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.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Launceston Place
Launceston Place, Kensington
A birthday celebration gives us an opportunity to knock another name off our Must Eat At list of London restaurants - though as quickly as one gets moved to the 'done' column, another one gets added! That's one of the great attractions of this city, there's always something new to try. LP popped up on our radar screen when sous chef Steve Groves won the BBC's 2009 Professional Masterchef, though it has been a restaurant of regard for many years - even more so when Head Chef Tristan Welch moved into the kitchen after working with Marcus Wareing at Petrus.
The restaurant is a maze of dining spaces in a calming, though sombre, palette and an atmosphere of cool professionalism pervades. Because of the layout, the restaurant never seems full as only two or three tables are visible from our cozy corner - though those we see are occupied. Though the tasting menu is tempting, we soon put it aside in favour of the 3-course prix fixe (£48). My sister and her husband are our dining companions, so it must be the shared dna that prompts she and I to choose the same starter and entree, but when my husband and brother-in-law also plump for identical dishes I conclude that it's some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe in the same way that people come to resemble their pets there's a symbiosis that develops in extended family members. Hmmm. Whatever it is, we choose scallops roasted in their shell, steak tartare and four orders of roast suckling pig. I order an old favourite - William Fevre Chablis - to whet our apetites and pair with the scallops, and it is perfectly balanced: a harmony of stone fruit flavours and crisp minerality. Another favourite, a Margaret River Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend from Leuwin Estate is ordered for the men and their raw meat. The wine list is extensive and well chosen - have to say we were tempted by the Domaine Romanee Conti La Tache, but at £3300 a bottle it stayed a temptation!
Little plates of house-made seasoned potato chips arrive - my guess is it's a clever use of the leftovers from making fondant potatoes as they have large holes in the centre and are tied in small bundles. Too more-ish, they disappear in a hurry!
An amuse-bouche shooter of mushroom consomme and herb foam lands on our plates - the consomme is intense and earthy but we're not too sure about the foam as it tastes a little soapy. I think lavender is the culprit - not easy to pull off without the old lady bath salts subtext and it hasn't worked here. The scallops arrive - 2 giant diver scallops still attached to their shells, and roasted with coastal herbs (I think there might be a bit of a fixation here. Looking back at the menu herbs feature largely in most of the dishes). They are meaty and succulent and the herbs are just right this time. The steak tartare is fairly chunky and wears a dollop of foam - the dish is described as '35-day aged beef tartare, barley, beer and chives' so can only imagine the foam is beer. Our carnivores are enjoying it too much to pass much comment, though the cleaned plates speak volumes.
The Tamworth suckling pig is a pared down plate of slices of tiny tenderloin and a large cube of . . . belly? shoulder? . . . hard to say, accompanied by ethereal potato puree and Alexanders which I later discover is a roadside plant resembling angelica that grows profusely in Kent - who knew? The piggy is delicious, though I am left wondering what happened to the rest of it. The red wine is almost gone - perfect with the pork - so we order another, why not? It turns out it's the last bottle - shame.
As we switch into thinking-bout-dessert mode, a pre-dessert is brought to wake up our palates: a perky little granita. Feeling just a little rushed, we slow up service so we can savour the wine and digest dinner before embarking on the real thing. Luckily the rice pudding souffle with raspberry ripple icecream is advertised as a 20 minute wait, and - there's that symbiosis again - two of our party order it. The other two choose cheese. A small cheeseboard, but choice - Stilton, Camembert and Yarg (a Cornish cheese with a crumbly texture and nice sharp notes) - a good way to polish off the wine. Before that, a cupcake with a candle for the birthday boy - no waiter's chorus though thank goodness! When it arrives, the souffle doesn't quite hit the right note, though I understand the ice-cream made up for it.
There's a whiff of the hunt for a Michelin star here that's for sure - a feeling that's confirmed when we are presented with a cute little package of chocolates as a parting gift - but despite a deft touch with some dishes, there were a few too many hiccups that need to be cured before it reaches that standard.
http://www.launcestonplace-restaurant.co.uk/
A birthday celebration gives us an opportunity to knock another name off our Must Eat At list of London restaurants - though as quickly as one gets moved to the 'done' column, another one gets added! That's one of the great attractions of this city, there's always something new to try. LP popped up on our radar screen when sous chef Steve Groves won the BBC's 2009 Professional Masterchef, though it has been a restaurant of regard for many years - even more so when Head Chef Tristan Welch moved into the kitchen after working with Marcus Wareing at Petrus.
The restaurant is a maze of dining spaces in a calming, though sombre, palette and an atmosphere of cool professionalism pervades. Because of the layout, the restaurant never seems full as only two or three tables are visible from our cozy corner - though those we see are occupied. Though the tasting menu is tempting, we soon put it aside in favour of the 3-course prix fixe (£48). My sister and her husband are our dining companions, so it must be the shared dna that prompts she and I to choose the same starter and entree, but when my husband and brother-in-law also plump for identical dishes I conclude that it's some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Or maybe in the same way that people come to resemble their pets there's a symbiosis that develops in extended family members. Hmmm. Whatever it is, we choose scallops roasted in their shell, steak tartare and four orders of roast suckling pig. I order an old favourite - William Fevre Chablis - to whet our apetites and pair with the scallops, and it is perfectly balanced: a harmony of stone fruit flavours and crisp minerality. Another favourite, a Margaret River Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend from Leuwin Estate is ordered for the men and their raw meat. The wine list is extensive and well chosen - have to say we were tempted by the Domaine Romanee Conti La Tache, but at £3300 a bottle it stayed a temptation!
Little plates of house-made seasoned potato chips arrive - my guess is it's a clever use of the leftovers from making fondant potatoes as they have large holes in the centre and are tied in small bundles. Too more-ish, they disappear in a hurry!
An amuse-bouche shooter of mushroom consomme and herb foam lands on our plates - the consomme is intense and earthy but we're not too sure about the foam as it tastes a little soapy. I think lavender is the culprit - not easy to pull off without the old lady bath salts subtext and it hasn't worked here. The scallops arrive - 2 giant diver scallops still attached to their shells, and roasted with coastal herbs (I think there might be a bit of a fixation here. Looking back at the menu herbs feature largely in most of the dishes). They are meaty and succulent and the herbs are just right this time. The steak tartare is fairly chunky and wears a dollop of foam - the dish is described as '35-day aged beef tartare, barley, beer and chives' so can only imagine the foam is beer. Our carnivores are enjoying it too much to pass much comment, though the cleaned plates speak volumes.
The Tamworth suckling pig is a pared down plate of slices of tiny tenderloin and a large cube of . . . belly? shoulder? . . . hard to say, accompanied by ethereal potato puree and Alexanders which I later discover is a roadside plant resembling angelica that grows profusely in Kent - who knew? The piggy is delicious, though I am left wondering what happened to the rest of it. The red wine is almost gone - perfect with the pork - so we order another, why not? It turns out it's the last bottle - shame.
As we switch into thinking-bout-dessert mode, a pre-dessert is brought to wake up our palates: a perky little granita. Feeling just a little rushed, we slow up service so we can savour the wine and digest dinner before embarking on the real thing. Luckily the rice pudding souffle with raspberry ripple icecream is advertised as a 20 minute wait, and - there's that symbiosis again - two of our party order it. The other two choose cheese. A small cheeseboard, but choice - Stilton, Camembert and Yarg (a Cornish cheese with a crumbly texture and nice sharp notes) - a good way to polish off the wine. Before that, a cupcake with a candle for the birthday boy - no waiter's chorus though thank goodness! When it arrives, the souffle doesn't quite hit the right note, though I understand the ice-cream made up for it.
There's a whiff of the hunt for a Michelin star here that's for sure - a feeling that's confirmed when we are presented with a cute little package of chocolates as a parting gift - but despite a deft touch with some dishes, there were a few too many hiccups that need to be cured before it reaches that standard.
http://www.launcestonplace-restaurant.co.uk/
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Fifteen
Fifteen London
Jamie Oliver's groundbreaking venture in the City was founded in 2002, born of a belief that professional kitchen discipline could help rebuild the life and self-esteem of someone who'd taken the wrong path. Fifteen does just that, taking on the wayward and neglected and putting them through chef apprenticeships - just 15 young people aged 16 to 24 are selected each year and when they graduate the Fifteen Foundation helps them find a position in the industry. The restaurant is a commercial business, with a corps of 90 staff, so there is little room for acting out - these students are expected to respect the regimental hierarchy endemic of all kitchens and learn on their feet. The model has been so successful that there are now Fifteens in Cornwall, Amsterdam and Melbourne. Say what you like about Oliver, who has attracted his fair share of detractors put off by his cheeky chappie, bish-bash-bosh, pukka persona, but his heart is in the right place and Fifteen is proof that his ideas are not just pie in the sky. And his passion for fresh, locally sourced ingredients is at the heart of each restaurant.
We arrive after a long Sunday drive across London, crossing Tower Bridge on our way into the City, and passing the uber-hip Spitalfields Market, the re-imagined flower market which is now home to John Torode's multi-level restaurant, Luxe. That'll have to wait for another day.
I was confused by the Fifteen website and had originally booked for the Trattoria thinking that the Dining Room was closed for Sunday lunch, but on arrival we discovered my mistake and were able to switch. Imaginative renovation to this former warehouse building has brought plenty of light into the lower ground floor which houses the more formal restaurant, and the long narrow room has been carefully designed to allow for flow and space. The busy kitchen is glimpsed as we are led through to our table, where we note how many of the other tables are populated by tourists - many young and Oriental - which reflects both the global popularity of Jamie and the fact that on a Sunday the City suits have vacated and their world belongs to the tourists.
We munch on some fluffy foccaccia with the most incredible olive oil - so fresh, flowery and peppery it's addictive and, lucky for us, can be bought to take home - while we browse the menu, which is an homage to the many local suppliers and resources for the ingredients. So many tough decisions this takes a while . . . finally we are ready. I will have the 'lightest potato gnocchi primavera with peas, broad beans, mint and Pecorino' to start then Porchetta-style pork with puntarelle (a variety of chicory common in and around Rome), braised onions and a salsa di dragoncello - a sauce of chopped egg, bread, capers, tarragon and parsley. He chooses Orecchiete with mussels and tomatoes with a white wine sauce topped with a chilli, basil and anchovy pangrattato (essentially fried breadcrumbs), followed by loin of lamb with a Roman vegetable stew and wild garlic leaf pesto. We also choose the 'wine flight light' option which matches wines to the food - 3 glasses for £15 or 4 for £20 which is a bargain, especially as the glasses are a generous pour.
We wait. And wait. Then the Manager appears with apologies and a bowl of meaty green olives as a peace offering - our ticket was lost, so there will be a delay . . . so, so sorry . . . maybe some more foccaccia while you wait? Yes please, more of the yummy olive oil too - and maybe some balsamic? The Balsamic is as sublime as the oil, aged for so long that the sharp notes have been mellowed out, it is deep, and sweet and syrupy.
Our appetizers finally arrive - the gnocchi are truly the lightest I've ever eaten, like little pillows that melt in your mouth, and the spring vegetables are perfectly cooked. The Orecchiette dish is also a winner, with sweet golden cherry tomatoes mimicking the colour of the mussels (big NZ Green Lips) and, again, everything cooked to perfection. The wines which the sommelier has chosen are a great match too. Lunch could have stopped here and I'd have been happy . . .
The roasted meats arrive next though, and I'm glad it didn't stop. The vegetables get the highest praise when it's announced that he could be a vegetarian if all vegetables were like this. This is not simple food, but it is fundamentally rustic. Once again the wines hit the right note.
We simply cannot find room for dessert, can we? Well, maybe a little glass of dessert wine instead. Ahh, yes. And we'd better have an espresso to aid the digestion too.
I have to say that this is the best Italian food I've eaten outside of Italy - there's such a depth of flavour and intensity to everything that there's a little dance going on in each mouthful. The memory of this meal will stay with us for a long time, and we'll be reminded of it each time we use our new favourite olive oil. So, 10 out of 10 for Fifteen then, JO's great experiment is a win-win, both for the diners and for the budding chefs.
http://www.fifteen.net/
http://www.fifteenshop.net/ to purchase the wonderful Petrolo olive oil.
Jamie Oliver's groundbreaking venture in the City was founded in 2002, born of a belief that professional kitchen discipline could help rebuild the life and self-esteem of someone who'd taken the wrong path. Fifteen does just that, taking on the wayward and neglected and putting them through chef apprenticeships - just 15 young people aged 16 to 24 are selected each year and when they graduate the Fifteen Foundation helps them find a position in the industry. The restaurant is a commercial business, with a corps of 90 staff, so there is little room for acting out - these students are expected to respect the regimental hierarchy endemic of all kitchens and learn on their feet. The model has been so successful that there are now Fifteens in Cornwall, Amsterdam and Melbourne. Say what you like about Oliver, who has attracted his fair share of detractors put off by his cheeky chappie, bish-bash-bosh, pukka persona, but his heart is in the right place and Fifteen is proof that his ideas are not just pie in the sky. And his passion for fresh, locally sourced ingredients is at the heart of each restaurant.
We arrive after a long Sunday drive across London, crossing Tower Bridge on our way into the City, and passing the uber-hip Spitalfields Market, the re-imagined flower market which is now home to John Torode's multi-level restaurant, Luxe. That'll have to wait for another day.
I was confused by the Fifteen website and had originally booked for the Trattoria thinking that the Dining Room was closed for Sunday lunch, but on arrival we discovered my mistake and were able to switch. Imaginative renovation to this former warehouse building has brought plenty of light into the lower ground floor which houses the more formal restaurant, and the long narrow room has been carefully designed to allow for flow and space. The busy kitchen is glimpsed as we are led through to our table, where we note how many of the other tables are populated by tourists - many young and Oriental - which reflects both the global popularity of Jamie and the fact that on a Sunday the City suits have vacated and their world belongs to the tourists.
We munch on some fluffy foccaccia with the most incredible olive oil - so fresh, flowery and peppery it's addictive and, lucky for us, can be bought to take home - while we browse the menu, which is an homage to the many local suppliers and resources for the ingredients. So many tough decisions this takes a while . . . finally we are ready. I will have the 'lightest potato gnocchi primavera with peas, broad beans, mint and Pecorino' to start then Porchetta-style pork with puntarelle (a variety of chicory common in and around Rome), braised onions and a salsa di dragoncello - a sauce of chopped egg, bread, capers, tarragon and parsley. He chooses Orecchiete with mussels and tomatoes with a white wine sauce topped with a chilli, basil and anchovy pangrattato (essentially fried breadcrumbs), followed by loin of lamb with a Roman vegetable stew and wild garlic leaf pesto. We also choose the 'wine flight light' option which matches wines to the food - 3 glasses for £15 or 4 for £20 which is a bargain, especially as the glasses are a generous pour.
We wait. And wait. Then the Manager appears with apologies and a bowl of meaty green olives as a peace offering - our ticket was lost, so there will be a delay . . . so, so sorry . . . maybe some more foccaccia while you wait? Yes please, more of the yummy olive oil too - and maybe some balsamic? The Balsamic is as sublime as the oil, aged for so long that the sharp notes have been mellowed out, it is deep, and sweet and syrupy.
Our appetizers finally arrive - the gnocchi are truly the lightest I've ever eaten, like little pillows that melt in your mouth, and the spring vegetables are perfectly cooked. The Orecchiette dish is also a winner, with sweet golden cherry tomatoes mimicking the colour of the mussels (big NZ Green Lips) and, again, everything cooked to perfection. The wines which the sommelier has chosen are a great match too. Lunch could have stopped here and I'd have been happy . . .
The roasted meats arrive next though, and I'm glad it didn't stop. The vegetables get the highest praise when it's announced that he could be a vegetarian if all vegetables were like this. This is not simple food, but it is fundamentally rustic. Once again the wines hit the right note.
We simply cannot find room for dessert, can we? Well, maybe a little glass of dessert wine instead. Ahh, yes. And we'd better have an espresso to aid the digestion too.
I have to say that this is the best Italian food I've eaten outside of Italy - there's such a depth of flavour and intensity to everything that there's a little dance going on in each mouthful. The memory of this meal will stay with us for a long time, and we'll be reminded of it each time we use our new favourite olive oil. So, 10 out of 10 for Fifteen then, JO's great experiment is a win-win, both for the diners and for the budding chefs.
http://www.fifteen.net/
http://www.fifteenshop.net/ to purchase the wonderful Petrolo olive oil.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Tom Aikens: Tom's Kitchen
Tom's Kitchen, Chelsea
TA is widely acclaimed as one of London's top Chefs so we jumped when an opportunity arose to dine at the Kitchen during the March London Restaurant Festival. The Festival menu was a bargain £15 for two courses, though less of a bargain at £25 for 3 - that's a big jump for dessert - and it was limited to two choices of appetisers and entrees. It was a chilly day, so we both opted for the soup - Beans with duck confit sounded suitably heart-warming. Unusually the soup was a puree and the confit had sunk to the bottom, not making an appearance until halfway through - it was tasty, but not quite as expected.
The entree choices were fish and chips or cottage pie, so one of each please. The pie came in its own Staub pot, and a crisp cheesy topping. Comfort food given the haute cuisine treatment. The fish - pollock, the darling of the sustainable lobby - was cooked well, but the batter was a huge disappointment. Although appearing crisp it was heavy and soggy to the point of being inedible. The chips were so-so - certainly not as good as others tasted recently. No comment was made by staff when gathering the plate full of batter, a mistake as they could have avoided other such disasters coming out of the kitchen. We chose not to take the upcharge on dessert.
We were expecting more from Tom's Kitchen and I got the distinct feeling that it was cruising on its association with its more famous sibling down the road. A treat turned into nothing more than an average meal.
http://www.tomskitchen.co.uk/
TA is widely acclaimed as one of London's top Chefs so we jumped when an opportunity arose to dine at the Kitchen during the March London Restaurant Festival. The Festival menu was a bargain £15 for two courses, though less of a bargain at £25 for 3 - that's a big jump for dessert - and it was limited to two choices of appetisers and entrees. It was a chilly day, so we both opted for the soup - Beans with duck confit sounded suitably heart-warming. Unusually the soup was a puree and the confit had sunk to the bottom, not making an appearance until halfway through - it was tasty, but not quite as expected.
The entree choices were fish and chips or cottage pie, so one of each please. The pie came in its own Staub pot, and a crisp cheesy topping. Comfort food given the haute cuisine treatment. The fish - pollock, the darling of the sustainable lobby - was cooked well, but the batter was a huge disappointment. Although appearing crisp it was heavy and soggy to the point of being inedible. The chips were so-so - certainly not as good as others tasted recently. No comment was made by staff when gathering the plate full of batter, a mistake as they could have avoided other such disasters coming out of the kitchen. We chose not to take the upcharge on dessert.
We were expecting more from Tom's Kitchen and I got the distinct feeling that it was cruising on its association with its more famous sibling down the road. A treat turned into nothing more than an average meal.
http://www.tomskitchen.co.uk/
Murano
Murano, Mayfair.
It was a surprise early Valentine's dinner - the perfect way of celebrating for a couple who think the whole Valentine's thing is a sham and who for years have declared it 'Amateur Night' at any restaurant, preferring to cook a special dinner at home and open a spectacular bottle (or two) without the worry of a DWI.
So, I have my suspicions before we leave the house - after all, this place has been on my must-go list since it opened in 2008 - but I still enjoy the frisson of the 'surprise' when we pull up outside.
I've been a fan of Angela Hartnett's cooking since dining at The Grill at The Connaught when she was the resident Chef, and I've also eaten at The York and Albany on the edge of Regent's Park (like Murano, it is a co-production with Gordon Ramsay). What I love is her simplicity - it takes a huge amount of skill to make food at this level look simple.
The restaurant is airy, light and elegant - very serene and welcoming. Comfortable chairs, nice spacing between the tables, unfussy wall paintings and a touch of originality in the unique light fixtures - an homage to Murano's glass industry.
Once seated at a nice large round table (too often 'two-top' tables are skimpy), we turn our attention to the menu - at £60 for 3 courses it's a bargain considering we're dining at a Michelin starred restaurant. A glass of Ayala Brut helps focus the brain, and we quickly narrow the selections to two starters and a shared entree: I will have the Sea Scallops with Apple and Cucumber Salsa, Pata Negra, Pumpkin Puree and Candied Walnuts, and he'll have the Braised Veal Anolini with a White Onion Puree and a Truffle Broth, followed by Cote de Boeuf for two. The scallops are perfecty cooked, and the accompanying garnishes make each bite magical. I find it interesting that scallops, more than any seafood, often provide a foil to strong flavours (think black pudding, chorizo etc.) but here the notes are subtle and light. I manage to snag an anolini or two, but it's the broth that shines here - it slides over the tongue filling the mouth with haunting truffle - sublime.
Moving from Texas to London has brought a few sacrifices one of which is beef. We were spoiled with an easy availability of marbled slabs of steak which we've been unable to replicate here - when we've tried what looks like a comparable ribeye it is sadly lacking in flavour. So we fall upon the Cote de Boeuf which has been skillfully sliced and plated tableside - maybe a tiny bit under cooked I think - and it doesn't disappoint. Beautifully seasoned. Simply accompanied by rustic potatoes boulangere and courgette 'chips' it hits the mark perfectly. The wine list is swimming with high priced wines but we manage to find a value-priced 'super-Tuscan' - Poggio al Tesoro Sondaia 2005 - and it stands up to that hunk of beef admirably.
All that meat - do we have room for dessert? You bet. I plump for Carmelia Chocolate Mousse with Nougatine, Caramel Bonbon and Salted Almond Icecream - right in my wheelhouse. The sweetness of the caramel playing off dark chocolate, the salt hitting an occasional high note - this was a melody of flavours and textures. The Plum and Spiced Caramel Parfait with a Feuillatine Crunch and Roasted Plum delivered, but couldn't put up much of a fight.
It strikes us, as we linger over a last bite of dessert, that this hasn't really been an 'Italian' meal as one might expect, but rather a celebration of great ingredients prepared with loving care. And after all, isn't love what it's all about?
http://www.angelahartnett.com/
http://www.gordonramsey.com/
It was a surprise early Valentine's dinner - the perfect way of celebrating for a couple who think the whole Valentine's thing is a sham and who for years have declared it 'Amateur Night' at any restaurant, preferring to cook a special dinner at home and open a spectacular bottle (or two) without the worry of a DWI.
So, I have my suspicions before we leave the house - after all, this place has been on my must-go list since it opened in 2008 - but I still enjoy the frisson of the 'surprise' when we pull up outside.
I've been a fan of Angela Hartnett's cooking since dining at The Grill at The Connaught when she was the resident Chef, and I've also eaten at The York and Albany on the edge of Regent's Park (like Murano, it is a co-production with Gordon Ramsay). What I love is her simplicity - it takes a huge amount of skill to make food at this level look simple.
The restaurant is airy, light and elegant - very serene and welcoming. Comfortable chairs, nice spacing between the tables, unfussy wall paintings and a touch of originality in the unique light fixtures - an homage to Murano's glass industry.
Once seated at a nice large round table (too often 'two-top' tables are skimpy), we turn our attention to the menu - at £60 for 3 courses it's a bargain considering we're dining at a Michelin starred restaurant. A glass of Ayala Brut helps focus the brain, and we quickly narrow the selections to two starters and a shared entree: I will have the Sea Scallops with Apple and Cucumber Salsa, Pata Negra, Pumpkin Puree and Candied Walnuts, and he'll have the Braised Veal Anolini with a White Onion Puree and a Truffle Broth, followed by Cote de Boeuf for two. The scallops are perfecty cooked, and the accompanying garnishes make each bite magical. I find it interesting that scallops, more than any seafood, often provide a foil to strong flavours (think black pudding, chorizo etc.) but here the notes are subtle and light. I manage to snag an anolini or two, but it's the broth that shines here - it slides over the tongue filling the mouth with haunting truffle - sublime.
Moving from Texas to London has brought a few sacrifices one of which is beef. We were spoiled with an easy availability of marbled slabs of steak which we've been unable to replicate here - when we've tried what looks like a comparable ribeye it is sadly lacking in flavour. So we fall upon the Cote de Boeuf which has been skillfully sliced and plated tableside - maybe a tiny bit under cooked I think - and it doesn't disappoint. Beautifully seasoned. Simply accompanied by rustic potatoes boulangere and courgette 'chips' it hits the mark perfectly. The wine list is swimming with high priced wines but we manage to find a value-priced 'super-Tuscan' - Poggio al Tesoro Sondaia 2005 - and it stands up to that hunk of beef admirably.
All that meat - do we have room for dessert? You bet. I plump for Carmelia Chocolate Mousse with Nougatine, Caramel Bonbon and Salted Almond Icecream - right in my wheelhouse. The sweetness of the caramel playing off dark chocolate, the salt hitting an occasional high note - this was a melody of flavours and textures. The Plum and Spiced Caramel Parfait with a Feuillatine Crunch and Roasted Plum delivered, but couldn't put up much of a fight.
It strikes us, as we linger over a last bite of dessert, that this hasn't really been an 'Italian' meal as one might expect, but rather a celebration of great ingredients prepared with loving care. And after all, isn't love what it's all about?
http://www.angelahartnett.com/
http://www.gordonramsey.com/
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