BoatLady's Reviews

Four O Nine stands like a lighthouse in the midst of the sea of gastro mediocrity which otherwise characterises the bar-heavy Clapham High Street. Unlike most lighthouses though, it is a bit tricky to find for the first time visitor. The Infernos shipwrecked don't usually stumble in here looking for a kebab, and that's part of its hidden location (find the buzzer, up the stairs, through the mini-roof garden) appeal. There's none of the pretension of a secret restaurant here though. It's all about appealingly rustic, reassuringly traditional-sounding, chunky dishes. One delicious, Albarino-filled glass too many may have impaired my ability to remember all the flavour nuances of my meal but I think it involved a rather pleasant foie gras pate-y thing with a lovely artichoke sauce and then a rabbit pie, which I definitely polished off, along with some crunchy carrot and spring green sides, followed by a chocolate cake with a surprisingly punchy lavender sorbet. The food here never disappoints but you do pay for that reliability: starters are around £8 and mains from £16 to £24ish, so not that cheap for this area, but it is worth it. Despite the many windows which overlook the High St it is quite dark and cosy inside; low lighting and flickering table candles enhance the clandestine mood. The atmosphere has been described as “flat” but I would say it's blissfully subdued and relaxed compared to the carnage outside, as the clientele are clearly here for good eating and drinking, rather than raucous scoffing and boozing. Service is, as befits the venue, professional but friendly. Four O Nine is the perfect place for dates or for an intimate evening with friends and quite frankly it's the best place for dinner around here. Steer your course away from this one only to head for that other beacon, Trinity, if you're looking for something a bit more formal.

Andrew Edmunds is a little, intimate, friendly, filling, unpretentious, fairly-priced, gem of a restaurant perfect for second dates, friendly catch-ups and small group gatherings. I love that the menu changes frequently, implying seasonality and freshness, and has plenty of hearty options. I ordered dressed crab followed by crab spaghetti to much merriment (but the guy next to me went for chicken parfait followed by poussin so he wasn't one to laugh). The first crab was delicious: fresh-tasting, delicate, a whiff of the seaside, with a delicious sharp sauce on the side (of which I would have liked a second dollop, but that's a minor niggle) and good value for a fully stuffed beast at £8.50. But I was sorely disappointed by my main as the chef had committed 2 cardinal pasta sins: firstly, the spaghetti was not al dente but cooked to a denture-friendly sogginess; secondly, some buffoon had broken the strands before throwing them in the pot thus making it impossible to twirl around a fork and shovel in to the mouth. A deliberate insult to the Italians (as any chef worth his salt knows the trick to cooking spaghetti whole), a sop to the terrible Brit habit of cutting up cooked spaghetti (not to be encouraged by the professionals!), or just a trainee error? There was also too much chilli oil for me but that, and the enormous portion size, would no doubt please others. Happily I have had other wonderful mains here (mostly meaty masterpieces) and this meal finished off with a delicious treacle tart which reminded me of school days, but in a good way. The long wine menu included a lovely Gewurtztraminer­/Riesling/Pinot blend which kept me happy too. Service was helpful and efficient as ever and the atmosphere its usual cosy self (although I would have liked to turn down the volume on the hedgie behind us). I look forward to finding another excuse to return to this place which feels blissfully “local” despite its central location.

The Bear managed to put me at my ease despite being well out of my comfort zone in this part of town! We popped in to pick something up (well, 2 dogs) from a friend, ended up staying for a drink, ended up staying for food, ended up staying for the pub quiz. Decor fits in the reasonably familiar theme of ‘modern traditional’ with old style pub tables/chairs, darkish walls and wood galore, enormous stuffed bear on the bar. There's a reasonable range of house wines (5/6 of each colour) as well as the ales and ciders which you'd expect from a freehouse. The menu has the normal pub stalwarts, steaks, pies etc, which look reasonably appetising but I think the quality was fairly mixed. My onglet was so chewy it was not easy eating but the dogs, who got the lion's share as they bypass molars and swallow things whole, gave it 3 woofs out of 5 for flavour. On the upside, the battered fish was very tasty and the side of fries was enormous, so it was reasonable value for money, although mains falls in the not particularly cheap £12-18ish bracket. Service is relaxed and friendly without compromising efficiency, and bonus points to the very personable quizmaster. The Bear seems to have a fairly loyal following which gives the pub a wonderfully warm, neighbourhood atmosphere in which regulars happily talk to strangers (and their dogs!). I imagine the locals are delighted to have this on their doorstep.

Nice little sushi place on Kings Road for a quick pit stop, although I'm not quite sure who their regular clientele is. It's serving up takeaway style stuff: even if you eat in you're still eating out of the box, and you pay up at the tills, like any lunchtime sandwich shop, and then go and find a seat. But there's a large sit down area and the price point is well above the average for lunchtime takeaway: £12 for a box of sushi, although admittedly that was 3 bits of salmon sushi, 8 rolls and couple of bits of sashimi. The quality is surprisingly good though actually. And it is clean, light and airy. Not somewhere to make a special trip to, but definitely a nice alternative for lunch in an area dominated by either run-of-the-mill sarnie options or full on restaurants.

I had wanted to go to The Orange but when I turned up it was so absolutely rammed with wannabe Made in Chelsea types that I beat a hasty, rainy, retreat round the corner to The Ebury through whose enticing windows I could see tables aplenty. My first impression did just that: impressed. The maitre d' lady was charming and sat me at a sofa to wait for my friends whilst I enjoyed a very reasonable Argentinian Malbec, albeit chosen from a wine list with few by-the-glass options. The atmosphere is sophisticated, with the low-slung, well-spaced tables, high ceilings and large windows creating a grandiose airiness. Sadly The Ebury turns out to be a triumph of style over substance. We ordered food from the appetising menu and agreed to the waiter's suggestion of bread to soak up the wine in the meantime. The third time we asked if the bread was actually coming our waiter told us, laughing, that it had been given to another table. When the mains came, incidentally at the same time as some now unnecessary bread, the cooking matched the service. The saddle of lamb was actually cold and rather chewy, with none of the tenderness the lovely pink colour should have heralded. Sides of jersey royals and beans were fine, as were the frites, which were also in fact redundant since my friend had had to change her order from moules frites (off apparently) to gnocchi. I usually forgive service lapses if there's an apology and a smile but our waiter's jokey behaviour throughout the evening was unprofessional and inappropriate. The service shenanigans were topped off when the bill arrived with the bread (which we'd been told would be gratis) figuring twice and the more expensive moules shown. This was amended and the service charge removed altogether, which was the correct response to the general lacksadaisical approach, so it turned out to be £33 a head. I suffered serious indigestion for an hour or 2 afterwards, blame lying with either the food or the disappointment. Now I understand just why… More

I like this little bar so it breaks my heart to write this but come here for cocktails and dancing, not the food. As we were a group and our leader had already negotiated a semi-set menu with Mews which got us off the hook of the usual minimum spend thresholds, it is difficult to know what it might have been like had we been the normal restaurant-goer. But a restaurant shouldn't take your booking if they don't think they can do it justice so here goes… The starters were an odd mix: a plate of hams, some hummous, calamari, a cheeseboard and some edamame. Now, perhaps our leader had agreed to these (and don't get me wrong, I love edamame) but what is a Japanese bean doing on this Brit menu anyway?! Mains were the real issue. Having been asked how we would like our food cooked it was a bit disappointing that, when the steak sarnies were delivered to the table and we asked how they were cooked, the waitress could only say, with a gormless blank face, “vegetarian sandwich anyone?”. Hm, the answer should be a variation on “rare”, “medium” or “well-done”. Do not ask customers how it they want it cooked if you are not going to do it that way. Unsurprisingly it wasn't good and it is difficult to decide which was more dismal: the greyish, tasteless, as it turns out well-done, tepid sliver of steak, with its 2 slices of cucumber on top, or the bread between which it was served, which tasted as if it had been toasted 2 weeks ago, put in the freezer, and then reheated. It was a sorry sight too, all lonely on its plate, but perhaps the chef didn't want to embarrass himself further with a garnish or accompaniment.
On the upside, the bar is quirky and cool and it's in a great location in a cute, tucked away, courtyard near Bond Street. Cocktails are good, although service can be a little slow, and the DJ effortlessly weaves together everything from Run DMC and Rihanna to Arrested Development and Black Eyed Peas. So, a great place for an early evening drink or a night of dancing but if you… More

Unfortunately The Thirsty Bear feels a bit in the middle of nowhere (it's a long, unattractive walk in a pair of heels from Waterloo!) and the atmosphere inside reflects this. There are large TV screens dotted around showing a football match and despite the fact that it's a Wednesday night, the only clientele seems to be a few old men who were probably coming here before all London pubs got gentrified or trendified and a couple of students who aren't going to be spending the bucks no doubt needed to recoup the set up costs of this innovative pub. The draw is the “pull your own pint” concept and modern techno gimmickery for ordering non-hop related items. But not every table has a working computer screen and even fewer tables have a beer pump so unless you are at one of those, you're just in a slightly random pub. Service (which you need for anything except the beer, and even the beer at the non-pump tables) is very friendly. We don't really get to sample the food because the kitchen shuts at 9pm (this is London, people!) although, as we beg, the chef kindly cooks up a couple of bowls of pub-worthy chips at 5 mins past the hour. Probably a great venue for groups of beer-drinking boys on a big night out (if you reserve a pump table) but that's it I'm afraid. It's a shame as the idea is fun and, in the same way places such as Yo Sushi opened our eyes to new food service concepts, had the potential to to add a new string to London's drinking bow. The owners should be lauded for trying something different but sadly I don't think this particular incarnation of the techno pub, thanks largely to the location, is going to be the one which heralds the future of the British pub. See the Fulham Wine Rooms for a really slick, professional version of the self-service concept.

Oh dear, there's no jugged hare at The Jugged Hare! Apparently the little leapers are given a breathing-for-breeding space from March to July. I came here determined to eat something unusual so, eschewing my usual mantra that Offal is Awful, I dive in with some innovative-sounding black pudding croquettes. Mmm (as in Yum, not as in Hmm), crispy little pockets of spiced meaty warmth. For the main I continue my gastro mission: when someone asks me how the faggots are, I look down at my plate and realise I have polished off both before even starting on the main show, the braised rabbit leg. Must have been delicious! The dish came with a lovely mustardy, bacon, pea sauce: all very traditional but without being stodgy. My friends had a rather boring looking steak and the pollack, which they said was tasty, but I'd recommend trusting the chef enough to try something more offbeat. Sadly the star attraction on the dessert menu, the kendal mintcake chocolate mousse, is off (as have been a number of mains and most of the wine list!) so we leave it there. I thought this area would be crying out for places like this: there are enough “fancy” restaurants in the City but when you're looking for a more casual lunch the default option has been set to Corney & Barrow for years. So why is The Jugged Hare not busier? Perhaps the Martin brothers are cannibalising their own business with their nearly-next-door Chiswell Street Dining Rooms. There's a pleasant atmosphere in The Jugged Hare, if somewhat subdued, and the decor is the epitome of modern pub (although a bit predictable). It's all clean simplicity with beautiful (no doubt reclaimed) wooden floors, a few stuffed game animals on the walls, New York-style single stools at the kitchen bar, red banquette seating for groups, and waiters in tweed. At just under £30 (light starter, main, one glass of red), it's a recession friendly alternative to St John's, with less intestine on the menu.