepping, they were busy drinking free gin and doubling our four to eight. Cool as a courgette, I did a mental recalculation of the food, a calculation of my bank balance plus what we had in the freezer and a slightly mismatched, but delicious dinner party was born. Hurrah!

(terribly murky images to be blamed on excessive wine consumption plus only having an iPhone camera at my disposal)

Stuffed Peppers with Beef and Rosemary

A hybrid of a Nigel Slater recipe featured the last Observer Food Monthly which, due to Asda only doing mixed peppers, my obsession with thyme and our friend Elauen not eating pork, I followed only vaguely. Here’s what I did (not that I am suggesting mine to be better than Nigel’s, which would clearly be absurd).

Large Red Onion

Two Cloves of Garlic

500g Minced Beef

50g Breadcrumbs

6 Mixed Peppers

3 Sprigs of Rosemary, finely chopped

3 Sprigs of Thyme

3 Tomatoes

Good Squeeze of Tomato Puree

Pinch of Sugar

Salt

Pepper

Parmesan

Preheat Oven 200 degrees.

Cook onion over low heat in olive oil til soft. Add rosemary, thyme, garlic and season, cook for a few minutes. Add chopped tomatoes and cook until broken down, then add sugar and tomato puree.

Meanwhile halve and deseed peppers then simmer in boiling water for about 8 minutes of until starting to soften. Drain and put skin side down on baking tray.

Add beef and breadcrumbs to tomato mixture, give it a good stir and take off the heat. Fill peppers with mixture and top with grated parmesan. Cook in oven for around 30 minutes.

Roasted Sweet Potato, Red Onion and Feta Salad with Cous Cous

This started off as a salad, but extra guests meant bulking out with carbs was necessary. The ‘Moonblush Tomatoes' are from Nigella and her Nigella Express; basically turn up oven as high as it goes, quarter tomatoes, coat in oil and season well, turn oven off, put tomatoes on baking tray with a few sprigs of thyme and leave overnight. In the morning you will have something akin to a sundried tomato, which can be thrown into most salads and taste brilliant. Thanks Nigella!

Large Sweet Potato

2 Red Onions

Four Cloves of Garlic

Four Dried Chillis

One Chilli, finely chopped

8 ‘Moonblush’ Tomatoes

Bag of Baby Spinach

Juice of One Lemon

Olive Oil

Salt

Pepper

250g Cous Cous

200g Feta

Parsley

Preheat Oven to 240 degrees

Chop sweet potato into large chunks, quarter red onion (leave skin on), smash garlic cloves and dried chillis. Mix together in a bowl with generous glug of olive oil and season. Transfer to baking tray and cook until potato is soft and the onion is starting to blacken at the edges (around 40 minutes).

Meanwhile, prepare cous cous (aka follow the pack instructions)

Prepare dressing by mixing lemon, olive oil, fresh chilli, salt and pepper.

Combine sweet potato, onion (discard skin and chop roughly), cous cous and two thirds of the dressing in a large bowl until everything is nicely coated.

On a large plate layer spinach leaves, then cous cous, then tomatoes, finishing with chopped parsley and the rest of the dressing.

Turkey Stuffed with Thyme and Cream Cheese Wrapped in Bacon

Again, this is a variant on a recipe shamelessly stolen from another chef (I like to think they all taught me how to cook in lieu of a domestic mother), this time Gordon Ramsey who uses chicken, parma ham, ricotta and sage. However, I had to think on my feet and use what was lingering in the fridge/freezer/cupboard and these weren’t bad either.

4 Turkey Steaks

8 Rashers of Streaky Bacon

5 Sprigs of Thyme

4 Cloves of Garlic

Pack of Cream Cheese

Salt

Pepper

Preheat oven to 190 degrees

Mix cream cheese, salt, pepper, crushed garlic and thyme in a bowl, set aside. Smash turkey steaks until thin with rolling pin then fill centre with a generous tablespoon of the cream cheese mixture, fold in half and then wrap in bacon. Repeat.

Brown turkey parcels in a hot frying pan, around five minutes on each side. Finish in oven (15-20 minutes, depending on the thickness of the steaks)

Slice before serving so everyone can share.

To my main dishes, I added new potatoes which were par boiled, coated in a garlic and herb butter (handful of basil, handful of parsley, 3 cloves of garlic and 300g butter) and then roasted in a hot oven for 15 minutes, and lots of crusty bread (which I didn’t make, girl's got to have time to sip her wine).

Being a Friday night and everyone coming after work at random, people gathered in the kitchen drinking whilst I cooked. This was a blessing, by the time we ate (at about 9.30pm) everyone was merry, starving and extremely complimentary. A success.

Ariana II

2011-06-15T05:49:00.000-07:00

I had heard of Kilburn (though couldn’t have told you what line it was on) but being a New Cross girl, there has to be a pretty good reason to make me travel that far across London. This turned out to be an Afghan place on Kilburn High Road. So on Monday night, having heard great things, I ventured north; and am delighted to report it was worth the hike.

Amongst the ubiquitous mix of pound shops, asian supermarkets and dodgy kebab joints, I found a spiffing pub, The Black Lion (huge, old, beautifully ornate interior, bags of character and good cider too) and mid way down, Ariana II.

The décor was simple with a few wall hung rugs, plain dark wood tables and a nice atmosphere despite being a third full (it was Monday night). Our waitress was lovely, cheerfully opening our BYO wine (no corkage charge) and, more importantly, the smells coming from the kitchen sent my constantly hungry state into overdrive.

On a Time Out recommendation (being a food geek, I find it hard to visit a restaurant before swotting up first) we ordered the Aushak to start, as well as some Spinach Samosa and Naan, served with a brilliant chilli and mint dip.

Aushak £4.95

These were incredible; the lightest dumplings filled with sauted leeks and topped with ground meat and tangy yoghurt. The delicately spiced beef had melted into a sauce that was not hot, but deliciously rich; the dumplings were like a very thin, very fresh ravioli.

Spinach Samosa £1.95

Tasty. I'm not the best judge in this case as I'll eat anything if it's been deep fried, but they were the right kind of crispness and the filling of spinach, cheese (I forgot to ask the waitress but was salty like feta) and garlic made for a satisfyingly light bite. Good addition to the rich Aushak.

And so to the mains...

Mantu £5.95

Not dissimilar to the Aushak, these were minced lamb filled pastry dumplings, topped with chick peas and served, again, with yoghurt. They were even better; the soft steamed pastry, giving way to ridiculously moist lamb, tied together by the tomato-y chickpeas, the yoghurt cutting thorough the richness.

Kabuli Palow £7.95

Jesus H Christ. Without this the meal would have been excellent but, wow, did this take it to another level. Previously I had been a big fan of the Lamb Biryani at Dishoom, but this made that look like a few chunks of tired old mutton...

Perfectly cooked rice dotted with carrot, raisins, almonds and pistachios topped *swoon* an entire lamb shank. The meat was so good I was close to tears.

The bill came to £22 for two. A pittance for probably one of the best dinners I’ve had this year. We were stuffed, slightly pissed on BYO wine and continued to talk about how delicious and unusual our meal was on the long journey home. So get thee to Kilburn, I am seriously considering moving there...

Ariana II

241 Kilburn High Road

NW6 7JN

0203 490 6709