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Blog Reviews from Saying it straight
(menu)As sure as eggs is eggs. Food and law. Not necessarily in that order.
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Newman Street Tavern | Newman Street Tavern
There’s good service and then there is mind-reading. Maybe it was my expression, or maybe they’re just very good at looking after you, but within five minutes of sitting down at the table, one of the waitresses came up and asked whether the music was a little bit too much. It was. I love her. I’d read about this in the FT and thought that it looked extremely me. Slap bang in the middle of Fitzrovia...
Scott's | Scott’s, Mayfair.
When I think of Scotts, I immediately think of two people. One is Nigella, who, if the Daily Fail sidebar of shame is to be believed, practically lives here with her husband, “multimillionaire advertising tycoon” Charles Saatchi. The other is Richard Caring, who also happens to own, on the same road, the Mount Street Deli and the private members’ club, George. I’ve been to both. Obviously...
Bird of Smithfield | Bird Of Smithfield
The restaurant is in Smithfield, in a former pub. You wouldn’t know that though. In the basement, the Birdcage, a nightclub-style bar; on the ground floor a casual café space where you can order small plates of food or just a coffee; on the first floor, the main restaurant; on the second a private, sophisticated, dining room with a separate seating area and on the top, an open roof garden. Something for everyone...
Bone Daddies | Bone Daddies.
I asked the very lovely happy smiley chappie what I should have from the menu. Obviously I had heard of the Tonkotsu ramen, with spring onion, chasu pork and the 20-hour pork bone broth, but happy smiley chappie tells me to ignore the fact that this is their bestseller and instead to order the Tantanmen. This is described as noodles with sesame, chilli, pork mince, bok choy and chicken bone broth...
Kitchen W8 | Kitchen W8
Have the risotto, I insisted. Jerusalem Artichoke with Vacherin Mont D’or and Winter Truffle. Having had it the last time I came, I thought it was a magnificent dish. That is because it contains a number of my favourite things, all in one place...
Pitt Cue Co | Pitt Cue Co
You’d probably walk past it if you didn’t know. Funny lace net grandma curtains, and an upstairs bar, with seven or eight seats at the window, it looks like it was an old and tiny Soho pub. I felt it was absolutely necessary to have the ribs, to see what all the fuss was about. It comes with coleslaw and pickle and some decent bread. It also comes with a side and I chose the green chilli coleslaw...
Vinoteca | Vinoteca.
I had this meal on Tuesday, 19th of February. I know that because I took the menu and put it in my bag. The branch that I went to is the one on Seymour Place which has such things of wondrousnous as Les Senteurs and the competent Donostia...
Fino | A fine time at Fino
And now, I’m going to do a version of the conveyor belt on the Generation Game. Remember that? You had to look at a whole list of items as they whooshed past you and then remember as many as you could so that you could take them home. My version is to try and remember as many of the dishes that I had at Fino this week, without resorting to looking at my photographs. What fun...
Lima | Lima.
Very fashionable, Peruvian food. Almost a trend. Not only this, but Ceviche, and Tierra Peru, in Islington. And whilst at Ceviche, last week, Twitter, in that know-it-all way that it has, told me that I was in the wrong place. Go to Lima, it said, it’s much better. And having now done just that, I can tell you, helpfully that Twitter is right, but it is also wrong. They are both good and whilst there is indeed ceviche and tiger’s milk in the centre of the Ceviche/Lima Venn diagram, they are not, in my view, comparable. One is delicate fine-ish dining and the other is street food/relaxed...
Ceviche | Ceviche. Lots of new words.
So we ordered Yucas, which is fried cassava, with a Huancaina sauce (pronounced wan-kay-eena, naturally) and which is a cheese onion and chili combination. The cassava could have passed very easily for roasted parsnip and £3 this was not going to break the bank altough it would be a good alcohol-sponge. I very much liked the Cancha, which was just simply crunchy roasted Peruvian corn. And then what is billed as ”beetroot salad,, coriander smooth cool Peruvian potato cake”. I’m surprised at this description, as I look at it now, because it tasted very much like avocado, rather than potato...
The Nut Tree | Nut Tree Inn, Murcott.
I have tried to get in here at least half a dozen times. It’s always at the last minute though and I’ve never been successful. Until last week, when they managed to squeeze us in for an early lunch. I had been expecting something good from the reviews and the local chatter, not to mention the Michelin star (not a guarantee of quality, as we all know) and I went with a completely open mind because I haven’t actually spoken to anyone who had been there...
Yauatcha | Yauatcha.
The restaurant is set out on two floors. The top floor, where we sat, is a very modern minimalist space, with clean lines and good lighting and tables not too close to each other. The only problem with the tables however is that they are just too small. And not only the tables. The chairs are not proper size – they seemed halfway between grown-up chairs and something you might find in a traditional Japanese restaurant, but not quite. I’m practically a midget and found the chairs uncomfortable and they would not be particularly kind to a larger posterior – not that I have one of course. I made C choose steered C towards the dim sum set menu. Despite my innate control-freakery I sometimes allow myself to just have the set menu without insisting on a Harry met Sally type of variation, rare though it is, There were enough things like that I liked and recognised and it didn’t seem like bad value for the amount of food. So much for my “little amounts of food” fantasy...
Gail's Kitchen | Gail’s Kitchen.
If you’ve been to a Gail’s Bakery, then you’ll have some idea of the feel of the place. Gail’s Kitchen is their new restaurant. It will be no surprise to you that bread is a key element in their offering and given my deep and enduring love of carbohydrate, this makes me very happy. And on top of the excellent bread selection, that comes as you sit down, you can have some more bread-y things as you go along. The waitress politely suggested that Renaissance Man and I had chosen too much food. She doesn’t know me. I suspect that we could have done justice to our original selection, but no-one, least not me, wants to look greedy – at least not at the beginning and so we stuck with the recommended number of dishes – almost. Renaissance Man did, I am pleased to say, sneak one in at the final moment, for which I was most grateful. I think you could easily demolish 2-3 dishes each. If not more. I know I could...
La Porte des Indes | La Porte des Indes.
The comparatively understated exterior gives you no indication as to what lies within and you walk through a small entrance straight into a two-storey, domed, palm-strewn extravaganza. I wasn’t expecting to find this oversized conservatory behind Marble Arch and it was a surprise. Apparently, it was converted from an old Edwardian ballroom. According to its website, it boasts lots of antique artefacts and a 40ft waterfall. Perhaps I was too engrossed in conversation (it has been known), but I didn’t actually notice the waterfall. No matter, there was plenty to occupy me on the menu...
The Ledbury | The Ledbury. Love, actually.
I like a chef who looks after his customers. To the extent of coming out of the kitchen with a rolling-pin during a riot, even. And the chef in charge here, Brett Graham, is a star. What is it about Aussie chefs? Caravan, Granger & Co and now this. And I wasn’t even trying. Tip: if you want to get a reservation, go and see them. I’d really given up all hope of getting a table before 2013, having tried a few times without success. And you wouldn’t ever drop in on the off-chance. It’s said that they turned away Brangelina. How much do we love that? So I was passing and thought I’d ask. And they had told us that there would only be a tasting menu available, because it was those dead days between Christmas and new year. And the fact that we could actually get in made us worry that they might not be at their best. We’d had a bit of a sub-standard experience a year ago at another normally reliable place and we were a bit wary...
Caravan King's Cross | Caravan King’s Cross.
We had a little taxi-drama – he couldn’t find it and we went down a number of dead ends, before working out that one has to walk across the bridge. But the bridge is impressive, especially at night, leading to a water feature which is as wonderful as it is unexpected. I’m glad that there are security guards, though, because on my own, at night, I’m would not feel entirely safe. Notwithstanding the glamification, it is still the back end of Kings Cross. And it’s dark. IMG_2387 The restaurant is contained in the same warehouse building as St Martin’s School of Art. There is a small sign, resting on the wall. I never thought I would say it, but you can take minimalism too far. And once you do actually make it inside, the space is impressive. Industrial chic, with very high ceilings, it has the feel of something you might find in New York. And there is a coffee roastery at the back which I would like to explore...
Granger & Co | Granger & Co
I’ve got a Bill Granger book. Bill’s Basics. He’s smiling on the front of it. He doesn’t look English. He’s too happy. I liked the idea of his fabled Aussie breakfasts and the pictures are good. I haven’t quite got round to using it.* And I am not covering the breakfast offering, which looks great and needs a whole blog of its own. I have tried to get in quite a few times, but every time I wanted to go, it was at what I would call “normal” eating times and with the no-bookings policy, there is always a long queue. So unless you’re local, or you don’t mind standing around on the pavement in the wrong bit of Notting Hill, don’t even think about coming at peak times...
Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park | Dinner. Deceptively simple.
Do you know, I haven’t been to the Fat Duck in Bray. I know. Ridiculous isn’t it? Except that I don’t really fancy all that food-as-entertainment chemistry lesson cleverness. And not to mention that I haven’t been able to get a reservation yet. And I had trouble getting in here as well. It was only due to the generosity of a kindly banker chap (yes, they really do exist) that I managed to get a table, albeit under the name of a man I don’t know, which confused my guest no end when he arrived early. I have never been known as Adam. Not even to my closest friends...
The River Café | River Café. Mostly marvellous.
The property industry is not really known for being overrun with women. I’m very privileged therefore to be part of a small group who meet annually, as guests of one of that very rare breed, a female property developer. The lunch is always held somewhere interesting and this year I was extremely pleased to discover that we were all going to be eating in the private dining room of the River Cafe. I hadn’t even known that there was one until today. I know. Fail...
The Thomas Cubitt | Thomas Cubitt.
Because I clearly need to learn how to make yet more fattening food, my kind and thoughtful friend E decided that it was essential that I go on a Peggy Porschen cupcake-making course for my birthday treat. We had, mistakenly, both thought that it would be a day of novices playing around with cake, interspersed with quite a lot of cupcake gluttony. We were wrong. There were eight people on the course and at least four of them were semi-professional. One woman was setting up the only cupcake bakery in Luxembourg. Well, you would, wouldn’t you?...
Barrafina | Barrafina. Simple. Perfect.
I was happy that I had finally made it after months of near misses. Greeted by a plate of crispy deep-fried prawns, the recruitment consultant whose guest I was, had chosen wisely. They were incredibly fresh. I’m glad that I hadn’t noticed them earlier, opposite, in the iced display. They were so fresh that they were still actually moving. Not only moving, some of them were actually doing kamikaze dives off the side of the counter. It was a little piece of theatre that I wasn’t quite expecting...
Honey & Co | Honey & Co.
You’d walk past it if you didn’t know. And you wouldn’t know unless you’d read Marina O’Loughlin’s lovely review of this (or at least I wouldn’t). And given her review, I really had to try it. It’s run by a couple of ex-Ottolenghi employees and you can see certain similarities. There’s an attention to detail that’s unusual and a skill with presentation that marks this above the ordinary. I’d say it was Middle-Eastern food, but with a twist. And the twist is that this is actually Israeli food. And therein lies the difference. Israeli food is partly Middle Eastern, to a point, but it’s also Eastern European, and Moroccan, and Syrian and Iraqi and Yemeni and all the other places that Jews originally came from before they settled in Israel...
Meatliquor | MEATliquor. You’ll drool.
I confess, I had not been until last week. My credibility as a food blogger must be brought into question by that , but, in my defence, it was only a month ago that I started eating meat again so don’t judge the Judge too harshly. And you can’t come here without eating meat. I’d had one of those mornings and I needed to commit carbicide. I grabbed a colleague and told him we were going for a burger. I’m not sure it was quite what he was expecting from me but there you go. I’m bored with our internal meeting rooms and this seemed like a good substitute...
10 Greek Street | 10 Greek Street. I have seen the light.
I’ve never quite got over the death of Alastair Little. I’m talking about the restaurant in Soho which bore his name, obviously, not the man himself. Even though I don’t think that he cooked there very often towards the end, it was always consistent and interesting. With simple, fairly minimalist decor, it was my first choice for business lunches and dinners, where I wanted the food to be good and the atmosphere to be relaxed. I always wanted to eat everything on the menu. And no, that doesn’t always happen. Its demise left a gap in my life. Until last night. 10 Greek Street. Others I know have been singing its praises for some time and I’d been before (at lunchtime) but for some reason, hadn’t warmed to its charms...
Nathan Outlaw Seafood & Grill | Outlaw’s Seafood and Grill at The Capital Hotel
Really, I could sum it up in a sentence. Great food, dull room, small portions. If you’d like to hear me elaborate on that, please do feel free to carry on reading. We fancied this, because we wanted somewhere grown-up and quiet. I’m still recovering from a major life event and I’m not in the mood for buzzy glitzy cheery or any variant on those...
Hawksmoor Guildhall | Hawksmoor. I nearly fainted.
I have to make a big fat confession before I start. I was meant to review this for The Lawyer for breakfast. I did have the breakfast, sharing the room with only two other punters, which, given the size of the place was a little disconcerting, but I didn’t get round to posting the review and I need to rectify that. The breakfast was fine by the way, but unless they get more people in to have it, I can’t see it’s worth their while to staff up to fill that cavernous space. And it’s a bit grim for breakfast, being underground. But there you go...
Dabbous | Dabbous. Round 2
Even saying the words “round 2” will irritate some people. It would irritate me. It’s still incredibly hard to get a table here: partly due to the size – I guess around 35 covers – but mostly due to the quality of the cooking, which is unlike anything else in its price range. We started with a drink downstairs. I’m not sure why the bar isn’t being used as an extension of the restaurant and the lawyer in me is thinking planning permission or building regulations. Who knows. But it was empty. I assume that most people don’t know that you can get quite a lot of the restaurant dishes down here with your drinks because, given the booking situation, it should be mobbed...
Le Café Anglais | Le Cafe Anglais.
I wanted to love it. I used to love Kensington Place, in its early days and I love Rowley Leigh‘s writing in the FT, but I didn’t love this. I didn’t hate it either, though, I just wasn’t excited by it. This is the restaurant at the top of the former Whiteleys department store and occupies a corner end of the top floor of the building. The setting is incongruous. To get the restaurant, you need to walk past various cheap and cheerful chain restaurants and the overall effect is very American mall. You would never guess that at the end of the corridor you would find this elegant and atmospheric room. Surrounded by what appear to be the original and very attractive leaded light windows, the decor is pure 1930s art deco – successfully done...
Bar Boulud at the Mandarin Oriental | Bored at Bar Boulud.
I’ve heard C bang on for years about Boulud in New York and how brilliant it is but I’m always a bit wary of the Ramsay-esque spread of sleb-chefs and so I hadn’t rushed to try it. You get there through a side entrance for the Mandarin Hotel, which is a good thing as it feels like a separate restaurant, not a hotel dining-room sort of place, at least it does when you first walk in...
Helene Darroze at The Connaught | For grown-ups. Helene Darroze at The Connaught
Really, I didn’t need nine courses. It was sheer piggery. I could have had six courses and really, I should have done, but you know how it is and to use the famous quote, I can resist everything except temptation...
Galvin Bistrot de Luxe | Galvin Bistrot de Luxe. Use your bus pass.
It’s the sort of place you could take your grandmother. Or someone really dull. It won’t scare them. Unusually, there were a lot of people there over the age of 50 which is always an unexpected pleasure in a Central London restaurant these days especially since I am approaching a milestone birthday of my own and need to know where these places are. Perhaps the oldies like it because this isn’t trendy or quirky and doesn’t have any gimmicks. Or play any music. It’s a simple brasserie, reasonably priced and with competent service. It’s the very first in the Galvin chain and very different to the other Galvin offerings...
28°-50° Marylebone | 28-50 Marylebone. You know you want to.
Heritage. It’s the new organic isn’t it? Really, I don’t think it’s possible to order a non-heritage tomato in Central London anymore. This isn’t just any tomato, it’s an heritage tomato. Purleese. What did we do before? I’m bored with it now. And as if it wasn’t enough it’s spreading to other vegetables. Today, I had “heritage” carrots in 4 different colours.
Savoy Grill at The Savoy | The Savoy Grill. Not what it was.
Offered the Savoy Grill to review, I jumped at it. I was thinking about the Savoy of old, of course, a place of legend. A grown up sort of a place, somewhere you might be taken by your kindly uncle, up from the country to visit his stockbroker and who would repair afterwards to his club, for a snifter and a snooze. If you lived in a 1950’s film that is. According to a 1904 edition of The Times, the Savoy Grill was “where people go to eat a modest luncheon or to dine on the way to the theatre without spending too much time or too much money.” Hmmm. One of those still applies. Guess which? Seen as an extension of No 10, Churchill used to hold Cabinet meetings here and it became a Thatcher favourite. Very male, very con, very trad. A place to see and be seen; politico heaven – never mind the food, smell the power...
Dabbous | Dabbous. It’s the DB’s.
*Warning* This review is fairly pointless because unless you have magic powers, you won’t be able to get a dinner reservation until next July or possibly August...
Locanda Locatelli | Liking Locanda Locatelli.
The unexpected death of Central London during the Olympics meant I could get in on an hour’s notice. That never usually happens here, where visits have to be planned weeks in advance...
Texture | Too much at Texture.
This was compensation for not being invited to beach volleyball. Apparently, the whole of the property industry is going to see this excuse-for-a-sport (which bit of surprised are you, exactly?) and for some reason, my firm’s practice insurer thought I wouldn’t be interested in all that bouncing, so invited me to name the restaurant of my choice. That restaurant was Texture. It’s a joint venture between Agnar Sverrisson and Xavier Rousset and as they are both ex-Le Manoir, you’d expect fine dining and a decent wine list. Their website describes the food as “modern European with Scandinavian influences” and I can’t improve on that...
Donostia | Fancy a Basque?
I’m getting to like Seymour Place. It’s like an alternative Marylebone, full of interesting shops and cafes but just that little bit off the beaten track...
Roast | Roast. Borough Market.
Really, I hadn’t meant to stay for so long, but after the “SW19″ cocktail at the beginning and the unspecified, but very alcoholic cocktail at the end, I suspect that my sense of time was somewhat impaired...