Riddle and Finns Champagne and Oyster Bar
A trip south to London-on-Sea, or Brighton as it's better known, in pursuit of a rare sighting of a culinary hero of mine: Anthony Bourdain. He is appearing as part of the month-long Brighton and Hove Food Festival, courtesy of City Books who have organised this event to promote his latest book, 'Medium Raw'. So, for an investment of £6 each we get to spend an hour listening to Tony talk off the cuff about his culinary adventures, ask questions, get our books signed AND get a free glass of wine! With that and a £4 discount off the book, they are almost paying us to be there.
Afterwards we emerge onto the seafront to a picture-perfect sunset and with an appetite for some really good food. Now those last few words don't usually go hand-in-hand with Brighton - with a few notable exceptions - so I did a considerable amount of internet trawling before the trip and came up with a pearl. Amid a sea of fish and chip shops, there is an island of seafood gastronomy and its name is Riddle and Finns Champagne and Oyster Bar. It is hidden away in the Lanes and we must have circled it several times before finding it - like Diagon Alley, you only find it by magic - and magical it is. A busy open kitchen overlooks a temple of white tiling where shared tables are the order of the day. The menu is extensive, if a little pricey, so it takes us a while to fix on selections. I've a hankering for a fish soup, but first a special of sashimi catches our eyes so we order one to share, along with a bottle of Sauvignon de Touraine (£22). The trio of raw fish - salmon, tuna and scallop - are as fresh as if they'd just come off the day boat (and probably have) and slide down easily. Dover Sole, the king of flat fish, is another special, but as befits its royal status, it is a princely price so we pass. Brill steps in - a much overlooked white fish, Brill can be every bit as meaty as HRH Dover Sole, just maybe not as subtle and certainly not as costly. Here it is roasted and served with sauteed fennel and a beurre blanc, and does a sterling job as a last minute bench substitute. My soup is filled with fishy creatures - a meaty langoustine sitting astride a bowl that's chock-a-block with razor clams (delicious), cherrystone clams, mussels and nuggets of what I take to be salmon, mullet and maybe some haddock. All swimming in a hearty cioppino-style broth. I am a very happy camper working my way through 'til the spoon hits the bottom of the bowl. Everything is just about perfect, the one slip-up is theside of samphire which is tough and stringy, and which should have been caught by the kitchen (the older stalks need to be pulled off their tough cores before serving), but FOH does the right thing and takes it off the bill.
Riddle and Finns is a wonderful fish restaurant - the sort of place that every seaside town needs - they not only know how to cook fish and seafood, they know how to sell it. Our table partners had also travelled some distance to enjoy a favourite dish - wok-fried crab - and were clearly enjoying every mouthful. Elsewhere folk are tucking into giant plates of Fruits de Mer that look like a mermaid's jewel box. It's no wonder R & F proudly list their endorsements from the likes of Gordon Ramsey on the website. We're also told Rick Stein raves about it, and, damnit, so he should. Next time you find yourself in Brighton, make a wish and if you're lucky, you'll find Riddle and Finns.
riddleandfinns.co.uk
Thursday 9 September 2010
Wednesday 8 September 2010
Kitchen W8
Kitchen W8
In these days of text-write, the name of this restaurant gives pause (weight?) but it actually describes its location just off Kensington High Street. Abingdon Road is down at the non-U end of KHS, but there's nothing downmarket about this restaurant. Executive Chef is Phillip Howard whose food we've enjoyed earlier (see The Square Pops Up at Putney), and we are looking forward to a pre-Bank Holiday lunch treat on a typically cool and cloudy day. Summer seems to have skipped out early, handing over August to the gods of Autumn, so the dining room is a welcome retreat from the elements. London seems to have emptied out for the weekend, and few tables are occupied - by the time we leave at 2.30pm it's still spotty though a couple of old writer chums are more than making up for the lack of ambient noise at a nearby table. At first we regret there's no cover of background musak, but in the end just give up and shamelessly eavesdrop.
The plan is to stick to the set menu - 3 courses for a very affordable £19.50 - but another plan is quickly hatched: one 3-course set, and one dish from the A La Carte leaves us open to negotiation on who gets dessert. I start with a dish of thinly sliced pork belly with house-made piccalilli (a mustardy pickled vegetable chutney for my US followers!), chicory and mustard dressing. The pork belly is ethereal and, while the piccalilli may be a touch strong, the mustard dressing is its opposite - subtle and with the right amount of emulsion it sings with the lardo-style silkiness of the pork belly fat while chicory adds a nice crunch. Main courses are, for me, Cornish Mackerel and, for him, Rump of Lamb. The Mackerel is served on a bed of finely diced potatoes, an even finer dice of pickled cucumber and red onion and with an accent of silken beetroot puree. The vinegar in the cucumber cuts the oiliness of the fish perfectly, and the beetroot makes for an interesting counterpoint. The Lamb is perfectly cooked and is the most colourful presentation with a puree of fava beans contrasting with red shallots and a drizzle of rich red wine jus. I manage to snag a taste before it all disappears, and while the lamb is great, it's the puree that enchants - it melts in the mouth, its flavours fleeting across the palate just long enough to make an impression.
Dessert was a no-brainer from the start: roasted figs with an oat biscuit and a vanilla mousse. It's just a question of who gets to eat the most, especially once the first few bites confirm it was the right decision. The vanilla mousse is like a panna cotta, but without the firmness; it's like a cream without the denseness, just somewhere between the two, and it's fabulous. The figs are warm and luscious with the honey lifting their innate sweetness while the biscuit adds a welcome crunch of brown sugar.
The wine list covers all the bases and though the by-the-glass list is disappointingly limited, we each enjoy a 250ml carafe with our dishes - one a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc and the other an Australian Pinot Noir - which both worked well with our dishes.
The conversation at our neighbouring table continues to fascinate - we could probably stay all afternoon but have to drag ourselves away. We'll be back for more another day as food this good and this well-priced deserves a second look - even if we add a little more w8 between us. C u l8r.
http://www.kitchenw8.com/
In these days of text-write, the name of this restaurant gives pause (weight?) but it actually describes its location just off Kensington High Street. Abingdon Road is down at the non-U end of KHS, but there's nothing downmarket about this restaurant. Executive Chef is Phillip Howard whose food we've enjoyed earlier (see The Square Pops Up at Putney), and we are looking forward to a pre-Bank Holiday lunch treat on a typically cool and cloudy day. Summer seems to have skipped out early, handing over August to the gods of Autumn, so the dining room is a welcome retreat from the elements. London seems to have emptied out for the weekend, and few tables are occupied - by the time we leave at 2.30pm it's still spotty though a couple of old writer chums are more than making up for the lack of ambient noise at a nearby table. At first we regret there's no cover of background musak, but in the end just give up and shamelessly eavesdrop.
The plan is to stick to the set menu - 3 courses for a very affordable £19.50 - but another plan is quickly hatched: one 3-course set, and one dish from the A La Carte leaves us open to negotiation on who gets dessert. I start with a dish of thinly sliced pork belly with house-made piccalilli (a mustardy pickled vegetable chutney for my US followers!), chicory and mustard dressing. The pork belly is ethereal and, while the piccalilli may be a touch strong, the mustard dressing is its opposite - subtle and with the right amount of emulsion it sings with the lardo-style silkiness of the pork belly fat while chicory adds a nice crunch. Main courses are, for me, Cornish Mackerel and, for him, Rump of Lamb. The Mackerel is served on a bed of finely diced potatoes, an even finer dice of pickled cucumber and red onion and with an accent of silken beetroot puree. The vinegar in the cucumber cuts the oiliness of the fish perfectly, and the beetroot makes for an interesting counterpoint. The Lamb is perfectly cooked and is the most colourful presentation with a puree of fava beans contrasting with red shallots and a drizzle of rich red wine jus. I manage to snag a taste before it all disappears, and while the lamb is great, it's the puree that enchants - it melts in the mouth, its flavours fleeting across the palate just long enough to make an impression.
Dessert was a no-brainer from the start: roasted figs with an oat biscuit and a vanilla mousse. It's just a question of who gets to eat the most, especially once the first few bites confirm it was the right decision. The vanilla mousse is like a panna cotta, but without the firmness; it's like a cream without the denseness, just somewhere between the two, and it's fabulous. The figs are warm and luscious with the honey lifting their innate sweetness while the biscuit adds a welcome crunch of brown sugar.
The wine list covers all the bases and though the by-the-glass list is disappointingly limited, we each enjoy a 250ml carafe with our dishes - one a Chilean Sauvignon Blanc and the other an Australian Pinot Noir - which both worked well with our dishes.
The conversation at our neighbouring table continues to fascinate - we could probably stay all afternoon but have to drag ourselves away. We'll be back for more another day as food this good and this well-priced deserves a second look - even if we add a little more w8 between us. C u l8r.
http://www.kitchenw8.com/
The Canton Arms
The Canton Arms
A trip to the NFT raises the perennial question of where to eat. While the Southbank has several options we seem to have exhausted most of the best which leaves chains which we try and avoid. The Anchor and Hope is a great gastropub but always has a line out the door and Livebait, a usually reliable fish restaurant, has disappointed of late (both are in The Cut along from The Old Vic). We're left with the chains or finding somewhere in the culinary wasteland to the West on our way into the Waterloo area. Some research digs up The Canton Arms, an old style boozer in Stockwell which has been revamped and has the added advantage of Chef Trish Hilferty, formerly of the very first Gastropub in London, The Eagle in Farringdon, and an alumnus of the aforementioned Anchor and Hope, at the helm. It also boasts a mouth-watering signature dish: the foie gras toastie. Well, that does it - we head for an early dinner weaving through the puzzle of the Vauxhall one-way system like the ball in the pin-ball machine waiting to be thrown out and hoping it's the right exit, and find ourselves in the heart of the Portuguese community that now inhabits Stockwell.
We arrive to a slightly frosty welcome - we put it down to our being the first diners of the evening - but luckily the next waiter cancels it out, he is charming without being obsequious, and friendly without fawning. The moniker Gastropub has been abused to the point of calling in the Social Services - every pub serving food now calls itself a gastropub, taking liberties with the original concept. The Canton Arms however clings tight to the apron strings of the mothership (to mix metaphors), serving simple food in relatively dressed down surroundings at affordable prices. Another box-checker is a good selection of ales and wine. We order a bottle of a white wine from Mas de Daumac Gassac, a standout winery in the Languedoc region of southern France, which is a field blend built around Viognier and Chardonnay. Crisp but with good stone fruit flavours it's an easy all-rounder of a wine.
Of course one of us orders the Foie Gras toastie, while I go with potted shrimps. The fgt disappoints a little - the foie gras only just surviving the heat blast of the Breville toaster - and perhaps the idea needs slightly better execution. The shrimps are served in a preserving jar with a very light mayonnaise rather than straight butter. A sprinkle of dill provides a nice counterpoint. Oddly, we have both ordered the whole grilled plaice - because we like to share we nearly always choose different dishes - but when it comes up we are glad we did. Perfectly cooked, and served on the bone, the fish are swimming in a liquor of buttery, fishy juices. A side of tiny new potatoes help mop up the broth.
There's just time for a shared dessert of a Lemon Pot before curtain-up, and it amply satisfies the sweet tooth with it's edge of tartness.
The Canton Arms is a real find, especially in this neck of the woods, and we know we'll be back for more.
No website currently.
A trip to the NFT raises the perennial question of where to eat. While the Southbank has several options we seem to have exhausted most of the best which leaves chains which we try and avoid. The Anchor and Hope is a great gastropub but always has a line out the door and Livebait, a usually reliable fish restaurant, has disappointed of late (both are in The Cut along from The Old Vic). We're left with the chains or finding somewhere in the culinary wasteland to the West on our way into the Waterloo area. Some research digs up The Canton Arms, an old style boozer in Stockwell which has been revamped and has the added advantage of Chef Trish Hilferty, formerly of the very first Gastropub in London, The Eagle in Farringdon, and an alumnus of the aforementioned Anchor and Hope, at the helm. It also boasts a mouth-watering signature dish: the foie gras toastie. Well, that does it - we head for an early dinner weaving through the puzzle of the Vauxhall one-way system like the ball in the pin-ball machine waiting to be thrown out and hoping it's the right exit, and find ourselves in the heart of the Portuguese community that now inhabits Stockwell.
We arrive to a slightly frosty welcome - we put it down to our being the first diners of the evening - but luckily the next waiter cancels it out, he is charming without being obsequious, and friendly without fawning. The moniker Gastropub has been abused to the point of calling in the Social Services - every pub serving food now calls itself a gastropub, taking liberties with the original concept. The Canton Arms however clings tight to the apron strings of the mothership (to mix metaphors), serving simple food in relatively dressed down surroundings at affordable prices. Another box-checker is a good selection of ales and wine. We order a bottle of a white wine from Mas de Daumac Gassac, a standout winery in the Languedoc region of southern France, which is a field blend built around Viognier and Chardonnay. Crisp but with good stone fruit flavours it's an easy all-rounder of a wine.
Of course one of us orders the Foie Gras toastie, while I go with potted shrimps. The fgt disappoints a little - the foie gras only just surviving the heat blast of the Breville toaster - and perhaps the idea needs slightly better execution. The shrimps are served in a preserving jar with a very light mayonnaise rather than straight butter. A sprinkle of dill provides a nice counterpoint. Oddly, we have both ordered the whole grilled plaice - because we like to share we nearly always choose different dishes - but when it comes up we are glad we did. Perfectly cooked, and served on the bone, the fish are swimming in a liquor of buttery, fishy juices. A side of tiny new potatoes help mop up the broth.
There's just time for a shared dessert of a Lemon Pot before curtain-up, and it amply satisfies the sweet tooth with it's edge of tartness.
The Canton Arms is a real find, especially in this neck of the woods, and we know we'll be back for more.
No website currently.
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