Silverbrow on Food

The Wolseley *****

I'm not sure if it's just me, or my family, but birthday's invariably mean food.  As far back as I can remember my abiding memory of birthday parties, apart from going home presents, was what food was served.  Ben & James' where there were forbidden pork sausages, Sanj's where there was a food fight with the ice cream cake or mine where I never seemed to get any birthday cake (not that I'm bitter). 

This birthday was no different.  What with Wednesday night at Locanda Locatelli, an ice cream machine, a Weber Smokey Mountain and then Sunday breakfast at The Wolseley I was well looked after.  I love The Wolseley, I totally buy into the whole mittel-European schtick of the place, I think the concept of being able to eat what you want when you want it, combined with top-notch cooking, works fantastically.  It is no doubt helped by the beautiful room with sweeping arched ceilings and long, low hanging chandeliers.  The blacks and golds that dominate give the room an unmistakable 1920s feeling.

It is no surprise that it's not that easy to get a table, however walk in off the street and you may well hit pay-dirt with the 30% of tables they hold back from reservations.  Yes, the place is teeming with American tourists, even post 7/7, but there are also real Londoners there.  Quite often there are people sitting happily by themselves, both men and women, sipping at a coffee, nibbling on a cake, as well as larger tables of diners tucking into course after course of irresistible food.  Anywhere that makes me feel so totally at home and comfortable, whether I'm after a lazy breakfast or trying to schmooze a prospective client, has got to be good.

Particularly noteworthy are those things that should be noteworthy for somewhere modeled on an Austrian cake shop.  Their pickled cucumber salad is fantastically vinegary with a strong smack of salt - just like Grandma used to make.  I have it on authority that the chopped liver and chicken soup are equally good.  Don't get me wrong this is not the shtetl for the masses, the kedgeree is what it's supposed to be, an unctuous gooey mass of curried rice, hunks of smoked mackerel and a runny poached egg.

Smoked fish and poached eggs are a classic combo that I felt compelled to recreate at breakfast on Sunday.  The kippers were delicious, the smoke not overpowering the fish but giving it a real salty hit.  The two pats of mustard butter atop the kippers gave it that extra bite.

I don't want to be known as a pig but I was finding it tough to ignore the beautiful array of croissants, pain au chocolat, brioche etc.  I decided that as it was still my birthday (give or take four days) I would indulge and so ordered a croissant.  For some reason it seemed quite cold - a victim of their arctic floor level air-con rather than refrigeration.  However, with its buttery flakes drifting towards my mouth, the temperature of the thing was soon forgotten.  Don't forego the excellent (homemade?) jams.  The marmalade was particularly good.  Silverbrowess honourably shared the croissant with me in addition to perfectly cooked scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.  The brioche they were nestling was not too cloyingingly sweet and was as light as feather.  Again, another hit.

If I could make any criticisms they were that a) a glass of tapwater we ordered stunk of old rag, I imagine it had just been wiped down with one and b) in their extensive selection of pastries there was no sign of a pain au raisin or similar.  Neither of these is drastic but I urge them to sort out the latter at the earliest opportunity.

For some reason breakfast is rarely the cheapest meal of the day and this was no exception with each of our dishes coming in at the £12 mark, plus a few quid here or there for coffees and orange juice you'll be lucky to come out with change from a £50.  However, you could quite happily sit there sipping a £1.95 espresso and no-one would bat an eyelid.

The Wolseley, 160 Piccadilly, London, W1J 9EB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7499 6996
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What others think
The Observer - Immense skill and professionalism
New York Times - Old world elegance
GQ - Old world glamour and top nosh

Locanda Locatelli*****

Getting older makes me reflect on what's important to me.  It was therefore fantastic timing that just as I was concluding that food was (barring my family and friends) the be-all-and-end-all, Silverbrowess told me she'd succeeded in finding the Holy Grail of London restaurants - a table at a reasonable time for Locanda Locatelli.

As my other posts betray, I love Italian food and I particularly love Giorgio Locatelli's cooking.  I was therefore ecstatic to hear we'd got a table at his eponymous restaurant Locanda Locatelli.  His particular mark is that he cooks the best ingredients in relatively straightforward ways.  He might put a twist on an Italian dish, or play with an Escoffieresque combination of flavours, but always the outcome is the same - delicious with a real depth of flavour that looks beautiful and is highly memorable.

I have a sneaking suspicion Giorgio wasn't in the restaurant when we went last Wednesday, usually he pops out to wander round the tables but there was no site of him.  However, this was not a case of whilst the cats away.  His brigade has clearly taken on a lot from him and turned out food that is just as exquisite as when he is there. 

Our table was at the far end of the room to the bar, with one of us sitting on the banquette, the other facing them (and the wall).  Cleverly, enormous fish-eye mirrors mean that the wall-facer is not totally cut-off from the restaurant and you get a fair idea of what's going on behind you.  It also afforded me a good vantage point to check that Silverbrowess had kept her word and hadn't ordered me a birthday cake.  Had she of done, I'd have done a runner.  The tables aren't particularly close but they were close enough to afford me a constant whiff of the aftershave of the gentleman sitting next to me.  Silverbrowess was convinced that his table of two women and two men were out on dates, I'm not so sure, but this one guy's aftershave was so strong and naff smelling, it reminded me of school changing rooms and too much Lynx deodorant.  Not the fault of the restaurant what aftershave its punters choose to wear but maybe it should be.  Maybe they should ban crap aftershave in the same way they ban smoking.

I've seen quite a few comments about the service at LL.  It's very polite, unbelievably informative but it tends to be slow.  I think this is largely because only one or two of the waiters take orders for the entire restaurant and so at peak times, such as 8pm on a Wednesday night, they're run off their feet.  Luckily, the drinks and homemade bread, courtesy of Dan Lepard helped to keep us amused.  A quick bready aside - it is truly fantastic here and made even better by a deliciously nutty / fruity olive oil.  An example of the knowledgeable staff was when we asked the waiter where the olive oil was from.  He suddenly became very misty eyed as he reeled off directions (literally) to a little farm in Sicily.  Clearly he could have been talking bollocks and we'd have been none the wiser.  Somehow though, I think he really did know the road off which the olive grove was located.

It was tough choosing what to eat, especially as they had one of my favourites burrata, which is a form of particularly milky mozzarella that tastes like heaven and originates from a small area in Puglia.  It comes in a ball the size of two fists and when you cut through the outer skin, milky, cheesy creamy goodness oozes out.  LL serve it with a salad of tomatoes and it is outstanding - I had it last year when we went for my birthday (there's a theme you see).  Anyway, I decided I really should try something new so went for potato gnocchi with mushrooms and black (summer) truffles.  The dish was delicious although the truffles weren't quite as truffly as I'd hoped.  I know that black truffles are not as pungent as their whiter cousins, but still I'd hoped for a bit more depth of flavour.  Having said that, the gnocchi were unbelievably light and fluffy and the overall dish worked well - light and subtle.  Silverbrowess' smoked mozzarella on a tomato and rocket salad was equally fantastic.  The cheese smoked perfectly - enhancing the flavours rather than tasting like a lump of coal.  The tomatoes had obviously been shipped in from Italy as it's impossible to get tomatoes of that size tasting that good in the UK.  Not great for food miles, but fantastic for the taste buds.

For main course I had envisaged that the herb crust on my mackerel would have a bit more crunch to it than it did.  That's not to say it didn't taste great, it just wasn't quite what I'd been expecting.  Nonetheless, the two fillets sitting on top of a slightly sweet/sour caponata were large and perfectly cooked.  When paired up with the roast potatoes and zucchini that we ordered as sides, it was fit for a king, or at least a birthday boy.  Silverbrowess opted for a pasta that more or less was a puttanesca, except it was a puttanesca at LL which meant the tomatoes were delicious, the capers enormous and anchovies plump and tasty, with their saltiness enhancing their flavour rather than overpowering it.

We were both far too full for dessert and so opted for coffees and teas and the complementary (is anything ever complementary?) petites fours.  Silverbrowess was convinced there were fewer petites fours than there had been previously, I wasn't so sure, but then again I was finding it difficult to focus on anything much as I needed to figure out how I'd walk again given I was so sated.  My haziness wasn't helped by the delicious half bottle of Barolo Paesi Tuoi - half bottle because I was drinking alone and didn't want to be (too) greedy.  Another quick aside, this time on wine.  I know that I know nothing about wine but I do like it.  However, I suffer from that well noted fear of wine lists and sommeliers.  I'm gradually getting to know more and was confident I'd like the heavy Barolo but was petrified when I tasted it that it was corked and I wouldn't know.  It initially tasted slightly acidic which I hadn't expected and was about to say something to the sommelier and expose my ignorance to the world. However, I decided I'd wait and let it air for a bit and then try again - when I did, it was beautiful, like drinking a full bodied merlot.  The hint of vinegar had disappeared.

This is a truly amazing restaurant that I believe delivers good value.  Now obviously being my birthday I wasn't paying but I have a sneaking suspicion that our food (two courses each) plus a few bottles of water and the wine came in at the £100 mark.   For what we ate, for the service (excluding the earlier ordering hiccup) and everything else I think it's pretty reasonable.

Locanda Locatelli, 8 Seymour Street, London, W1H 7JZ, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7935 9088
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What others think
The Observer - Locatelli's name and food has a massive reputation
The Guardian - Locatelli is a great chef...top-dog cooking
The Economist - Swoon-worthy

Keep on cooking

I had a few people over for a barbecue last weekend.  Obviously it was another good excuse to make my sausages.  However, my guests seemed a bit bowled over by my homemade sausages and have been raving about them since.  Being the humble sort, I avert my eyes from their wonderous gaze, tap the ground with my toe and mumble something about how easy it is and it's really not a big issue.  It goes without saying that I'm loving the loving.

Anyway, what with now being able to produce sausages, bread and pickled cucumbers I'm always looking for a new way to create a mess in the kitchen.  Although I don't want to mix milk and meat, I think I might have just found my next challenge.