tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89254561952140624682024-02-06T19:09:18.954-08:00fatmanclaphandFat London food blogger burning off those calories one clap at a time.JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-74604703332042588432014-01-14T06:21:00.000-08:002014-01-20T05:01:26.407-08:00Bone Daddies: the stock falls<br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">None of the Ramen bars beat Tonkotsu.</span></h4>
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Last year I went through phase of eating Ramen. More accurately London did, but I followed. I gave up the burgers, steaks and good beer and started trying to drink stock from bowls using chopsticks.<br />
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Distressingly it seems I shouldn't have made such a leap. I should have landed halfway, with a ramen burger...<br />
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Still, by the time I realised my mistake, I was kind of hooked on downing soup using wooden sticks. I'd also discovered that they usually give you a spoon. A really BIG spoon. A ladle in fact. I was wowed by <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/tonkotsu-my-new-stock-answer.html">Tonkotsu</a> several times, semi-wooed by <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/shoryu-katie-price-of-tonkotsu.html">Shoryu</a> and thoroughly mistreated by Koya (although like a cheated-on naive teenager, I'll probably give them another chance). But then ramen got a bit less trendy. The explosion was more of a seepage, and I was distracted by my <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/e-mono-follow-kebab-shop-light.html">first-ever good kebab</a>. And my first-ever sober kebab.<br />
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So I was surprised as anyone to find myself sat down in Bone Daddies, our Western bastardisation of Ramen – with added rock music, craft beer and eastern European waiters – hoping that this would attract the people who regard a McChicken Sandwich as something a bit different. So I took an instant dislike to the place. I had to sit on a stool, with my legs dangling like a school boy in the headmaster's office. I was so close to my neighbour I got splash back from his stock. And the music was too loud.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QF6hFXhoZ3SR2l3Aq0bj6ypkZDW49NcRmegtowAWUC9vwZIxzNY2iyW4-TQbTBuO0c-cOo9kPs86nVbSystDnvJ5FW6vqaW6pcGrcSTr74X5kj32kv-7fJeRQopxGA22B9h7bEyo1hI/s1600/bone+daddies+tonkotsu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QF6hFXhoZ3SR2l3Aq0bj6ypkZDW49NcRmegtowAWUC9vwZIxzNY2iyW4-TQbTBuO0c-cOo9kPs86nVbSystDnvJ5FW6vqaW6pcGrcSTr74X5kj32kv-7fJeRQopxGA22B9h7bEyo1hI/s320/bone+daddies+tonkotsu.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>Still, I am a food blogger, and I'm currently only doing the latter. Our starters were super – soft-shell crab with chilli and ginger; crunchy chilled tenderstem broccoli with fiery yuzu mayo; and... well... beans. The broccoli in particular, which you can get at their sister restaurant <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/flesh-buns-for-goodness-sake.html">Flesh & Buns</a>, was brilliant. That mayo is just off the scale – spicy, sweet, sour, creamy, spiky. All the things.<br />
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And so to the ramen. For direct comparison I went for the tonkotsu, which is essentially a super thick, marrowy pork broth – a dish that 12 months ago I would have been cynical about. Now I love the stuff – salty, meaty and filled with sweet crunchy veg and a gooey Clarence Court egg. Bone Daddies was slammed with stuff in contrast to its rivals. The broth was cloudy like the Shoryu ramen, while Tonkotsu's is clear (if anyone wants to explain that to me...), and comes in second, mostly because while Shoryu and Bone Daddies insist on using dry meat, Tonkotsu use lovely moist roasted pork that's so much more satisfying than the stringier stuff, which belongs on a Sunday roast.<br />
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So if you're feeling the January blues and need some hot stock to perk you up, you could do worse than Bone Daddies. But you could do better, and go to Tonkotsu. But maybe stop off for some broccoli on the way home.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1713657/restaurant/Soho/Bone-Daddies-London"><img alt="Bone Daddies on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1713657/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com031 Peter Street, London W1F 0AR, UK51.5128853 -0.1339146999999911725.9908508 -41.442508699999991 77.0349198 41.174679300000008tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-50000740483163196022014-01-14T06:17:00.002-08:002014-01-14T06:19:53.744-08:00Duke's Brew & Que: brilliant beneath the surface<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">The details are wrong, but the concept perfect.</span></h4>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2z3acPofbpnMS0oLfy90APkG9KCocaMWjYhSt7ADCkmZqRbLs0UMxFHbXhjDGAucdyMLFK_L1QxLki8rQjtKvPgFG0-WNiEC5S17nuPMlIyoK6udetalIlxERPKiil6T21lYrmj_Rhk/s1600/Dukes+Brew+&+Que+review.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2z3acPofbpnMS0oLfy90APkG9KCocaMWjYhSt7ADCkmZqRbLs0UMxFHbXhjDGAucdyMLFK_L1QxLki8rQjtKvPgFG0-WNiEC5S17nuPMlIyoK6udetalIlxERPKiil6T21lYrmj_Rhk/s320/Dukes+Brew+&+Que+review.jpg" width="320" /></a>If by some mad chance you've read one of my reviews before, you'll know that I'm a sucker for a good beer list. That's why I started my (admittedly much more successful) other foodie project, the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/TheCraftBeerChannel">Craft Beer Channel</a>.<br />
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Now, some restaurants have great beer lists. <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/byron-carefully-crafted.html">Byron</a> for one, who work with Camden Town Brewery to find new brews and even make their own lager. <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/fish-chip-shop-off-scale.html">The Fish & Chip Shop</a> have a decent list too, and of course <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/meatmission-holy-hell.html">MEATliquor</a>, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/honest-burger-camden-truly-super.html">Honest </a>et al champion good beers as well. In fact, after a slightly lacklustre meat fest at <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/smokehouse-all-smoke-some-fire.html">Smokehouse</a>, it was their incredible craft beer list that really saved they day (they had Mikkeller on DRAUGHT for god's sake).<br />
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But Duke's Brew & Que, where I went on a cold, rainy, kind-of-Christmassy "ladz" night, is off the scale. Firstly it's attached to Beavertown Brewery, one of the finest new London breweries, so it has their entire back catalogue. Their Gamma Ray and Smog Rocket in particular are fantastic, and Neck Oil, a session IPA, is pretty damned flavourful too for 4.2%.<br />
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But like every good brewery bar, they also stock a load of other breweries' booze, rightly to champion the entire movement. And boy did they have some fantastic stuff, including heaven of heavens - Dark Star Revelation, one of my favourite beers of all time.<br />
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But enough of that. As a place it's strange. The outside is lined with a tent, like it's undergoing Fumigation. Inside it has a diner-esque feel that's nice and buzzy, but with the bar taking up such a large amount of the room if you're sat at a bad table you can feel a little like you're on display. This unease wasnt helped by how rushed we were. I do find it bizarre when restaurants say "we can get you a table, but we need it back within 90 minutes". As if that's up to us. Any delays are going to be cause by the waiters and chefs, not the diners.<br />
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Ahem. That said, with a friend running late, we necked two pints and then were forced to order for him. So we got four of their platters, featuring a foot-long beef rib, pork rib, pulled pork, slaw, pickles and Parmesan bread. If that sounds like a lot, that's because it is.<br />
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But then he didn't show up.<br />
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I didn't realise quite how much I'd eaten until, four days later, I still couldn't say (or indeed write) the words "beef rib" without starting to sweat. But that was partly because, despite the brilliance of the pork rib and the dry but delicious pulled pork, the beef was way, way overdone. The blackened crust was honestly about a centimetre thick, and tough as crackling. And it wasn't just mine, every rib that went by was charred to hell and dry as, well, a bone. That didn't stop us getting all the meat off though, because once you were through the crust the meat was seriously flavoursome. When it came to our extra plate of food though, we were fighting over everything else first, even the chips (I was banned from ordering a salad).<br />
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It's a very hip, happening places. The average thickness of people's glasses rims was well over half a centimetre and the bearded brigade were in full force. And that's a good thing by the way. You were surrounded by people who loved good food and beer. Usually there were even a few people dining alone, showing that the place is so loved that it's become sustenance, rather than a great way to meet friends.<br />
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Duke's is one of those places that people go all misty-eyed about. But I'd file it in the <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/tayyabs-currying-no-favour.html">Tayyabs</a> cabinet - only the uncurious think it's brilliant, because they haven't found somewhere better. <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/pitt-cue-co-queue-wont-believe-your.html">Pitt Cue</a> is now the barbecue place to beat, and no where else I have been has come close, even if it's trying to seduce me with copious good beer.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1661620/restaurant/Hoxton/Dukes-Brew-and-Que-London"><img alt="Duke's Brew and Que on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1661620/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com033 Downham Road, London N1 5AA, UK51.539011599999988 -0.07849490000000969351.527939599999989 -0.098664900000009687 51.550083599999986 -0.058324900000009693tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-64982735841851262022013-12-02T12:58:00.000-08:002013-12-02T12:58:33.799-08:00E. Mono: follow the kebab shop light<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Last night a kebab saved my life.</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4th0xRQthfPCj95ROhgt5-cTtGzh7irYdaduPXJ_PvQxBTExl5Rd_n4mKSY4b8yMuVQnnSR8RommhyphenhyphenF09tHMwIU4vBxjQ8OPz78kE11DLlN2J6M0xHiJALZDXXMPbSSjscVlPkWhank/s1600/E+Mono+kebab+lamb+shawarma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4th0xRQthfPCj95ROhgt5-cTtGzh7irYdaduPXJ_PvQxBTExl5Rd_n4mKSY4b8yMuVQnnSR8RommhyphenhyphenF09tHMwIU4vBxjQ8OPz78kE11DLlN2J6M0xHiJALZDXXMPbSSjscVlPkWhank/s320/E+Mono+kebab+lamb+shawarma.jpg" width="320" /></a>So last night I had the best kebab I have ever had.<br />
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A kebab is many things to many people. To some it's the crowning glory of a night out, others the silver lining as you call time on a terrible one. To some it's sobering, to others it's nauseating. Sometimes it ends up being dinner, occasionally the remainder ends up being breakfast too. But it is one thing to all of those people - still just a kebab.<br />
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E. Mono has the great honour of being one of Giles Coren's five favourite restaurants. Given that half of them fall within two miles of his home, it's possible that geography figures highly in his decision, but don't let that distract you. E. Mono, with its quaint Victorian signage and smiling chefs, make great kebabs to drunks. They make their own wraps, saving us from the terminally shit pittas that cost-cutting kebab houses stick to. You even get floury fingers. Floury fingers! In a kebab shop!<br />
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But it's their meat when the difference is most noticeable. Their lamb may come off an upright spike next to your Gran's electric radiator, but the meat is juicy, tasty and gorgeously caramelised and burnt around the edges. It must be great sourcing, because the methods are the same. The sticky, sweet flavour just cuts right through the watery salad and slightly crispy flatbread. It fills your nose and mouth with flavour and cracks your mouth into that drunken, dribbling smile your friends know so well and you only see in blurred Facebook photos.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyes57M1EL3hXqc6FmqXgfqWN5rCb8xU1Q5pewFehQa1iDiFzAlMEiFcYSJ86ct0YJ2zniDuN8d5YQT2P_3ncSvK24SGOv-PaDA_q5gz3ukS6QUjXGBDBvZIhy21f5lVKcw1qkAwcSf6o/s1600/E+Mono+kebab+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyes57M1EL3hXqc6FmqXgfqWN5rCb8xU1Q5pewFehQa1iDiFzAlMEiFcYSJ86ct0YJ2zniDuN8d5YQT2P_3ncSvK24SGOv-PaDA_q5gz3ukS6QUjXGBDBvZIhy21f5lVKcw1qkAwcSf6o/s320/E+Mono+kebab+house.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was going to say "Imagine if all kebab houses were like this", But we shouldn't have to. They all should be already. I paid £4.95 for my medium lamb shawarma. No more and n less than any other kebab I've ever ordered. So why can't other places do it?<br />
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Screw it. Imagine if they did.JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0287 Kentish Town Road, London NW5 2JS, UK51.5490563 -0.1411582000000635231.023012299999998 -41.625533200000064 72.0751003 41.343216799999936tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-69651861795247496272013-10-21T12:19:00.000-07:002013-10-21T12:19:39.220-07:00Soho Diner: a chip off the old block<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Just another diner. Not different, just better.</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHAXP3233_qPn0b_eGDLvff97M2MKD7eNDxFtMoyHTwgjEOl7rbUmoc9t7D4AfXxb3K2-BH1smK7fdBqWZNB9C17_9P9oTUZYZQrX3_hWgRkAhBFhXFmiwz9-7ZTvDrdDwEqnXYbQ1r4/s1600/Soho+diner+burger+egg+bacon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHAXP3233_qPn0b_eGDLvff97M2MKD7eNDxFtMoyHTwgjEOl7rbUmoc9t7D4AfXxb3K2-BH1smK7fdBqWZNB9C17_9P9oTUZYZQrX3_hWgRkAhBFhXFmiwz9-7ZTvDrdDwEqnXYbQ1r4/s320/Soho+diner+burger+egg+bacon.jpg" width="320" /></a>Diners are like London buses because they're FRICKIN' everywhere. I went past about five on my way down Old Compton Street to the Soho Diner, including several I've already reviewed (like <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/eds-diner-50s-reheated.html">Ed's Easy Diner</a>). And when you're not tripping over diner-themed restaurants, you're walking headlong into trendy burger bars. It's ridiculous.<br />
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And I love it. And I also love the Soho Diner. I was as hungover as one of Michael Barrymore's party guests on Saturday and still I finished that burger. True, I had to duck out to the loo twice just to be safe, but I was determined to get through it.<br />
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What the diner has so cleverly done is recreate was the McDonald's burger is in our heads before we actually eat it. The patties are thin but rare, the sauce thick and sticky, the cheese so gloopy it sticks to your throat, and all in a sweet brioche bun that feels cheap but so, so good. Perhaps sensing my hangover shakes (or simply smelling the alcohol) they asked if I'd like bacon and eggs on my burger. Ambitiously I said that sounded excellent. It made it seem more like brunch, which is a good, hearty thing to eat when suffering the drinker's withdrawal. The bacon was something else, about 2cm thick and rammed with sweet honey and gammon flavours. And then the egg was perfect and runny, but perfectly circular, just like the crap McDonald's ones.<br />
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If all that sounds a little too sycophantic don't read the rest, because I haven't even started on the milkshake - pistachio and honeycomb. Oh my days. If I'd sicked it up I'd have probably tried again it was that good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagCMTZoL9sGC0qxiurPmXk98B6m5QL2e6bNxSiSkbNrtMlNl-GvA5rbqKvXvGbwSxCV-BtvdWs6OwoPbudjNMvl4gd5cPTGonzkIkmlmfSu8bThVI2HTt3z31pEOTo4I7zGep9MbUw-o/s1600/Soho+Diner+milkshake+pistachio+and+honeycomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagCMTZoL9sGC0qxiurPmXk98B6m5QL2e6bNxSiSkbNrtMlNl-GvA5rbqKvXvGbwSxCV-BtvdWs6OwoPbudjNMvl4gd5cPTGonzkIkmlmfSu8bThVI2HTt3z31pEOTo4I7zGep9MbUw-o/s320/Soho+Diner+milkshake+pistachio+and+honeycomb.jpg" width="320" /></a>Having ranted about the food, the location seems somewhat moot, but it is rather nice. Very spacious and wooden, with cocktails on tap and a decent enough beer list (could do better Soho House, could do better). There was even a European-like gathering of probably-older-than-you-think guys in leather jackets drinking beer from stemmed glasses outside, despite the freakish weather and an enormous delivery truck (probably needed for the extra thick bacon) blocking their view of the street. This is why I have no picture of the outside.<br />
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There are some pretty shoddy reviews of the Soho Diner on the usual customer websites. They're hardly a barometer for good food, but I am baffled. It's not changing the world, but Soho House (who run the place along with <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/the-chicken-shop-breast-chicken-in.html">Chicken Shop</a>, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/dirty-burger-worth-its-salt.html">Dirty Burger</a>, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/pizzaeast-given-pizza-my-mind.html">PizzaEast</a> and <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/dean-street-townhouse-good-pg-tip.html">Dean Street Townhouse</a>) never try too. They just nail it. Whoever is at the top knows what the public want, and from a diner it's trashy food done in style, in a place where they would want to come at any time of day. It's open 'til 3am at the weekend, so I know where I'm going when caught short and drunk in Soho. Hopefully I won't need loo breaks at that point.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1763565/restaurant/Soho/Soho-Diner-London"><img alt="Soho Diner on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1763565/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0Old Compton Street, London W1D 4UG, UK51.5135488 -0.1303265000000237751.5085813 -0.14045450000002377 51.5185163 -0.12019850000002377tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-82104946842956097552013-10-20T08:13:00.000-07:002013-10-20T08:13:47.028-07:00Smokehouse: all smoke, some fire<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">A great meat palace with a bit of gristle</span></h4>
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I used to cycle past The House by Highbury & Islington every day. It had always intrigued me, because despite looking like Wetherspoons, a friend assured me it was "The Ivy of Islington".<br />
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I doubted that very much. I went there to prove my point but got so drunk I couldn't remember enough to back up my argument. Still, my suspicions were confirmed when it closed.<br />
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To my joy it reopened as The Smokehouse, advertising delicious meat, lots of smoke and, most importantly, a crate load of great beers. When you walk in the first thing you see is a row of 20 taps, all marked with Sharpies to tell the baffled barmen which is which. You then approach the bar and see that right around the inside of it runs beer fridges practically falling open with craft beer. On the wall is a blackboard entitled "Beer and food matching" that lists the best drinks for their dishes. The wine doesn't really get a look in, which is a refreshing change of tack.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyeBq8daAMeAMlZ5tLQlpX4mbGc7dXF3Er-u4W2tKNsuw48Zzt6QJdVO13gMvvWIWunK-AlFPw0IMuWhZX9YFwiWc7qu55RyxCHOY4jDv6Ggj48FVMYotwiylCiYOh23KjeMgJDtqKE0/s1600/Smokehouse+N1+restaurant+islington+brunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdyeBq8daAMeAMlZ5tLQlpX4mbGc7dXF3Er-u4W2tKNsuw48Zzt6QJdVO13gMvvWIWunK-AlFPw0IMuWhZX9YFwiWc7qu55RyxCHOY4jDv6Ggj48FVMYotwiylCiYOh23KjeMgJDtqKE0/s320/Smokehouse+N1+restaurant+islington+brunch.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a>Sadly on my first visit I was eating brunch (see my egg and beef hash, left), and decided that just hours after stopping drinking, the last thing I should do with breakfast was have a beer. On this visit I was not so reserved. I dived straight in to order a Mikkeller APA, along with a croquette of breadcrumbed beef with gochuchang mayonnaise. The concept of both is trashy and flawless, the delivery less perfect. Most disappointingly the beef, having been fried and then deep fried, was a little dry. Still, that gochuchang mayonnaise made from fermented chillies and soy beans, was incredible, the acidity slicing through the meat like a knife.<br />
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For the main I had only one choice once I'd seen it - ox cheek with cauliflower cheese, which I paired (at their suggestion) with Pressure Drop's brown ale. That cheesy sauce was something else, as was the gravy the meat came in, but again the meat was a little dry. Given the clever cooking on show elsewhere, how did the chef make a fatty cut like ox cheek seem dry?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Jsyd-vEsdE956tKSQ2mArVl91VYZlej4CjI6adUw9uW_OwVsfbK3NOslkFaXNXMayPrwCWfza2yLeG5Rr4KNxfvKPvQ5OrFRqi2KRE7jTUpfb-maOeZOPM532DoFVjbyJB3jL3FdlM8/s1600/Smokehouse+N1+restaurant+islington+ox+cheek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Jsyd-vEsdE956tKSQ2mArVl91VYZlej4CjI6adUw9uW_OwVsfbK3NOslkFaXNXMayPrwCWfza2yLeG5Rr4KNxfvKPvQ5OrFRqi2KRE7jTUpfb-maOeZOPM532DoFVjbyJB3jL3FdlM8/s320/Smokehouse+N1+restaurant+islington+ox+cheek.jpg" width="320" /></a>Still, the mopping businesses at the end with their crispy roast potatoes was a memory to treasure. It was chips, cheese and gravy the way a Michelin-starred place would do it.<br />
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By this point my companion was well stuffed (as well as "not really being a pudding person", as if that's a valid statement) but I still had room for their Friday Pie - which turned out to be a seriously rich, seriously dark chocolate tart. It was one of those tarts where the pastry is so thick you think you'll go through the plate before the pastry gives in, but it needs it with a gloopy chocolate. With these flavours the remnants of my brown ale had no chance and tasted like soda water. Perhaps more of Belgium is needed on the beer list so the puddings can meet their match too.<br />
<br />
Given the wealth of brews on offer we decided we had to have one for the road. The Smokehouse likes to put itself across as a pub, and does have the comfortable vibe of a country inn, with exposed wood, fireplaces and soft lighting. And they were happy for us to take our time - which is lucky because if you rush a 5.9% beer that cycle home can get fraught.<br />
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Luckily my wallet was a lot lighter, so at least I was balanced on my bike. £90 for two did seem a little steep, especially when I'm not convinced by the quality of the beef (the cooking was excellent) but when the beer is this good, the place this lovely, and elements of the food super you'll always go back to give it another try.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1772394/restaurant/Islington/Smokehouse-London"><img alt="Smokehouse on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1772394/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; width: 130px;" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com063 Canonbury Road, London N1 2DG, UK51.5425158 -0.09961859999998523631.016432299999998 -41.583993599999985 72.068599299999988 41.384756400000015tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-59406051198087719802013-09-17T09:28:00.000-07:002013-09-17T09:30:33.336-07:00Flesh & Buns: for goodness sake<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Great fun, buns have room for improvement</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO9hfxLfJuTp6nOLUbEjge1o9AxMNTjPwcTEuhPLuF2R9G2mrV39jn6oVYarjUcHOY1lv1DfrqFOPli7hpBD3KuMIlAc8Sg3l_6HC2nu2amygvP0QsX2E9EaykwVU3Ut76ipsHxVMpWU/s1600/flesh+and+buns+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO9hfxLfJuTp6nOLUbEjge1o9AxMNTjPwcTEuhPLuF2R9G2mrV39jn6oVYarjUcHOY1lv1DfrqFOPli7hpBD3KuMIlAc8Sg3l_6HC2nu2amygvP0QsX2E9EaykwVU3Ut76ipsHxVMpWU/s320/flesh+and+buns+logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Although it deserves a lot more, my enduring memory of Flesh & Buns is that Sake is disgusting. Mostly it reminded me of those horrid Strawberry Volvic waters, so weakly flavoured that there are more tannins that taste notes.<br />
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Still, far be it from me to dismiss a national drink out of hand (oh, OK then I will). I still drank a bottle of it and had a wonderful time while doing so. Flesh & Buns is a terrible name for a restaurant, and according to my limited knowledge of Eastern cuisine a slightly confused concept, but it's a great place to eat anyway.<br />
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Tucked underground on one of the thousands of roads that come off Seven Dials in Covent Garden, it has a lovely atmosphere with booths and great long tables that dissect the room, where everyone shares elbow space and conversations. It claims to be an Izakaya - essentially an aperitivo bar with Sake rather than wine - but if you had to wait 90 minutes to go to an aperitivo bar you'd be in the nearest pub eating pies before you could say "I hate the London foodie scene".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifOlNQ690TKiwn4A5YQffV8VBu4f3hQQPyVUKZlGgsY9bGSiCbS6nvZyDdhgKtO2ivecgWfq85jnBJiglstxfJyS8InuspJ-bK2yleK4g4x7gBn20sAv-S7AI9lHCjKMGBEQDlNfRkKsY/s1600/flesh+and+buns+hirata+steamed+buns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifOlNQ690TKiwn4A5YQffV8VBu4f3hQQPyVUKZlGgsY9bGSiCbS6nvZyDdhgKtO2ivecgWfq85jnBJiglstxfJyS8InuspJ-bK2yleK4g4x7gBn20sAv-S7AI9lHCjKMGBEQDlNfRkKsY/s320/flesh+and+buns+hirata+steamed+buns.jpg" width="320" /></a>No, Flesh & Buns is about the food, as the silly name suggests. But it is pretty casual. You order your buns, order you meat, order your sides and then drink Sake and leisurely chomp your way through it. At least that's how it should have been. Instead, we ordered our buns, ordered our braised pork in mustard miso and ordered our yuzu mayo broccoli. The broccoli arrived first and was frickin' delicious - but a very strange form of starter. Given that we had waited so long to go in, we devoured it in moments. We then received our salmon avocado roll, again excellent, with wasabi that got RIGHT up your nose like you just snorted it. I am told I have never had great sushi, and I'm sure I will be told this wasn't it. But it was damned delicious.<br />
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We then waited, and waited, and waited. How long does it take to steam a bun? It would seem about 30 minutes, because I doubt they slow-cooked the pork in that time. The flavours themselves - the sweet pork and zingy miso, was perfect and the sweet sauce that I couldn't even begin to describe (the sake was getting to me) brought it all to life. However, the salad it came with looked like it had been emptied from a Floretti salad bag, and I'd be very, very surprised if that's how Hirata buns come it Taiwan and I feel little that the attention to detail (and margins) got a little squeezed here. The meat was also a little dry towards the edges, which meant more dipping was needed towards the end of the meal.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQk8_EuXj-zbvE1V3HEnQFFFxxkOauyyJeQndOu6ul-nwz87z29SynoU78zJWydQSyz8Ymt_Dwlz_8yz3Uktvl8F8Pq3an3379IEqYTSWnocex8LLT9EDXqWyQgro9eRKL2wYFlEQ6x64/s1600/flesh+and+buns+shashimi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQk8_EuXj-zbvE1V3HEnQFFFxxkOauyyJeQndOu6ul-nwz87z29SynoU78zJWydQSyz8Ymt_Dwlz_8yz3Uktvl8F8Pq3an3379IEqYTSWnocex8LLT9EDXqWyQgro9eRKL2wYFlEQ6x64/s320/flesh+and+buns+shashimi.jpg" width="320" /></a>For pudding we went with a friends recommendation of S'More. Despite sounding like a mix between a Lord of the Rings character and a pound shop, it turned out to be a tabletop campfire with marshmallows for toasting. Joy! On top of that, you got some delicious green (essentially white) chocolate and ginger biscuits to make a sandwich. It really was special - but at £8 for two business-card sized sandwiches not so special you'd want to do it again soon. But by then I was too drunk on Volvic water to care.<br />
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For better fillings I'd go to Yum Bun, but Flesh & Bun has it's charms.. It's slick, clever and importantly very tasty.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1763926/restaurant/Covent-Garden/Flesh-and-Buns-London"><img alt="Flesh and Buns on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1763926/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117855/Flesh_and_Buns?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Flesh and Buns"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117855/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com041 Earlham Street, London, Greater London WC2H 9LX, UK51.5139585 -0.1263456000000360351.5139115 -0.12642460000003602 51.5140055 -0.12626660000003603tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-2526262415926455902013-08-26T04:12:00.003-07:002013-08-26T04:12:52.616-07:00The Rotary, Old Street: filth, glorious filth<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Probably the best chicken burger I've ever had.</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGpWhHsBkskFTOPjQeBiaL_KmPobf9I3x3IVdHf6xWj42m-N870z0HqDQCUGwGx7YGkCY_abNetj1u9tfunQ-czCAtS4lkbu_qrN4c1Y0f4q-Z33zTB7IfcaDVqyRYy-xoylC-icvijw/s1600/rotary+bar+&+diner+chicken+burger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGpWhHsBkskFTOPjQeBiaL_KmPobf9I3x3IVdHf6xWj42m-N870z0HqDQCUGwGx7YGkCY_abNetj1u9tfunQ-czCAtS4lkbu_qrN4c1Y0f4q-Z33zTB7IfcaDVqyRYy-xoylC-icvijw/s320/rotary+bar+&+diner+chicken+burger.jpg" width="320" /></a>So after my experience at Mahiki's <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/rock-lobsta-mahiki-clamity.html">Rock Lobsta</a> (sic), where if I hadn't paid half price I might have gone postal at the sight of the bill, I wasn't that keen to go to another Carl Clarke restaurant. Along with the roller disco restaurant (which surely is just asking for a dreadful stitch) I decided in my head he was all style over substance.<br />
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But my burger-loving colle<br />
ague came across the Rotary, just south of Old Street roundabout, and was adamant we had to go. He watched my heart sink as I thought about another overpriced attempt to doing something straight laced in a "punk" way. I can assure you, the only punk in the world with enough money to eat at Rock Lobsta is Iggy Pop, or John Lydon since that gut-wrenching butter advert.</div>
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I've gone past the Rotary many a time, glancing into its spacious, seemingly soulless interior, then heading straight past it to Yum Bun. It seems I've been making a mistake.</div>
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Not every time mark you. If you ate what I ate at Rotary every day, not only would your afternoons in the office become more sleep ridden than an unemployed narcoleptic's, but you'd also be larger than Lisa Riley in about a week. Their food is pure filth. Pure, gorgeous filth.</div>
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<h4>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHTftmP3W0ATZWihyQPT4dvAo6FDu0dWluOyuyn9cir-XADp6ZZ3MCsLhyphenhyphenyR54nox9Ls-HUdvoK3wzL7SxhEPcX1I0XlheGjWNt6pN7FVRh9TWPSJf-Gn_6BSVXtKPIWM8ufiyhyphenhyphenwACc/s1600/Rotary+bar+&+diner+old+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidHTftmP3W0ATZWihyQPT4dvAo6FDu0dWluOyuyn9cir-XADp6ZZ3MCsLhyphenhyphenyR54nox9Ls-HUdvoK3wzL7SxhEPcX1I0XlheGjWNt6pN7FVRh9TWPSJf-Gn_6BSVXtKPIWM8ufiyhyphenhyphenwACc/s320/Rotary+bar+&+diner+old+street.jpg" width="320" /></a></h4>
<h3>
Burger me</h3>
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<div>
I had the chicken burger, the healthy cop out. But at £12 I was expecting something pretty special, and this one was no compromise. Deep fried in what felt like an inch of batter, coated in spoonfuls of tangy, moreish burger sauce and topped with crunchy shredded veg it was almost more than a man should, or even could, stand. At first bite there was nothing clever, but on second look it was genius. How the bun didn't turn to mush I don't know, how the batter was crispy even in the sauce is a mystery, and how I managed to eat it is a question I'm still asking myself. Sometimes I have Vietnam-style flashbacks as I sweated and strained my way through it, but I never wanted to stop.</div>
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<div>
The chips were the perfect mix of trash and genius too. Looking and initially tasting like the perfect McDonald's chips – the ones in your head before you get the box of droopy starchy twigs – they were so much more satisfying, with their meaty flavours from the beef dripping. Not a place for vegetarians then. </div>
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And that's the only issue with the Rotary. Just like at Clarke's Rock Lobsta (sic) I have no idea who would eat there. We went on a Thursday lunchtime, when office workers try to convince themselves the weekend is almost upon them, and it was pretty much dead. It was,<br />
in all truthfulness, far, far too much for lunch. I felt like a bag of sand for about 24 hours. So it's an evening thing, but I rather think most people run from Old Street as soon as 5.30 hits. It's not really somewhere you want to stick around in unless you're headed to Fifteen, the Nightjar or the Old Fountain. I admire Clarke's ballsy approach for putting restaurants where they don't belong (Silicon roundabout, a roller disco and a crap nightclub) but whether it makes business sense I don't know.<br />
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Still, I'll be back. But I might skip breakfast beforehand.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1734036/restaurant/Shoreditch/The-Rotary-Bar-Diner-London"><img alt="The Rotary Bar & Diner on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1734036/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117165/Rotary?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Rotary"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117165/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com070 City Road, London Borough of Islington, London EC2A 1SA, UK51.5196165 -0.08708000000001447930.993530999999997 -41.571455000000014 72.045702 41.397294999999986tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-85552448451585982662013-08-13T06:57:00.000-07:002013-08-13T06:57:07.403-07:00Five Guys Covent Garden: fast food failure<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Not fast. Not cheap. Not that tasty.</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwkqaMvRvyFWYrg9QI-oYwJbLU68rkgxXMPQTfv3PpnWz4eCB8ahTYNg60PzknU0-tkw0-KKcceXoUJn7QBDuK18OMJnNC9Wkg4TKD3plA68Xh-pQ8CK_lI8CHoWmxsh_v10n_XqfyiI/s1600/Five+Guys+covent+garden+burger+all+ways.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwkqaMvRvyFWYrg9QI-oYwJbLU68rkgxXMPQTfv3PpnWz4eCB8ahTYNg60PzknU0-tkw0-KKcceXoUJn7QBDuK18OMJnNC9Wkg4TKD3plA68Xh-pQ8CK_lI8CHoWmxsh_v10n_XqfyiI/s320/Five+Guys+covent+garden+burger+all+ways.jpg" width="320" /></a>BREAKING NEWS: blogger eats burger at trendy new joint.<br />
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Forgive the sarcasm, but sometimes my own hobby bores me. But I had to go didn't I? A London food blog without a Five Guys review would be like a burger with no pattie.<br />
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God knows why though. Because Five Guys fails at EVERYTHING it attempts to be. Like many of my compatriots, my overwhelming feeling after leaving Five Guys was that I had just been on the receiving end of a lot of broken promises. Not all of those promises were made by Five Guys - many by its fans who had visited it in the US - and some were more hurtful than others. But a promise is a promise.<br />
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For a start, there are a lot more than five guys working for them. There were hundreds of minions, all dressed like they were on their way to a baseball game. Five bouncers at the door, five at the registers, five at the chip fryer, five building the burgers and five actually frying them. Then there were five cleaning up and five doing precious little but watching the queue. I make that Thirty-Five Guys.<br />
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It feels a lot like a McDonald's - but red is the colour. There's the crappy plastic diner feel, the queues at the registers and terrible, terrible uniforms. In fact, it would sit quite comfortably next to an Aberdeen Angus Steak House.<br />
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Like most tourist traps it tries to hide behind smiley staff, promises of provenance and fun text on the walls (the best one being "hand shaped burgers" - I really wish they were hand shaped rather than round). I'd say they have misunderstood the kind of people London burger lovers are, but that's not actually their market. Theirs is tourists, Americophiles and, apparently, people who wear K-Swiss and T-shirts with Rihanna on. The bloggers and burger lovers have hated the place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAruW68lMCquZFOQnBgVgCptrDgQPItElfT4CaDO4HDvjkyA-qrkuXG_LgrGLZySkJpwrgYi6JYVQXPZSCSH35tUok1M7GKAenh8QfI9boa7Zx3eQcBFbK_9sQLuZxksk6mNhdFeZid-I/s1600/Five+guys+covent+garden+queue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAruW68lMCquZFOQnBgVgCptrDgQPItElfT4CaDO4HDvjkyA-qrkuXG_LgrGLZySkJpwrgYi6JYVQXPZSCSH35tUok1M7GKAenh8QfI9boa7Zx3eQcBFbK_9sQLuZxksk6mNhdFeZid-I/s320/Five+guys+covent+garden+queue.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a>The experience is pretty stressful. You queue once to order, and then sort of hover around waiting for the food in the middle of the atrium. As always happens when Brits are forced to loiter, a queue forms. So every now and then an employee has to come and break up the queue as it threatens to go out the door. It's a bonkers system.<br />
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<h3>
The burger</h3>
The burger itself wasn't a disappointment - but more because my expectations were pretty low. To be fair, it probably slightly exceeded them. In the flesh they are not half as ugly as most blog pictures imply. It didn't look like it had been run over or delivered to you in an air drop. The meat was nicely cooked - the committee of cooks crowded around the grills evidently voted to take it off the heat at the right time. And the bread and toppings were good and fresh.<br />
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But to say all that is skirting around the issue. It didn't really taste of anything. The meat was almost fat-less and therefore flavourless. And it wasn't so much underseasoned as not seasoned at all. The two patties were generous enough, but both were thinner than the huge wedges of gherkin, which were so big that the predominant texture of the burger was crunchy. Burgers shouldn't be crunchy. They should be sloppy, juicy and almost impossible to eat.<br />
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With the burger you can get spicy or salty chips. By which they mean spicy chips or just chips. I went for just chips. I'd watched the bagger fill my pot with chips, then pour another scoop of chips straight into the bag. That's a lovely touch, because the best bit of going to McDonald's is fishing out those bonus fries from the bag at the end. Sadly I couldn't eat them all. They desperately needed an extra few minutes in the fryer. Some were soft and limp, which is really unpleasant for skin-on fries.<br />
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But the worst bit is the price. At £10.75 for burger and chips it's not cheap. A friend of mine said we shouldn't compare it to our more gourmet burgers because it's fast food. But it invites the comparison by pricing itself wrong. Fast food should be quick, cheap and tasty. Five Guys fails on all counts. It's £1 more than MEATliquor, £2.75 more than Dirty Burger and a whopping £3.25 more than Honest Burger. All of which do considerably better food in better places. The latter of those two do it faster too.<br />
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People will pay the price for a bit of Americana. Hell, I paid the price for a bit of Americana. But all I kept thinking while eating it was this could really do with a bit of Big Mac burger sauce. And that's not a good sign is it?<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1745997/restaurant/Covent-Garden/Five-Guys-Burgers-Fries-London"><img alt="Five Guys Burgers & Fries on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1745997/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117845/Five_Guys?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Five Guys"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117845/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com21 Long Acre, London, Greater London WC2E, UK51.5120724 -0.1264054000000669551.5120334 -0.12648440000006694 51.5121114 -0.12632640000006695tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-55404243896830934142013-08-10T05:18:00.002-07:002013-08-15T01:48:53.872-07:00Pizza Pilgrims: almost perfect<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Best Pizza in Soho. Go now, beat the queues</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1WSMnOY17cV6udvtuUdK8UDDDmar0NBf1M0B_eBPVol6ZDTBqcI0D00_lTD6sdX2mdzzGDng41iWhOO5J2SAt8AEMBkHcdgPBwzGm6ybrvU40BYHSRQlDgXx2ac-k27oaoGBJi6aIcI/s1600/Pizza+pilgrims+soho+dean+street+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1WSMnOY17cV6udvtuUdK8UDDDmar0NBf1M0B_eBPVol6ZDTBqcI0D00_lTD6sdX2mdzzGDng41iWhOO5J2SAt8AEMBkHcdgPBwzGm6ybrvU40BYHSRQlDgXx2ac-k27oaoGBJi6aIcI/s320/Pizza+pilgrims+soho+dean+street+(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I knew from the moment I got to Dean Street something was wrong. But I couldn't put my finger on it. As I approached Pizza Pilgrims my sense of unease grew. I stopped and stared at the place - somewhere I had thought about so much during the day, longing for the clock to strike six while time crawled along. The place looked right - all shiny, green and new, with big windows that let you see their roaring pizza oven.</div>
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That's when it hit me. I could see in. Where was the queue? The braying mob of Instagrammers, bloggers and wannabe media types? I was here, where were my brethren? This is PIZZA PILGRIMS for god's sake. Heroes of the street food scene. With their first pizzeria. On DEAN STREET.</div>
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I probably shouldn't have shouted that in the middle of Dean Street, but I was disorientated. Luckily not so much I couldn't find the door.</div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I’ve always wanted to try their van, but I work in the wrong part of town. Whitecross does many wonderful foods, but Italian is not among them. So at 6.30 we arrived at their pokey little restaurant on Dean Street – right opposite the behemoth of Pizza Express.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We weren't exactly welcomed – there’s no queue so we were ushered inside and asked to sit opposite a sweltering wood-fired oven. There we sat awkwardly on stools and waited. It was a Hello! Magazine short of a GP’s waiting room. Some of us were offered drinks, others nothing.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCiOY7PpR4-_im_zbWw2tla_FETU2Il975LC42G3StLhvrebuzUaMJ23IYFSTw8SrnfF2BoJa80y7kHWYVBEJp_hR1i18kiBVg3z1L9F5MC5nl9vpKxVx0ps2BSuaA1TArQ6Aw7nqnA5w/s1600/pizza+pilgrims+soho+dean+street+panzanella+salad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCiOY7PpR4-_im_zbWw2tla_FETU2Il975LC42G3StLhvrebuzUaMJ23IYFSTw8SrnfF2BoJa80y7kHWYVBEJp_hR1i18kiBVg3z1L9F5MC5nl9vpKxVx0ps2BSuaA1TArQ6Aw7nqnA5w/s320/pizza+pilgrims+soho+dean+street+panzanella+salad.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US">But within five minutes we were told to go downstairs by a nurse. I mean waiter. So we stepped into the cool, tiled cellar. It’s twice the size you’d expect, somewhere between a wine cave and a new gastro pub loo. I was brought a pint of the only beer available (sadly just Moretti) and left to peruse the menu, printed on the ubiquitous landscape brown recycled paper. There’s quite a selection of pizzas. Nothing as complicated as the <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/crate-piss-up-in-brewery.html">Crate Brewery</a> menu, but equally as tempting. Short of listing everything (click here for the <a href="http://pizzapilgrims.co.uk/the-pizzeria/">menu</a>) they had a something for everyone (Margheritas, nduja, salami, truffle), as well as something for no one (here’s looking at you marinara). They also had what turned out to be the best damned panzanella I’ve ever tasted, the secret being seriously thick dough, so that the moisture from the tomato doesn't cause the bread to fall apart but become clumpy like over-cooked gnocchi. Now THAT’S a texture you want in a bread salad.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The panzanella, which we had assumed was a starter, arrived at the same time as the pizza. This was made doubly bonkers because Pizza Pilgrim suffers from small-table syndrome, an affliction that affects 9 in every 10 Soho restaurants. There was simply not enough room for two pizzas, a salad, four glasses and the condiments. </span>Because the panzanella couldn't go cold, we ended up eating it after the pizzas. In such a carb fest though, it mattered less.</div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Best pizzas in Soho</span></h3>
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<span lang="EN-US">My friend and I went for the artichoke, ricotta and smoked garlic oil and the truffle and portobello pizzas, splitting them between us. In their determinedly authentic style, the dough was soft so you could roll and fold and stuff it in your mouth with glee, and the toppings were delicious. </span>I'm not really a fan of pizza bianco, because it often loses the sweetness a pizza needs, but the truffle really sang through on the mushroom pizza. Sadly, the other was less successful. The artichokes were a little dry, and probably could have done with being chopped a little smaller so they weren't like boulders on a flat landscape, and there wasn't a hint of smoke to the garlic oil. Smoke was, in fact, lacking in its entirety due to the fact that their pizza ovens are fuelled by gas. I'd rather see the traditional methods, in keeping with the rest of the restaurant. Smoke also does wonderful things to cheese and bread - they're missing a trick.</div>
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I've heard it said that bad pizza is still pizza (I assume it wasn't a marketing slogan). Anyone who's picked up a Tesco value pizza can testify that's not true. But it's true that at its worst, Pizza Pilgrims do the best pizzas in London. Not the best bases (that goes to Chris Bianco at Union Jacks), not the cheapest (that's <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/franco-manca-doughnt-knock-it.html">Franco Manca</a>) and not in the best place (that's <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/crate-piss-up-in-brewery.html">Crate</a>), but if you want a purist's pizza, there's no where else you can go.<br />
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So where people are going I don't know. Take advantage of the lack of queues, it probably won't last.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1770074/restaurant/London/Pizza-Pilgrims-Soho"><img alt="Pizza Pilgrims on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1770074/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/119775/Pizza_Pilgrims?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Pizza Pilgrims"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/119775/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com111-12 Dean Street, Soho, London, Greater London W1D 3RP, UK51.5148509 -0.1332109999999602230.988800899999998 -41.61758599999996 72.0409009 41.35116400000004tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-84261770512756762772013-07-29T10:05:00.000-07:002013-07-31T08:15:17.296-07:00Honest Burger (Camden): Truly super<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">One of the best British-style burgers – honest</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh444BXd_rsEBaAjBk4X95e7AOv9VaKi6VVVo7W_rZuL02mHFtcbRmR1rQuFiQVaI4P6mWs_kNpFJfnK0I050KZjl2C_0UlaUrFa1w0K-OXJz8MPeTUB3iu4mcxsFgs0rWExTYgSulhpNk/s1600/honest+burger+camden+cheese+burger.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh444BXd_rsEBaAjBk4X95e7AOv9VaKi6VVVo7W_rZuL02mHFtcbRmR1rQuFiQVaI4P6mWs_kNpFJfnK0I050KZjl2C_0UlaUrFa1w0K-OXJz8MPeTUB3iu4mcxsFgs0rWExTYgSulhpNk/s320/honest+burger+camden+cheese+burger.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Just when you think the dude-food-burger craze can't get more crazed, something reminds you that people's appetite for it is insatiable. Last month it was the opening of the universally panned Five Guys and Shake Shack. Then it was the <a href="http://melissafoodie.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/burger-top-trumps.html">burger top trump cards</a> and <a href="http://www.hamburger-me.com/2013/07/hamburger-me-launches-kasun-london-designed-burger-cufflinks.html">cufflinks</a> (!). Now, apparently, people are doing burger crawls all the way from Five guys, through <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/byron-carefully-crafted.html">Byron</a>, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/meat-liquor-bap-to-basics.html">MEATliquor</a>, Patty & Bun, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2011/08/hache-i-got-no-beef.html">Hache</a> and on to the latest fashionable burger bar to make a bid for global domination – Honest.<br />
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Tucked away in the stables of Camden, the third Honest Burger is small, open and slightly weird. Separated from the street by a wooden fence you feel like you're eating in a pig sty. I find it suitable, although quite how you could pig out an Honest Burger after five other cardiac arrests in a bun is beyond me, especially since Honest's portions are by far the most generous of all of them. They were also, with the exception of <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/dirty-burger-worth-its-salt.html">Dirty Burger</a>, by far the cheapest. £8 will get you the feast you see before you.</div>
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There are a couple of other things that set Honest aside from its many, many competitors. The burger itself is decent and flavourful, the bun passable, but it's everything else that matters. They use British cheeses to top the burgers, something I am all for. You have to be in the right mood for American cheese, which is more a pungency in the noise and a oil slick on the roof of your mouth than a flavour. At Honest you can get a mature Cheddar, Red Leicester or, joy oh joy, a Stilton. All of which would have worked a treat with their lovely red onion relish.</div>
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The chips were excellent too – the opposite of <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/bukowki-grill-box-park-rebellion-almost.html">Bukowski</a>'s perfectly formed crunchy monsters, Honest's rosemary salted chips are gnarly, deformed and utterly ridonkulous. They look like hand-chopped actually meant they had Jackie Chan in the kitchen, screaming as he karate chopped his way through tons of spuds for minimum wage. And goddamn it they were delicious. Again, I was let down by the presence of Heinz and Hellman's – both great sauces, but I always want more invention in these places. Once you nail a burger, you need to keep improving things.</div>
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I can't complain about the beer list though – Redchurch dominates and the Bethnal Pale a great choice, but we also really enjoyed the Big Wave – a Hawaiian golden ale we ordered out of sheer curiosity. The friendly waiter didn't even blink as we ordered 5 drinks for four people. He evidently knows his list is good. I liked him a lot until he persuaded us to play a game of credit card roulette, where you all put your card in the bill fold and the person whose card is drawn pays…</div>
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... but I maintain the food was worth the £60 I had to cough up. Honest Burger do great burgers, better toppings and even better chips, with a good beer list. Where else would you go when caught out drunk and hungry in Camden? I can;t think of a better idea. Honest.<br />
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Just make sure you're really hungry, and if you're burger-bar crawling have 999 already dialled out on your phone – Camden Lock might be a bridge too far.<br />
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<a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117853/Honest_Burgers_Camden?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Honest Burgers Camden"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117853/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0London Borough of Camden, Greater London, UK51.541312106649571 -0.1469994449828391251.538843106649573 -0.15204194498283913 51.543781106649568 -0.14195694498283912tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-68296300443559525362013-07-24T14:54:00.001-07:002013-07-24T14:55:15.631-07:00Il Tempo: almost the dolce vita<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">This Aperitivo bar could be so much better</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWugk8NxIHQnqLhly1e0l22f4E8HIv_tI4lTiwsvwNj7vVbwWzK7Mf-2ImYmEw5fwjSA7O8kuR3gJw0DzsUnMQp-yxOHn9MrfFGtaWceHZuOc4sgOReh4QlQvXCqgYKeS3zsoUOh1KiJk/s1600/Il+tempo+aperitivo+wine+bar+covent+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWugk8NxIHQnqLhly1e0l22f4E8HIv_tI4lTiwsvwNj7vVbwWzK7Mf-2ImYmEw5fwjSA7O8kuR3gJw0DzsUnMQp-yxOHn9MrfFGtaWceHZuOc4sgOReh4QlQvXCqgYKeS3zsoUOh1KiJk/s320/Il+tempo+aperitivo+wine+bar+covent+garden.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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What if I told you there is a wine bar in Covent Garden that no one knows about? Where you can waltz in at 7pm on a Friday, grab a table, order a house red for £19 and enjoy free snacks all evening.</div>
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You'd call me a liar wouldn't you? You'd click off this blog raving about lunatics, leaving me to rue such a bold blog entry and calculate "bounce" statistics on Google Analytics. But more fool you, because such a place does exist. It's called Il Tempo, and just happens to be next to one of the best (and therefore busiest) pubs in Covent Garden – the Harp. So while the weekend-lovers jostled for position at the bar and bought two pints each so they didn't have to queue again, my friend and I sat in our air conditioned wine cave, cut off from the bustle of outside by a sense of wellbeing and a MASSIVE coffee machine.</div>
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As we sat and supped our Salento Primativo we took in our surroundings, marvelling at the find. There are lots of reasons why no one seems to know about this place. First and foremost because it looks like a shop. And if it doesn't look like a shop to you, it probably looks like a café - and neither of those places are likely to serve wine and free food. But we weren't complaining. We were in the know. We could now use that timeless, self-inflating phrase "I know this little place not far from here" when we're out with friends and stuck for a venue. So long as you don't say something crass like "a hidden gem", you're suddenly like Samuel Pepys or a walking TimeOut.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NlkOHNmN8s3WDlgKrD_3HbKtQvhLaBUg86spBUb3uZ1dzYw_t-ZtR6PL_4ukujZ95Jq3WXjOy8-NRrqYr6IV6yaPTMISOCZ5fbPxJI97F4JRU_Kq5VOPn0Uv-qhhNt6QDTiePXRz7Qg/s1600/Il+tempo+Il+Tempo+free+food+wine+bar+covent+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NlkOHNmN8s3WDlgKrD_3HbKtQvhLaBUg86spBUb3uZ1dzYw_t-ZtR6PL_4ukujZ95Jq3WXjOy8-NRrqYr6IV6yaPTMISOCZ5fbPxJI97F4JRU_Kq5VOPn0Uv-qhhNt6QDTiePXRz7Qg/s320/Il+tempo+Il+Tempo+free+food+wine+bar+covent+garden.jpg" width="320" /></a>The thing is though, word of mouth is a damned powerful thing in London, so Il Tempo really should be better known. And as I write this it becomes clear why it might not be. For a start the décor needs work – it feels less like an authentic aperitivo bar and more like a dying greasy spoon. It's a beautiful space that they've done nothing with. It's all Ikea furniture and 90s art prints. Of course, outdated decor and great food is pretty much the European way, so we shouldn't judge it on looks<br />
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Sadly, and it kills me to say it, the other problem is that the food, while delicious, needs work. Look at the picture - it looks like the kind of thing Kerry Katona might eat in an Iceland advert, and the pastry-based bites tasted like they had been made a few days ago. That's probably harsh, especially given the risk they take by embracing the way of aperitivo bars in a city famous for wanting everything for free, but this place is so damned close to being the best damned place I've set foot in in Covent Garden that I have to be blunt in the hope it may come to fulfil all my dreams.</div>
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They serve daily specials as mains, which we didn't try, but I'd trust the food enough to – our waiter claimed the chef had worked in a Michelin-starred restaurant. I don't know about that, but I can tell you, if he ups his game, makes the food more inventive and beautiful to look at, and the owners have a little refurb, I might consider using that terrible, terrible term "hidden gem". Maybe.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1727852/restaurant/Covent-Garden/Il-Tempo-London"><img alt="Il Tempo on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1727852/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com048 Chandos Place, London, Greater London WC2N 4HS, UK51.5096739 -0.12586569999996331.086196900000004 -41.434459699999962 71.9331509 41.182728300000036tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-24210285944181510122013-07-18T03:26:00.001-07:002013-07-18T03:26:33.568-07:00Crate: a piss up in a brewery!<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Great beer, great pizzas, Crate place</span></h4>
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Well if ZAGAT says it's the trendiest new bar this side of the sun then I had to go. Because their business model isn't built on the opinions of idiots and the ramblings of trolls. Oh wait.</div>
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Describe Crate with even a hint of cynicism and it sounds like your average person's hell: "Ya, it's a microbrewery bar on the canal,<br />
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in a gentrified industrial estate in Hackney". There were more fixie bikes chained to the railings than there were railings to chain fixie bikes to, along with baggy sleeveless t-shirts (why? Why, why, why?) and rimmed glasses so thick Clarke Kent would have felt out of place.
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But I do Crate a disservice – not something they deserve. It's a beautiful spot along the canal, where the sun catches the water, there are boats moored (that people sit and drink on!) and the inside is decked out industriously and beautifully. Kind of like an art gallery, but a little more soulful. More importantly, with the exception of the moronic trendies drinking white wine at a brewery bar, the locals and staff were friendly, fun and evidently beer lovers. The place was packed for a Wednesday, and not only because Crate's beer is damned fine (especially the kegged IPA) but because their beer fridge is a joy – three kinds of Brooklyn, Racer 5, Flying Dog and Kernel all made appearances and show that the customers know and respect beer almost as much as the owners.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbpTkoQ5hSMG4OaQZI6ah5skoh65VorIuWtKPX7fEm0EsaZF_vp6W5WsfgI0czI2ToLOebLx0tXme91JRp9zFGvr4EV7rHcNv4dtyi3QuPrdTBZ3tti134g1S_8ztCOFbi6x-Vfrv2Cs/s1600/crate+brewery+canal+hackney+wick.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGbpTkoQ5hSMG4OaQZI6ah5skoh65VorIuWtKPX7fEm0EsaZF_vp6W5WsfgI0czI2ToLOebLx0tXme91JRp9zFGvr4EV7rHcNv4dtyi3QuPrdTBZ3tti134g1S_8ztCOFbi6x-Vfrv2Cs/s1600/crate+brewery+canal+hackney+wick.jpeg" /></a>But I knew all that. I was here for the pizza, which I have on a lot of authority (rather than good authority), are amazing. As you can tell from my reviews of Pizza East (in the east) and Pizza East (in the north), I like mine simple, crispy and quick. So at first glance Crate's menu is the stuff of nightmares. They're loaded with toppings – one's that would make a napoli man cross his heart and jump into the nearest wood-fired oven. But the more I read, the more I started salivating. Whoever wrote this menu knows how to combine flavours. I will never, EVER be sold on the laksa chicken ones, but the spiced lamb, pine nuts and spinach was essentially a turkish pizza, and the sweet potato, Stilton and walnut looked ridiculous but tasted incredible.</div>
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But we plumped for the caramelised onion, feta, courgette and mozzarella pizza (how good does that sound?!). Crispy almost to a fault, it left us with charcoal coated hands, like we'd been feeling up Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins. It was sweet, then salty, then oh so cheesy. And it went dynamite with our IPAs, where a plainer margherita might have been overpowered. The dough, it has to be said, completely lacked texture other than crispy – and definitely needs a bit more handworking by the chefs . It's needs to be elastic and not so dry, so you get the doughiness and the crispiness – but the toppings were flawless. Pizza is a meal made for sharing, and perfect for eating outside, and eating it al fresco by the canal was exceptionally pleasant, well worth going right to the end of the overground line.</div>
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Beer should be drunk fresh – ideally straight from the machinery – and this is as close as you'll get. And Crate have done themselves proud with their pizzas too. They may not be the best pizzas in London, but this might the best place to eat one.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1707082/restaurant/Poplar/Crate-Brewery-London"><img alt="Crate Brewery on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1707082/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/109335/Crate_Brewery?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Crate Brewery"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/109335/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com3London E9 5EN, UK51.5429561 -0.02313670000000911451.5404871 -0.028179200000009112 51.545425099999996 -0.018094200000009115tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-52836370879815376932013-07-13T03:04:00.002-07:002013-07-17T01:57:18.691-07:00Mien Tay: a big fish<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">The best Vietnamese on Kingsland Road?</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD2KbGe7zdbzTeED5kM1AFp9rDNhtU3_167CoJU69draA6zapuwT36ITGKYXgrI5EThlZdigcs7NrSGESs9UQc4FzPazWFD6EEwHvQdaEA6exDKKs89Qi9OKugs95YcF98mCI7HXxBp8/s1600/grilled+quail+mien+tay+vietnamese+kingsland+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="grilled quail mien tay vietnamese kingsland road" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZD2KbGe7zdbzTeED5kM1AFp9rDNhtU3_167CoJU69draA6zapuwT36ITGKYXgrI5EThlZdigcs7NrSGESs9UQc4FzPazWFD6EEwHvQdaEA6exDKKs89Qi9OKugs95YcF98mCI7HXxBp8/s320/grilled+quail+mien+tay+vietnamese+kingsland+road.jpg" title="grilled quail mien tay vietnamese kingsland road" width="320" /></a>Five minutes in to my meal at Mien Tay I thought I was going to be writing a polemic on the virtues of eating with someone allergic to fish. The starting point being you get to eat all the free prawn crackers, the climax being they don't want to try your sea bass.<br />
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Sadly, as any long-suffering allergy sufferer's friend will tell you, life just isn't that simple. Especially when your waiter's poor grasp of English means he can't work out whether you're saying you WANT fish in your vegetarian meal, or it will kill you. As a result, despite him eventually checking with the kitchen, my friend ate her meal holding the chopsticks in one hand and her epi pen in the other.<br />
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Surviving a meal is one of the main signs that a meal was a success. Kudos Mien Tay. But there were lots of other signs. My incredible quail, for example, bought on the advice of a Metro review that said that "If you only eat one dish this year, make it the starter of grilled quail at Mien Tay". Now, I don't much fancy only eating one meal for a whole year, especially a meal with as little meat on it as quail, but goodness me it was tasty. Hotter than the fires of hell, I barely blinked as my fingers blistered - all I wanted to do was get my teeth into every tiny fold of skin for the gorgeous marinade of chilli, honey, garlic and spices, which I'd coated in the lime and salt that the quail came with. Almost like a quail slammer. it was the tidiest, most delicious plate I've had in a while.<br />
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At £6 I could have drained my Saigon beer and left happy then. Perhaps I should have, because comparatively my duck in ginger and spring onions was a disappointment. It had about as much gingery tang as glass of milk, amd the egg fried rice had a more addictive flavour. But my friend's deep-fried tofu with chilli and lemongrass was delicious - crispy, slightly sweet, slightly salty and probably distressingly good for you. And all this came to a measly £33, with no deaths.<br />
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Pick the right things, and you might survive. Also, you may find this is the best Vietnamese restaurant you've ever been to.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/622574/restaurant/London/Bethnal-Green/Mien-Tay-Hackney"><img alt="Mien Tay on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/622574/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/103852/Mien_Tay?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Mien Tay"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/103852/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0122 Kingsland Road, London Borough of Hackney, London E2 8DP, UK51.5304168 -0.07707329999993817231.004346799999997 -41.561448299999938 72.0564868 41.407301700000062tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-21541872303519129232013-07-11T06:31:00.000-07:002013-08-26T03:33:39.624-07:00Rock Lobsta Mahiki: a clamity <h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Geddit? CLAMity. Funny and true</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PTPMoCLsYrRnrkYfzxWTt2gPI6z_5qJob9HUT-JVgA26_30y-AopTqGuxgaiUpwyzxQ3S0psWGODVanL-7taOOcJ1paAseSdBIqkCW9HDbn2bIwG146Z8KNq-ggRX5xwHhRXExtRgiw/s1600/rock+lobsta+mahiki+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PTPMoCLsYrRnrkYfzxWTt2gPI6z_5qJob9HUT-JVgA26_30y-AopTqGuxgaiUpwyzxQ3S0psWGODVanL-7taOOcJ1paAseSdBIqkCW9HDbn2bIwG146Z8KNq-ggRX5xwHhRXExtRgiw/s1600/rock+lobsta+mahiki+logo.jpg" /></a><br />
I don't know who they are, but they say do one thing every day that scares you. So yesterday I went to Mahiki. But this was no ordinary Prince Harry-style night out. This was the soft launch of Rock Lobsta (sic), which on their website claims to be where an "east London punk-style lobster bar" (like that's a thing) meets a "world-famous 'Polynesian paradise' Mayfair late night bar" (like that's a full sentence).<br />
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Now, if that sounds like SEO cramming, that's because it is. If it sounds like pathetic PR speak too, that's because it is. If it also sounds like one of the most unsuitable restaurant ventures in recent history, that's because it is. The idea of a punk setting foot in Rock Lobsta (sic), let alone Mahiki, is laughable. It's about as punk as Mervyn King.</div>
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Rock Lobsta (sic) is on the top floor of Mahiki, which is still two floors below Mayfair. Their small attempts to make the faux-Polynesian vibe edgy fall well short. It's mostly posters in frames and their terrible logo that riffs on the now over-riffed "Never mind the bollocks" logo. The rest of the "punk-style lobster bar" is made up of wicker chairs, bamboo tables, mood lighting and, inexplicably, waitresses in playsuits.</div>
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Arriving five minutes early for our booking, we were asked to come back in 15 minutes, which we duly did. We were then sat at the wrong table by our waiter and offered shots by way of apology. Because I doubted he had an aperitif or palate cleanser in mind we politely declined, instead ordering a beer (my friend) and a negroni (made with rum, we're in Polynesia remember!) for myself.</div>
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We were both sceptical about the concept and the food, but had agreed that the drinks at least should be pretty good. We reasoned that HRH Prince Harry probably doesn't drink any old shit. Turns out he does. My negroni was so bitter it was like drinking soap, and my friend's bottle-conditioned Beavertown 8-Ball had been turned upside down in the glass, emptying all the yeast right into the beer. Some people like it that way. But very few.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3gg1sYdQ4CT6JeaEd08xVaHR8c8lMyECjyMdkowBa7vyOYvtnCorGm9ih2YyKqUOVZ7QCcvrR8g3oqPrDIRssY6LgwfDtsTnRN2Y2sTeVchn2NdlLu6UogN87v0nZ9119rkn3MqMZ18/s1600/rock+lobsta+mahiki+lobster+roll.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil3gg1sYdQ4CT6JeaEd08xVaHR8c8lMyECjyMdkowBa7vyOYvtnCorGm9ih2YyKqUOVZ7QCcvrR8g3oqPrDIRssY6LgwfDtsTnRN2Y2sTeVchn2NdlLu6UogN87v0nZ9119rkn3MqMZ18/s320/rock+lobsta+mahiki+lobster+roll.jpeg" title="Rock Lobsta Mahiki lobster roll" width="320" /></a>So, having fallen at the first (and lowest) hurdle, we were pleasantly surprised by the starters. Our deep-fried soft shell crab was a little limp, but loaded with lime and chilli flavours and tasted pretty fresh. The deep-fried beer cheese was also moreish, especially with the Ribman's Holy Fuck sauce (sorry mum, it's the brand name). The corndogs, however, were a real delight and the highlight of the whole meal. Crispy fried in a thin batter, soft and sweet inside, and served with a lovely Thousand Island dressing. I would sit in a quiet corner and eat my bodyweight in them if they didn't cost £3.75 each.</div>
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For the mains we missed the more interesting sounding raw sea bass, put to one side on the menu like the chef didn't really want anyone to buy it, and got half a lobster and a lobster roll – along with chips and "greens". My friend enjoyed his lobster, but given that it was smaller than his forearm you'd need a whole one (at the cost of £32). The same went for my lobster roll – nice dressing, lovely sweet lobster, nice crunchy pickles, but I demolished it in barely 5 bites, and the terrible, lifeless roll it came in would make a french baker foam at the mouth. Having downed the roll I looked to the sides for sustenance, but the chips would have failed a taste test against McDonald's and the greens were delicious only because they were swimming oil and salt, as if dressed in the deep-fat fryer the crabs came from.</div>
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So with a forgettable meal, all I was left to contemplate was the bill, and I couldn't shake the feeling that paying £18.50 for a SANDWICH is actually criminal. To be brutal, the lobster could have been easily replaced with crab at the cost of a little texture, but also the cost of about £6 – not most of a £20 note. </div>
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If I had paid full price (about £120 for three courses and two drinks) I would have been absolutely livid. I'd have been squirting Holy Fuck sauce in people's eyes and breaking Polynesian coconuts on managers' heads. Or I'd have written a strongly worded letter and then never sent it. Probably that actually. Luckily, we paid half price last night, and walked away a little disappointed (and still a bit hungry). </div>
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At the prices you're forced to pay for lobster in this country, it has to be an event. If it can't be on the beach, it should come with Champagne, white table cloths and a snotty waiter, so you can celebrate your "stocks going up" or something. Sadly at Mahiki, you're in a sweat dungeon, and a meal is more likely to be the result of drunken munchies or forceful marketing. </div>
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But the marketing is going to be tough. It's street food opposite the Ritz. It's Dude food in a bankers' bar. I don't know anyone who is going to eat here. I know OF people who will eat there, because there were plenty of suited, square-jawed men there last night, and nothing I say will change their minds – except their first meal there. If you think Mahiki is cool, you'll probably think getting to eat lobster there is cool too, so you'll risk it. To you I say order big on the starters, choose your cocktails wisely, and tip well, because the waiting staff deserve it.</div>
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Eating lobster in Mahiki sounds like the kind of thing royalty might do. But for me, eating in a club is never an event – see my review of <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/aquum-thai-to-be-nice.html">Aquum</a> in Clapham for proof – and nothing about Rock Lobsta (sic) stirs any excitement in me at all. Except the prices.</div>
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Prince Harry, you're welcome to it. And this:<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1759366/restaurant/Mayfair/Rock-Lobsta-London"><img alt="Rock Lobsta on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1759366/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117849/Rock_Lobsta_at_Mahiki?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Rock Lobsta at Mahiki"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117849/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com41 Dover Street, London, Greater London W1S 4LD, UK51.507718399999987 -0.1413763000000471931.084275899999987 -41.449970300000047 71.931160899999981 41.167217699999952tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-88001131607684818082013-07-08T12:07:00.002-07:002013-07-08T12:12:19.371-07:00Clockjack Oven: not ready to fly yet<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Beautiful rotisserie chicken, with flaws on the side</span></b></h4>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In Giles Coren's brilliant "How to Eat Out" (yes I giggle every time I say it too) he talks about the things he hates when reviewing restaurants. Given he has the greatest job on earth you have to talk it all with a pinch of salt, but I agree with him on one thing. You should never get too friendly with the manager or owner, because as soon as you do writing a bad review gets much, much harder. Clockjack's manager is without doubt the most approachable, friendly man I have ever met in the restaurant industry, and it hurts to imagine his face dropping as he reads this. So I want to start by making something very, very clear.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Clockjack Oven's rotisserie chicken is exceptional. Truly exceptional. But there are flaws.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Comparisons to Chicken Shop are inevitable, but aren't quite as useful as you'd think. For a start, Clockjack is built for a rollout. It's clean-cut and smooth, and decked out cheaply but tastefully. It has a Wagamama feel to it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">More significantly for the diner, this is properly English-style chicken: salt, pepper, butter - you can even have it with gravy - while Chicken Shop marinate their chicken in paprika and oregano, which would make the addition of gravy a terrifying prospect. There's also a lot more choice at Clockjack – with wings, fried chicken, sandwiches, salads and sides. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihj_3A6FVU4pMygOVSZ-OIZWxeElTM3mIIp8CgcvMpb38TXZWvAdtnER4jSA0QJLhg0z_UXw7MKoRh8u5C_lILX30E0emtXsu-hzYDKKOVgKL23ykkDgYoWJ8XfboDcDvA_ooJ6o2FLEY/s1600/Clockjack+Oven+bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihj_3A6FVU4pMygOVSZ-OIZWxeElTM3mIIp8CgcvMpb38TXZWvAdtnER4jSA0QJLhg0z_UXw7MKoRh8u5C_lILX30E0emtXsu-hzYDKKOVgKL23ykkDgYoWJ8XfboDcDvA_ooJ6o2FLEY/s320/Clockjack+Oven+bar.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Sadly there was little choice on the beer front and If I could suggest one change to the menu it's update this terrible list. Why Estrella is on there is a mystery, and in the midst of a microbrewery explosion it's mad to ignore it all in favour of mass brewers. Instead we went for wine (a Malbec) and were brought a wine I know for a fact can be bought in Sainsbury's for £7.99. It's a tasty one, but knowing the mark up you're paying (300%) can make it taste a little bitter.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>Getting abreast of things</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Drink issues aside though, everything chickeny was a delight. Perfect rotisserie, seasoned to within an inch of its life and coated in a lovely golden skin. It wasn't as fall-off-the-bone tender as the Chicken Shop's marinated ones, but the flavour was incredible and the choice of dips (chilli, barbecue, ranch and gravy) was much better. After repeated visits I've come to think that Chicken Shop's sauces were far too runny and a little too strong, while Clockjack's are sticky and satisfying in texture but slightly weaker in the flavour stakes.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WMTVmOPS1lTW_rB04GzBHNVRpsZ9OBE6hOFQn3PLBBEPUVm5eG-Peeb4h-7GJLvwikPFmjH5Oubd7C3kxF4_b61uyv2jhsVdcIXjWy31pXvYtm3eKrMLRprjS2JLVngk5uCi27lDfok/s1600/Clockjack+oven+chicken+wings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WMTVmOPS1lTW_rB04GzBHNVRpsZ9OBE6hOFQn3PLBBEPUVm5eG-Peeb4h-7GJLvwikPFmjH5Oubd7C3kxF4_b61uyv2jhsVdcIXjWy31pXvYtm3eKrMLRprjS2JLVngk5uCi27lDfok/s320/Clockjack+oven+chicken+wings.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The chicken bites had all the crunch of KFC minus the guilt about higher-welfare animals and the hands so oily you could lather up the green room of a bodybuilding contest. I'd imagine my heart still skipped a beat with every swallow though. Still, you don't eat out to lose weight.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The wings were marinaded in a lovely, fruity sauce but were slightly overdone, and then served a little cold. They were still a joy though, and the glaze stuck stubbornly to my fingers even after three lemon wipes – always a good sign.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The only foodie blackspot was the veggie bites. Essentially just crunchy coated sage and onion stuffing balls, they were tasty enough but (roast chicken aside) they could not have been more offensive with the ranch dressing, barbecue sauce and chicken wings. Far better would be a spicy bean or sweet potato-based bite that matches the Deep South leanings of the other sideshow dishes. As it is, they look the part, but taste more like something you'd find on your grandma's 40s dining table, with the Constable-print place mats and the boiled sprouts.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANR1g5E3NO95jZ55LIlbAkGmT47VY_GHOQhYukQLZscTmpR_7uCkaE2-cELpMqlc0ShJPQCld5mgx2uswkxPp5TNqkoHvnTQcnrN1bhaEec5x4x3g2RDrxiBR3bAPUJ_qEI18UCpOAi0/s1600/Clockjack+Oven+veggie+bites.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANR1g5E3NO95jZ55LIlbAkGmT47VY_GHOQhYukQLZscTmpR_7uCkaE2-cELpMqlc0ShJPQCld5mgx2uswkxPp5TNqkoHvnTQcnrN1bhaEec5x4x3g2RDrxiBR3bAPUJ_qEI18UCpOAi0/s320/Clockjack+Oven+veggie+bites.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">For pudding we plumped for the Baileys truffles with vanilla ice cream – a beautifully simple concept. The manager was delighted by our choice and came over to claim the recipe as his own and offer us a masterclass in making them, which we may well take up. They were excellent. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I'm usually dead against alcohol in puddings (trifle being my food nightmare) but I couldn't argue with the lovely flavours and that little kick of alcohol that gets up your nose. And I love arguing.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1725631/restaurant/Soho/Clockjack-Oven-London"><img alt="Clockjack Oven on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1725631/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/110011/Clockjack_Oven?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Clockjack Oven"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/110011/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com014 Denman Street, London, Greater London W1D 7HL, UK51.5107489 -0.1353023000000348530.9846384 -41.619677300000035 72.0368594 41.349072699999965tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-22404431054193910572013-06-28T08:25:00.004-07:002013-06-28T09:22:14.944-07:00Sen Viet: 'Nam wasn't so bad<div>
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<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Quick, cheap, delicious. In King's Cross!</span></b></h4>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfklGIAE93D2S5KIy8xE8syRoP7pT6IjwVPtezBJ8zUDJBMQ63aIiCW8-RgXaPBjdvbML-Nnh-OBu2803ZzkAfUm3_SFYetB2wljm2E6OHOxKDZ7txaN_JkEo0nU4Pz4VlIwG1WqcoUD4/s1600/sen+viet+pork+belly+and+egg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfklGIAE93D2S5KIy8xE8syRoP7pT6IjwVPtezBJ8zUDJBMQ63aIiCW8-RgXaPBjdvbML-Nnh-OBu2803ZzkAfUm3_SFYetB2wljm2E6OHOxKDZ7txaN_JkEo0nU4Pz4VlIwG1WqcoUD4/s320/sen+viet+pork+belly+and+egg.jpg" width="320" /></a>King's Cross is not really the kind of place you want to find yourself of an evening. Not only is it currently the country's biggest building site, but it's also a hive of bad kebab shops and takeaways, usually overlooking three lanes of traffic.</div>
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But there's one good pub there, the Queen's Head on Acton Street, and after a few beers we decided their pork pies were just a little too indulgent. So I rather hopelessly googled "good restaurants King's Cross" to see what was around. The result shocked even cynical me: Urbanspoon's top scoring restaurant in King's Cross was a Pret A Manger.</div>
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Further down the list, though, was Sen Viet, where the reviews told us to ignore the kebab house décor outside and risk it. I believe the words "hidden gem" would have been used had I kept reading the google reviews, but they usually have less incite than a Katie Price book. Instead we waltzed around the corner and swanned in to the restaurant, to the general astonishment of the staff. Everyone dining there was Vietnamese. Some say that's a good sign, but would you trust British expats to find the good UK restaurants? Hell no. "English" pubs abroad are always filled with Brits, but they are unerringly shit.</div>
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But Sen Viet was excellent, and deliciously cheap. With a menu longer than the bible it took a while to choose anything, but the sauce on my Thit Heo Kho (pork belly cooked in coconut juice, with eggs) was hot and sweet, and the pork belly melted like butter – which made it almost impossible to eat with chopsticks. Sadly, instead of whole eggs I got a strange almost potato-like cake of it with a bizarre texture, but that couldn't spoil the gorgeous meat and glorious gloop. Even the beer was super – they only had one type called Saigon, which had a Belgian-esque sweetness to it, presumably a happy hangover from French occupation, but slipped down like a drunken penguin on a glacier.</div>
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At £12 for mains, sides, beer and prawn crackers, it's great little cheap eat when you find yourself inexplicably caught short in King's Cross. If you go, write a review - we need to knock Pret A Manger off the top spot.</div>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1597844/restaurant/Kings-Cross/Sen-Viet-London"><img alt="Sen Viet on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1597844/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0119 King's Cross Road, London Borough of Islington, WC1X, UK51.5291254 -0.1158669000000145451.529075899999995 -0.11594590000001453 51.5291749 -0.11578790000001454tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-77504926462037527812013-06-26T03:46:00.003-07:002013-06-28T08:15:15.044-07:00The Haberdashery: best of the brunch<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Best brunch in northern North London</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlg_q-Dssm0SHCC6d3T428ohzyS4xEsR1sf61d2mf_xg37p0UhVwgcgLAwPwi51MqKsMm29NDmyWEd_2vFgd1FAV8jRIZ31bY4raTU_So5pbolFioDuEHUUCf6AYzblls4eKP-Nz52rk/s1600/french+toast+brunch+the+haberdashery+crouch+end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlg_q-Dssm0SHCC6d3T428ohzyS4xEsR1sf61d2mf_xg37p0UhVwgcgLAwPwi51MqKsMm29NDmyWEd_2vFgd1FAV8jRIZ31bY4raTU_So5pbolFioDuEHUUCf6AYzblls4eKP-Nz52rk/s320/french+toast+brunch+the+haberdashery+crouch+end.jpg" width="320" /></a>French toast is a misnomer. It conjures up the idea of something posh, probably topped with foie gras or something else ethically questionable. </div>
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I grew up thinking French toast was the kind of thing Sarkozy put in his rider when he went on diplomatic visits. In my house we called it eggy bread. We ate it with ketchup. We said it while doing a Peter Kay impression. In our minds, there is nothing less french than white bread dipped in milk and egg, then fried.</div>
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We were right. It was invented in Rome in the fourth or fifth century, and most famously cooked in Germany. Neither of those revelations explain why the best way to have it is with British bacon and Canadian maple syrup – with a side of presumably Asian cinnamon bananas. But someone, somewhere, did it, which meant that years later one exceptionally hungover man in yuppy yuppy Crouch End had himself a lovely brunch in an even lovelier place, then went away and scoured Wikipedia to impress some strangers on the internet. He also took a picture of said brunch, now mostly to piss of the self-righteous pricks self-involved enough to think that someone taking a picture of their food could possibly affect their evening.</div>
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And I thoroughly enjoyed it, even if the toast was a little cold by the time it arrived, and it came with a pointless, slightly infuriating garnish of curly parsley. Frustrating to eat at the best of times, curly parsley should never arrive on the same plate as a banana. Especially when the said man feels really rather nauseous already. Still, that was the only pretension in the Haberdashery, which is a wonderful bit of faux-country café culture in the centre of London, complete with rustic wooden tables too small for the purpose, mismatched wooden chairs and even some bunting on the outside. For the hungover like us, the coffee was served in hearty mugs, the cappuccinos in enormous bowls and the smoothies long and full of supposed super-foods. Our pleasingly deadpan waiter, who I sincerely hope is on suicide watch by the owners, also soothed my aching head and alcohol shakes.</div>
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There is no finer place to spend an hour or two in existential crisis, sure that the sky might fall on your head at any moment, and that if it doesn't there is NO EFFING WAY you are EVER drinking again. In fact, we felt so unhurried that when the free tap water finally arrived with the bill we waited around for 30 minutes until we had finished it, soaking up the atmosphere and gathering the strength to leave such a lovely place. Then we went back to the pub.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1516360/restaurant/Haringey/The-Haberdashery-London"><img alt="The Haberdashery on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1516360/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com122 Middle Lane, London Borough of Haringey, London N8 8PL, UK51.581247300000008 -0.1235666000000037531.157759300000009 -41.4321606 72.004735300000007 41.185027399999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-10778729571693217212013-06-25T06:50:00.002-07:002013-07-29T08:26:32.818-07:00Bukowski Grill: box park rebellion (almost)<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Good for drunken munching, not for those in a hurry</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF1CVuvSTQtiOQ-xTXSYolrkvb6BHiOaBIrHI9B0SShDQZ1nQcYyoumyJJ1FOPl4nFUEK08X4QdjLQU9QZUt1QbEdRV-8vfGGxDs4kwjcb6Kt-ubcHFUD5OpJbmoE3T2Z2NDBCOnSRmk/s1600/Purist+burger,+bukowski+grill+box+park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPF1CVuvSTQtiOQ-xTXSYolrkvb6BHiOaBIrHI9B0SShDQZ1nQcYyoumyJJ1FOPl4nFUEK08X4QdjLQU9QZUt1QbEdRV-8vfGGxDs4kwjcb6Kt-ubcHFUD5OpJbmoE3T2Z2NDBCOnSRmk/s320/Purist+burger,+bukowski+grill+box+park.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ah work drinks. The mad dash for the nearest pub, the herds of already-drunk suits at the bar, and the drunken search for food because if you pass out in your clothes again your housemates might call Alcoholics Anonymous.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><br />
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Well I won't let that happen. Not again. So on Friday we stumbled out of the Old Fountain in Old Street (a brilliant craft beer pub you should all go to) and headed for the Box Park – where a poor, lonely waitress at Bukowski Grill took orders from, served and cleared up after 100 unruly drunken hipsters. As we stood and felt ourselves growing old in the queue, we started to muse about giving her a hand to speed up the process. After 15 minutes we were arguing about who we'd kill and eat first in the queue. After 20 we'd worked out who, but not how to tell them. by 25 we were searching for a gun. Instead, we went and bought beers from the Pieminister next door and concentrated on staying drunk. After 30 we started to consider going to back to Pieminister next door to eat – and the only reason we didn't was that every other drunk had had the same idea, and they had sold out of pies.</div>
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Finally we got served by the inexplicably upbeat waitress, and retreated to the long wooden tables that overlook Shoreditch Overground. Not a fine view, but with a Camden Hells in hand there are worse places to be on a Friday. Like a burger joint overlooking Willesden Junction.</div>
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Bukowski Grill's website claims that their "Josper grill" can cook burgers in record time – and to be fair the Purist burgers did arrive pretty quickly. Evidently the chef was having a better time of it than the waitress. However, their promise of sealing in the flavours wasn't so evident. It was a decent burger, but nothing I could even really string a sentence together about. It wasn't as rare as I'd like, the bun was toasted an slightly dry, and the toppings more important to the appearance than the taste. But the chips. God help me the chips. They were a goddamn joy. Fat as Lisa Riley and triple cooked in beef dripping. Its probably the only restaurant in the world where you could drunkenly order a plate of chips and not feel guilty, cheated and disappointed when they arrive. They were a lovely meal in themselves, especially with the homemade peppery mayo which was a lovely touch.</div>
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You should know that I was drunk, starving and made to wait, so on the verge of just biting the nearest person that even resembled a cow, but if you find yourself at Box Park of an evening, skip the shit looking fish and chips, ignore the rum bar (until later) and get yourself a good burger and better chips. At a tenner it's more than decent, and if the queue's big just buy your beers from Pieminister.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1636156/restaurant/Bethnal-Green/Bukowski-Grill-London"><img alt="Bukowski Grill on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1636156/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/108281/Bukowski?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Bukowski"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/108281/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com04 Bethnal Green Road, London, Greater London E1 6HT, UK51.5237894 -0.07455879999997705551.523750899999996 -0.07463779999997705 51.5238279 -0.074479799999977059tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-26289405415983224062013-06-18T13:24:00.001-07:002013-06-18T14:09:46.914-07:00Fish & Chip Shop: off the scale<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Good, but at these prices I want battered whale.</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKangDVVTEjE6lchQ40OOoE-kl_B0VnQUah-F1P-buiz96FppYtZh996GbhvA8CzH8ZO_Fb-rapG5GS7-mMIBTC-NMCqQD-txsKaTmjxfbba5wLgBaoG5Bj3yCfAU6VKokcIAv7M8bgqk/s1600/fried+particulars+fish+and+chip+shop+upper+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKangDVVTEjE6lchQ40OOoE-kl_B0VnQUah-F1P-buiz96FppYtZh996GbhvA8CzH8ZO_Fb-rapG5GS7-mMIBTC-NMCqQD-txsKaTmjxfbba5wLgBaoG5Bj3yCfAU6VKokcIAv7M8bgqk/s320/fried+particulars+fish+and+chip+shop+upper+street.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I've already written a <b>Fish & Chip Shop review</b>. They send you an email asking for your thoughts the very next day. In fact, they are very up on technology: you can book online and get a text straight away; the waiters all have iPads (more on that later); and their pricing is years ahead of 2013. By which I mean they must be predicting some pretty wild inflation, because I've never paid £70 in a fish and chip shop before.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But then I've also never had such good fish and chips – except the one time I cooked them myself with spectacular results (see my instagram). The beer batter, made with Beavertown beer was light and crispy, the fish white as snow and fresh, and the mushy peas absolutely perfect, with just a hint of mint and lemon and a lovely skinless texture. The dish of the day, though, was starter – called "fried particulars" – which were, bafflingly, deep-fried mushy peas with soft ham hock in the middle. Only three came but I would have happily chomped through ten of them. Special praise should also go to the Kn</span>ickerbocker glory dessert, which was as retro and ridiculous as I'd hoped.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf5xED1JVofIQ0Pdw7d-XWjlsVLCuSqoC6C-oAzX0R1PIi1Ozz2liOPCVupmqcUMaa8iwPSm38uX2UxnzFs5ZTwIArRhCE9T6rBRsC4auGCTCnUhIqQSzZoAG7M6GXRDedYCND7ZRhUQ/s1600/Battered+cod+and+chips+fish+and+chip+shop+upper+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOf5xED1JVofIQ0Pdw7d-XWjlsVLCuSqoC6C-oAzX0R1PIi1Ozz2liOPCVupmqcUMaa8iwPSm38uX2UxnzFs5ZTwIArRhCE9T6rBRsC4auGCTCnUhIqQSzZoAG7M6GXRDedYCND7ZRhUQ/s320/Battered+cod+and+chips+fish+and+chip+shop+upper+street.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So it was all pretty brilliant. But was it worth £70? God no. For £13.50 my partner got a lovely fish curry, but barely a fillet's worth of fish, and my cod was by no means a Moby Dick. The whole movement of cutesy comfort food, done simply and done well relies on reasonable prices because the cooking skill required is low. It's all about ingredients. When you look at MEATliquor, Chicken Shop et al they all seem to have agreed to keep prices low – a memo the Fish & Chip shop never received. Perhaps Des McDonald and head chef Lee Bull are too used to charging Ivy pricing, but it's more likely that finding sustainable cod is harder than beef, but that just made me realise how disappointingly mainstream the fish selection was.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">To be fair, we had three courses (although we shared our Knickerbocker Glory). But for fish, chips and mushy peas, you'd be slightly peeved to pay £14.50, especially at the absolute polar ice-cap of Upper Street. It's £11.50 to take away, so where that extra three pounds comes from is a mystery given that they can cash in on drinks and stick a 12.5% for service charge on top of that to eat in. And the service. Oh God. Despite making a huge show and dance of their iPads, they forgot my beer twice before bringing the wrong one; gave us extra asparagus by accident, said it was for free and then charged us for it; and brought extra chips at the main course by accident too. Apparently the chef "misheard the waiter", which made me wonder what the point of the iPads were.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I'll send them my review via my iPad and see if they get the message.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1747264/restaurant/Islington/The-Fish-and-Chip-Shop-London"><img alt="The Fish and Chip Shop on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1747264/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117653/The_Fish_and_Chip_Shop?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of The Fish & Chip Shop"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117653/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0189 Upper Street, London, Greater London N1 1RQ, UK51.5424409 -0.1032490000000052531.1282719 -41.411843000000005 71.9566099 41.205344999999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-90756196977805956712013-05-20T15:02:00.003-07:002013-05-22T06:34:12.419-07:00Harvey Nichols Yo! Sushi: a terrifying future<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Silly food, silly concept. Loved it.</span></b></h4>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fast food: even the sushi wouldn't stay still</td></tr>
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Like most of London, I've just been to <b>Yo! Sushi</b>. But I'm going to write about it. Not because you should go, and certainly not because you shouldn't, but because you should read about it. Because it is a "dining experience" so far removed the what we would imagine that term to mean that I actually found myself slightly angry.<br />
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It was like Mozart (me) being confronted with Cradle of Filth (Yo! Sushi) and wondering what happened to classical music. It was unrecognisable as anything I perceive as food service. What has happened to the structure, the pomp, the sense of occasion, the waiters.<br />
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But wait, there <i>are</i> waiters. Sure, some food comes on a conveyer belt (wtf gf!), bumbling around the restaurant like shit cars from the Jetsons, but the other half you have to order from a prissy waiter. There's no point in the conveyer belt because the company still pays the sodding waiters, and you have to tip them. Apparently bringing hot food straight to your table to order has gone out of fashion, but not so completely out of fashion that we can let go completely. Like deck shoes in Notting Hill.<br />
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<b>Sushi on a roll</b><br />
And on that subject, when did hot food go out of fashion? Why does it now have to do three laps of the restaurant like a fat kid in gym class? I hate faff. I hate wondering whether to pick something, knowing I don't have to decide immediately because it will come back around again. I wanted to chop the arms of the people reaching out and then retracting their arms. Because they wanted it, but just thought that something better might come along. Faff. But then the edamame beans do, and you realise that each second you faff is a second closer to death and, more importantly, a second longer spent wondering why there are sodding conveyer belts. We are not collecting luggage, and this is the Harvey Nichols Food Hall, not an airport.<br />
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If this was an airport, the food would probably be as infuriatingly shit as the concept. But it's not. It's cold, for sure; it's slightly congealed, granted; is over-seasoned, inevitably (it's Japanese); it's effing MOVING AWAY FROM YOU. But god help me, that avocado and salmon handroll was addictive with the (yuzu?) mayo, the gyoza crispy and light, and the korroke (deep-fried meat and/or pumpkin with a sweet and sour dip) as addictive as anything I've ever eaten.<br />
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In fact, within about 10 minutes I'd eaten £20 of sushi, and still had eyes for more. And suddenly I understood Yo! Sushi. It throws all kinds of food at you, tempting you and never quite disappointing you, always sucking you in for more. By the time the Generation Game of food was almost over I couldn't remember a single dish. If Jim Davidson had asked me to recite them all I'd have been able to do (after punching him in his misogynistic mouth) would be belch and ask for the cheque. Or pudding.<br />
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I was hooked. I saw the rainbow mounds of plates on other people's tables and thought "I can do that. Gimme those chopsticks". Before you know it you've built a gay pride flag out of sushi plates and spent a week's wages. It's damned clever and means the owners of Yo! Sushi must be very pleased with themselves. And the great thing is, their customers are too.JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-76355378627929070332013-05-13T15:49:00.000-07:002013-05-30T04:38:54.830-07:00Food Revolution Day: how to pick a good restaurant<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Five ways to pick a restaurant to be proud of</span></b></h4>
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This Friday is<b> <a href="http://www.foodrevolutionday.com/" target="_blank">Food Revolution Day</a>,</b> a Jamie Oliver-inspired day of action, when all over the world people go “Come on guys – we have to eat three times a day. Let’s do it properly”. Sure it’s about eating healthily, sustainably and in moderation. But it’s also saying for god’s sake let’s take PRIDE in what we eat and damned well enjoy it. Restaurants should be the shining example of people enjoying food – with no washing up at all unless you forget your wallet.<br />
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The thing is, people don’t really take pride in where they eat out. I don’t mind Pizza Express, but it's hardly somewhere championing one of the greatest joys we have in this world. To do that, we might need to take some risks, but here are some ways to make sure the places you go stand for the same principals as the Food Revolution - eating healthily, sustainably and with moderation, but enjoying every last bloody bite.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LUVlBP6xtq0kPdRiBYbTIl1cbCDpawDPJTiPxskXnla5JmFrJIDUscuLvcWSvGEMI03s44wdsxZDYAwxtOMSzyYWLuNhraprlpLlR8pE1n24cRQTlyU5Kn1zRlsArsONdmim8fVMfi0/s1600/bad+food+photography+menus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LUVlBP6xtq0kPdRiBYbTIl1cbCDpawDPJTiPxskXnla5JmFrJIDUscuLvcWSvGEMI03s44wdsxZDYAwxtOMSzyYWLuNhraprlpLlR8pE1n24cRQTlyU5Kn1zRlsArsONdmim8fVMfi0/s1600/bad+food+photography+menus.jpg" /></a><b>LOOK FOR COLOUR IN THE PHOTOS</b><br />
Now, it’s pretty much a rule that you should never enter, let alone eat in, a restaurant that has pictures of the<br />
food in the windows (<a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/love-letter-to-anonymous-lover-in-china.html" target="_blank">unless drunk</a>). However, if things get desperate they can be a useful tool to work out how good a restaurant is. Whatever cuisine, whatever location, whatever price range, remember that menus should change. Annually at least. If they don’t it means the restaurateur doesn’t give a crap about seasons, ingredient availability, trends, fashions etc. He’s lazy, so why should the chefs be any different? So, if a picture is faded, poorly styled or, go forbid, black and white (no food looks good in black and white) then run away – that menu is OLD. Like the rings of a tree, the less colour it has the older it is, and the shitter the food.<br />
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<b>LOOK FOR PAPER MENUS</b><br />
Before I get into this one I must warn you that this is not a foolproof tip (I myself am a fool, with little proof). If you are in a gastropub, the rule is inverted.<br />
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However, usually it’s a great sign that the chef has to change his menu regularly – this would be partly because of customer feedback, but more because he is using local fresh produce, which means he has to change dishes according to their availability. Good sourcing means good food, and probably a good chef. Unfortunately, restaurateurs know this trick. It’s ruined my trust in blackboards, which are mostly painted with words now anyway, and soon I will come to distrust paper menus. See next year’s tips.<br />
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<b>AVOID THE SUITS</b><br />
Perhaps I’m showing my prejudices here, but in my experience there are two kinds of suited diner. Most suited men I know think a City pub is a glass box at the bottom of their office building, and that beer comes only in yellow and tastes like coke when the syrup’s gone. They think being forced to sleep on the sofa is funny. They eat at places doing 2-4-1 cocktails on a Wednesday and a beer and (horse) burger for £6.99 on a permanent blackboard. Avoid those places and, more importantly, avoid those people.<br />
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The other suited men dine at places like the Ivy or something with “Chez” at the start. Following these men will lead to some pretty good meals, but also to certain financial ruin. For they regard taster menus as good value, happily paying £10 a bite for each course. They know about wine, and thus make some horrendous choices while singing “recession, what recession?” to the tune of Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance March No.1. If you hear good things about a place full of suits, go early, go prixe fixe, and get out.<br />
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<b>LOOK FOR SIMPLICITY</b><br />
If a dish is beautiful, full of fresh ingredients, love and care, you don’t need to write:<br />
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“The loveliest, flakiest, most-Arian beer-battered deep-fried white fish with lemony, soft creamy mushy peas and triple-cooked hand-cut skin-on potato chips”<br />
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Just look for a place that says “Day-boat caught fish & chips with mushy peas”<br />
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That second place has the better supplier, the better fish, the better dish, the better chef and the better restaurateur. They don’t need to oversell their food. It’s simple, and they can answer all their questions, right down to the name of the boat that caught it and what the fish’s last words were. And that attention to detail and concern for welfare and freshness is what will lead to a great meal.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcy4gCCnayFCdBipR2FhrclEDf_n6JDUGv6DkTSkP5oXVhh77ptxDypsIFpYNet2ahehdhCly3aRTF75xa8DUPkc1fyNwGBbEgbl9qoPgW5KiPnbz67uEHGCzjLjfR55t4QdlQgYgppoU/s1600/350px-Harvester_Pub-Restaurant,_Fleet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1204795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcy4gCCnayFCdBipR2FhrclEDf_n6JDUGv6DkTSkP5oXVhh77ptxDypsIFpYNet2ahehdhCly3aRTF75xa8DUPkc1fyNwGBbEgbl9qoPgW5KiPnbz67uEHGCzjLjfR55t4QdlQgYgppoU/s320/350px-Harvester_Pub-Restaurant,_Fleet_-_geograph.org.uk_-_1204795.jpg" width="320" /></a><b>THE SMALLER THE MENU, THE BETTER IT IS</b><br />
Ignoring the trend for doing one thing and doing it well, which has swept London like a tidal surge and <br />
drowned us in wonderful places like <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co/" target="_blank">Chicken Shop</a>, <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/meatmission-holy-hell.html" target="_blank">MEATmission</a> and <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/tonkotsu-my-new-stock-answer.html" target="_blank">Tonkotsu</a>, this is a great rule. Look at the menu for Harvester (see the skid marks in the picture? Someone wanted to get out fast), and consider how shit it is. How the “chefs” must run around like blind mice with ADHD, never sure who they are or which microwave they’re supposed to turn on next. Then look at the Quality Chop House – one option plus veggie alternative, changing every day and printed on paper. I will genuinely put my life, and that of the tiny puppy I have a knife to right now, on you having a better meal there. Even if the chefs had to cook each other’s menus.<br />
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Please don’t prove me wrong. I love puppies.JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-47493988255032332752013-04-25T10:58:00.000-07:002013-05-08T03:24:52.948-07:00Polpo: octopricey<h4 style="font-weight: normal; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">A great night, but Polpo's not a great restaurant</span></b></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhiVFSU1DZbgehyphenhyphen3O4GQolxEJLYQYqgjCjFvX2JfK1x9IilH7D3O2QH-JmdCu2KylTY4kIsVZQI0NICz2H3J0qu6A8J-cwgxH4cMVUSrpekgYDY8SR6DreYEP-F4tYn8fnHjU0hc80Io/s1600/Polpo+london+beak+street+soho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhiVFSU1DZbgehyphenhyphen3O4GQolxEJLYQYqgjCjFvX2JfK1x9IilH7D3O2QH-JmdCu2KylTY4kIsVZQI0NICz2H3J0qu6A8J-cwgxH4cMVUSrpekgYDY8SR6DreYEP-F4tYn8fnHjU0hc80Io/s320/Polpo+london+beak+street+soho.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #232323; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px;">Back when i was trying (failing) to become a music journalist I did a rather cringing stint at the brilliant theQuietus.com, a music website for people with discerning but "acquired" music taste. I turned up all fresh faced, eager to impress, with a list of bands that the great John Doran needed to hear.</span><br />
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</span>It turns out he had heard of all of them, and proceeded to explain why each of them were "absolute shite". John and I didn't agree on a thing, but he taught me the most important lesson any critic, or indeed person, can ever learn.<br />
<span style="font: 14.0px 'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></span><i>"Most things you review are going to be average."</i><br />
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</span>So if you use that as base for reviewing restaurants you will walk out a much happier man, whatever the experience. If it was crap, you can rightly vent; if it was brilliant, you are sated and delighted; if it was average, you can say "That reminded me of Polpo", and then smile.<br />
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</span>The man who founded Polpo is an ex-Ivy man and it shows. He knows how to create a mystique, an identity. More than ever, restaurants are about restaurateurs not chefs, about atmosphere not food. Polpo is a testament to that. The bar downstairs where we waited for our table had loud trendy music, a tattooed barmaid who makes mean and alcoholic cocktails and the walls are slowly, artfully falling down. They told us we'd have to wait 45 minutes for a table, then found one after 20 - somehow managing to make us grateful.<br />
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</span>They sat us so close to our fellow diners we were bumping elbows and poured our (very nice) wine into tiny little tumblers. The menu is simple, so simple you're not quite sure what you're ordering. I was also bemused by the fact that my pizzette cost "7.5". What currency was never made clear, nor how I could halve it, short of biting a coin in half. In the end they charged us £7.50 - which seemed a bit steep given the size.<br />
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</span>Anyway, our Fiorentina pizzette was absolutely delicious, and we also ordered a slightly bland but nonetheless enjoyable mackerel tartare (how you make raw mackerel bland is beyond me, so props to the chef), some very moreish spinach and ricotta balls and slices of lovely oily focaccia. Sadly the dish I was most looking forward to, the ham hock, as salty as licking Lee Evan's face and almost inedible. You shouldn't need to season a stew around ham hock, let alone with a whole brick of salt – although at least that explains why the cheapest cut on a pig somehow cost £9.<br />
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</span>Still, I was so stuffed the better half and I decided to share a pudding. And it was a damned bit of luck we did, given that the nutella pizzette - which we ordered despite the carb fest of the mains and more out of curiosity than hunger - was bigger than the plate. It was also literally buried (and I write this with a great big smile on my face) with nutella, nuts and I think popcorn, but it was never too clear. Anyway, it was the first true bit of invention and, like all good inventions, filled a gap you didn't even know existed. Like a new lover you never knew you were missing.<span style="font: 14.0px 'Lucida Grande';"><br />
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So it seems that Polpo is a great pizza restaurant and a fun bar, where good food doesn't seem to be the focus. Not quite the Venetian Bacaro they were aiming for. The problem is that at £80 for two, it's not quite the humble, community restaurant Bacaros are meant to be. I'm sure the owner would point to Soho rents rather than any greed on his part. But then my answer would be don't make your community in the W1 postcode.<br />
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The fat man claps his hand, but unusually he's not really sure why.<span style="color: black; font: 14.0px 'Lucida Grande';"><br />
</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1480291/restaurant/Soho/Polpo-London"><img alt="Polpo on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1480291/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/102284/Polpo?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Polpo"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/102284/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a></div>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com041 Beak Street, London, Greater London W1F 9SB, UK51.5124071 -0.1374932999999600731.0982356 -41.446087299999959 71.9265786 41.171100700000039tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-18168748960518872002013-04-18T08:41:00.000-07:002013-04-28T03:19:22.284-07:00Sun-soaked dining in London<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<b><span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">The best pub gardens with food in London</span></b></h4>
<span lang="EN-US">"Sun's out guns out" my horrid, horrid university friends used to say. And while they threw rugby balls at each other and laughed about penises (to be fair I did that too) I got the barbecue going, or insisted we went somewhere other than Wetherspoon's for a summery dinner – I grew tired of crying children, tramp stamped young mums and wasps trapped in pint glasses. So here are my favourite <b>pub gardens with food</b>, more of the </span>of the craft beer and leafy corners persuasion. They are all just beautiful places to be in the summer.<br />
<span lang="EN-US"><b><br /></b></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuCOo5V7WadeeKwWkEDk4u8wexEn0iVAtbQ2bIe6b0ogsj-00C-Xq9kHKLpktrKohx8OrSlCP44_q7VxjPST1RVc7KUeJIZAknvFixE_yfd07UJpLlvBLfsJmJf22i3CszxuTe00pySY/s1600/the+stag+hampstead+pub+garden+north+london.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuCOo5V7WadeeKwWkEDk4u8wexEn0iVAtbQ2bIe6b0ogsj-00C-Xq9kHKLpktrKohx8OrSlCP44_q7VxjPST1RVc7KUeJIZAknvFixE_yfd07UJpLlvBLfsJmJf22i3CszxuTe00pySY/s320/the+stag+hampstead+pub+garden+north+london.jpg" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><b><br /></b></span>
<span lang="EN-US"><b>The Stag (NW3) >>></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">My local and a really special place to be on a summer evening. Lots of seating, sun all evening, heaters when it goes cold, and live acoustic music on Sunday afternoon. The food’s great all year around, but in the summer they get a barbecue grill going and produce trashy pulled pork, burgers and such. It also has 50 varieties of beer in the fridge, so settle in for a long one ladz.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><b>The Avalon, south London (SW12)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I only went there once, and it was busy as hell, but the food looked great and the outside was buzzy, beautiful, and large enough to hold a good few parties. The inside is also large enough to host the Proms, so if (when) it starts raining, everyone has somewhere to go. Give it a shot if you happen by some terrible accident to end up south of the river.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRlDMwMQepLwu3wiHfzFzZPLVCkPmCvC-9sPbGPPfVl-TczRdaOcmFVXWALuDUGJuclAhrkkbUvMWrIJkJwY5_eZjcklpz2VUGnMpUbE1qWJaM2QakohCRy1r8cV4AtpY6iGlT-b9Tcc/s1600/Narrowboat+Pub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkRlDMwMQepLwu3wiHfzFzZPLVCkPmCvC-9sPbGPPfVl-TczRdaOcmFVXWALuDUGJuclAhrkkbUvMWrIJkJwY5_eZjcklpz2VUGnMpUbE1qWJaM2QakohCRy1r8cV4AtpY6iGlT-b9Tcc/s320/Narrowboat+Pub.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><b><<< Narrow boat (N1)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Much more a restaurant than a pub despite
appearances, if you can bag a spot on the balcony you’ll have sun, a canal and
a lovely atmosphere. The food is decent gastro-pub
stuff with a bit more thought than you might expect. If you just fancy a nice
pint (it’s Youngs so pretty good beer), you can get plastic glasses and take it
down to the water or further to the lock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>Spaniards Inn (NW3)</b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Bit of a way from anywhere, but if you’ve
got a bike or fancy an adventure across Hampstead Heath on a summer afternoon, this is well worth the trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Food’s
exactly what you’ll be wanting – pies, burgers, butternut squash salads
(becoming omnipresent on pub menus) and the like – all changing daily. A lovely outside and as far
from London as you can feel in zone 2.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>Albion, Islington (N1)</b></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">A truly gorgeous old pub in the middle of Islington’s richest area. The food’s good and well priced despite the occasional gastro-pub nonsense (triple-cooked chips) , but it’s the lovely garden that’s going to make you love it. You’ll need to book on a weekend or nice evening though – despite the Albion’s weird location it’s hardly a hidden gem.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmm7_43YSIaKiVOnkQK1xP772GIIcICj41IVWiGEd4ttqRPBALnJUZNXXE7H1pfOKWqclnBmCp4I2vVjXyYF3PF9LVmhJrTBADRMk0vkSdX5qB8grL-4-z3zt1VzXDEY15f7ehLgnK_I/s1600/olympic+stadium+view+counter+cafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmmm7_43YSIaKiVOnkQK1xP772GIIcICj41IVWiGEd4ttqRPBALnJUZNXXE7H1pfOKWqclnBmCp4I2vVjXyYF3PF9LVmhJrTBADRMk0vkSdX5qB8grL-4-z3zt1VzXDEY15f7ehLgnK_I/s320/olympic+stadium+view+counter+cafe.jpg" width="320" /></a><b>Counter café (E3) >>></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span lang="EN-US">On paper it doesn’t work – a floating astroturf coated barge attached to a very decent café with an event better brunch menu. But it feels undiscovered and special, does great breakfasts and overlooks the Olympic Stadium. Bonkers but beautiful. </span></span></div>
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<b>Garden Gate (NW3)</b><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Another Hampstead corker. Run by Mitchells
& Butler with their inspired it’s-freehold-but-it’s-not vibe, it has great
great bar selections, a picky and tasty food menu and a lovely, haphazard
outside area, littered with old garden furniture and statues. Perfect for a
long afternoon of ale and Scrabble with friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><b>The Chequers (RH17)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Not in London, but a brilliant day’s ride
for cyclists or a quick train journey for a romantic night away. It’s got great
food, great wine, lovely rooms and a relaxing garden outback, overlooking
rolling fields all the way back to London’s suburbs. It’s also 20 minutes drive
from Brighton, so makes a lovely country stop if you want to make a day trip
there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-19311695675909102422013-04-11T06:07:00.001-07:002013-04-28T03:20:13.559-07:00Yum Bun: things get steamy<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">Buns and lunch, my two favourite things</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ScblSOZOYg5YuLpLB2_WJIarJO-F1OV5e74ROBp0G2AUY2p2Bb3tFQJ-rabbnCqV4UJbaigBGnFPo9TUFO4i0Cu2cS5gll3VuobHt0XLQmFBinEhq9kuDbL1-ewouO50Ns9d8McDDWs/s1600/Yum+Bun+pork+steam+buns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ScblSOZOYg5YuLpLB2_WJIarJO-F1OV5e74ROBp0G2AUY2p2Bb3tFQJ-rabbnCqV4UJbaigBGnFPo9TUFO4i0Cu2cS5gll3VuobHt0XLQmFBinEhq9kuDbL1-ewouO50Ns9d8McDDWs/s320/Yum+Bun+pork+steam+buns.jpg" width="320" /></a>Forget what the health experts say. Breakfast isn't the most important meal of the day (it's not even the second most important). What's the meal we look forward to most? It's lunch isn't it. Stuck at our desks we long for it, and when it's over we mourn it all the way until dinner. It's a comma in our day, a fire escape in a tunnel, a love letter amongst bills in the morning post.<br />
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It's 9.30 at night, dinner's barely swallowed and I'm already planning tomorrow's lunch - that joyous moment when I down tools with one thing on my mind – something hearty, tasty and most importantly CARBY.<br />
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So listen up people like me, what if I told you that there is a place in Old Street where, for just £7.50, you can get an Asian salad, chicken soup, two gyozas and two <b>steamed buns</b>. I first discovered them during an otherwise disappointing meal at <a href="http://fatmanclaphand.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/shoryu-katie-price-of-tonkotsu.html" target="_blank">Shoryu</a> in Piccadilly. Since then my obsession with these beautiful things has grown to reach boiling point recently (literally, I have bought bamboo steamers). I sometimes wake up gnawing at imaginary buns. While writing this I keep getting distracted by my own picture. That soft, doughy texture that's still light as anything; the crunch of the veg next to it; the spicy, sweet fillings and the meaty stuff you cram in them.<br />
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Yum Bun just by Old Street gets it all right with their Bento Box, making soft steamed taco shapes (known as gua bao in Taiwan) they can not only cram but overfill completely without making them tough to eat. They ram it with pork, chicken or salmon, then coat it all in spicy, sweet sauces, before letting you add the chilli sauce – which I can't recommend you do more. I got quite a lot of gristle in my pork but I didn't care. I chewed right through the awkwardness because the idea of stopping didn't even occur to me. True, the gyozas were dry, but they still put a big slobbery smile on your face. There was even a token but tasty salad just to convince you that you're doing your body good. You might be, but who cares: you're doing your soul good.<br />
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And that's why I love lunch.<br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/1741368/restaurant/Shoreditch/Yum-Bun-London"><img alt="Yum Bun on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/1741368/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/117419/Yum_Bun?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of Yum Bun"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/117419/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com031 Featherstone Street, London Borough of Islington, EC1Y, UK51.5245578 -0.08929939999995895151.524519299999994 -0.089378399999958946 51.5245963 -0.089220399999958955tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925456195214062468.post-20917734815856032132013-04-09T03:15:00.000-07:002013-04-28T03:20:59.480-07:00La Cage Imaginaire: love is in the air...<h4 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;">...but not in the food.</span></h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEX2W2XE-SCUx4JN1vYlLNxZIAOp_ycqR7S0UXD2Wpxqfdp2ipbdgSu0LB5ynuaND2tn7cocSESymSNgDcudtOqK97QKDGSmhszYM0oFNRN1RpcxGjGXz104VbiB9quOkdozbDV7DfF_A/s1600/la+cage+imaginaire.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEX2W2XE-SCUx4JN1vYlLNxZIAOp_ycqR7S0UXD2Wpxqfdp2ipbdgSu0LB5ynuaND2tn7cocSESymSNgDcudtOqK97QKDGSmhszYM0oFNRN1RpcxGjGXz104VbiB9quOkdozbDV7DfF_A/s320/la+cage+imaginaire.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Pretty much the last word you expect to write while reviewing a <b>Hampstead French restaurant</b> is "overcooked". Sadly at La Cage Imaginaire, which once translated sounds more like a sex club than a tiny bistro, it is the most defining word.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">On the surface it ticks all the "a bit effing French" boxes. It's a quaint little dining room converted from a Georgian terraced house right in the heart of Hampstead. It serves foie gras and crème brulee, and the waitresses all walk about with their nose in the air and probably call us Ros Bifs when our backs are turned. But I loved all that (except the foie gras, which is incredibly cruel and usually tastes like regurgitated pate) and the service was excellent.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So, boxes ticked, we settled in with a lovely bottle of "rouge" hoping to live the cliché. So really I shouldn't have chosen the scallops with chorizo – a famously Spanish sausage. And sadly they don't seem to know it's precious qualities. When you fry chorizo the most magical thing happens. All that gorgeous oil comes oozing out, coating everything in a bright red dye that just screams with flavour. With the sweet, sauteed scallops it should be incredible, lightened with some lemony rocket. Sadly they grilled the chorizo, letting all that flavour drain away, and then must have slow-cooked the scallops in a water bath. No crust, no oil, no bite - just wet scallop with (by now cold) dry chorizo. My misery was only compounded by the fact that my friend's onion soup (a dish I hate) was not only pretty good, but topped with giant croutons and gruyere cheese.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I consoled myself with the knowledge that I had duck coming. Duck with figs and raisins and mash. How could that go wrong in a Frenchman's hand? Well he overcooks it, that's how – until it's the colour of mud, no longer that glorious blushing pink and leather. If it weren't for the creamy mash and divine fig sauce that it came with, I would have branded it a complete disaster. Meanwhile, my partner's sweet potato and goat's cheese tower was simple and perfect, leaving me to suffer the familiar pang of food envy for a second course.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTLnPupApNfkA9MST0ia71ofeBpGK67_T4fTNu3F6SoKTQ7zLYhmO3Lm3SMGbpR8eNolV3n4VSU1uo93ZR7NYRTD7xUw7IWo13-LsHcxY8tUw5NJseHLxJ59vyN1_hL8PCXulPOh-cic/s1600/la+cage+imaginaire+duck+breast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTLnPupApNfkA9MST0ia71ofeBpGK67_T4fTNu3F6SoKTQ7zLYhmO3Lm3SMGbpR8eNolV3n4VSU1uo93ZR7NYRTD7xUw7IWo13-LsHcxY8tUw5NJseHLxJ59vyN1_hL8PCXulPOh-cic/s320/la+cage+imaginaire+duck+breast.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">And then a third as my date tucked into a giant, deliciously smooth creme brulee, while I tussled with...well I don't actually remember, but isn't that the most damning indictment of them all?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I wanted to love La Cage Imaginaire, and while I was there I did (except during the starter). It's perfect for a date - cosy, charming, friendly, small and slightly stuffy - but the truth is it was like a bad relationship. You cling on and make excuses until the end when, suddenly, you realise they were wrong all along. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But now I feel guilty, because somehow I walked out of that place thoroughly sated and delighted with my night's work. Aside from the food my night was perfect and you can't get away with that statement very often. Perhaps it's true that you can dine out on good wine and great company.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/52/565755/restaurant/London/La-Cage-Imaginaire-Hampstead"><img alt="La Cage Imaginaire on Urbanspoon" src="http://www.urbanspoon.com/b/link/565755/minilink.gif" style="border: none; height: 36px; padding: 0px; width: 130px;" /></a> <a href="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/london/view/107712/La_Cage_Imaginaire?utm_source=Blog&utm_medium=Blog&utm_campaign=Link" target="_top" title="Read Square Meal's review of La Cage Imaginaire"><img alt="Square Meal" height="27" src="http://www.squaremeal.co.uk/restaurants/107712/get-blog-review/image/small.png" width="160" /></a>
JonnyGarretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00275975979363257834noreply@blogger.com116 Flask Walk, London, Greater London NW3 1HE, UK51.5567006 -0.1772392999999965526.0346661 -41.485833299999996 77.0787351 41.1313547