Silverbrow on Food

Casa Brindisa

While lunch was all shades of bad, dinner at Casa Brindisa was a revelation.  The meal was organised as part of the Dine with... series that the Dos Hermanos boys have been organising.  I'm going to leave it to Simon to explain in large part about the meal and how good it was, go read his write-up and see Jon's photos.

The one thing I'd add to Simon's write-up is that being the only non-pork-eater I had a bit of a different experience to everyone else.  Or at least, I had different dishes.  One was seabass in a paprika sauce, that was very good.  But the truly exceptional dish was a fried egg, some grilled asparagus, three slices of hard, manchego like cheese, and drizzled with truffle oil.

I know the last ingredient is sine qua non of verboten ingredients for us gastrosexuals, but this was a worthy addition to an extraordinary dish.  I'm disappointed to say that I felt compelled to offer it up to others on the table to try as it was so good.  I was even more disappointed at just how much they enjoyed it.

Google Maps

Casa Brindisa, 7-9 Exhibition Road, London, SW7 2HQ, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7590 0008

What others think

AA Gill, The Sunday Times - None of it was terribly expensive, but then it’s not very nice. But that’s not what’s wrong with it. Tapas is meant to be bar food...
Londonist - It's not novel food but everything was delicious and well cooked and no one batted an eyelid when we ordered tap water to keep costs down.

Why open kitchens in crap restaurants are a terrible idea

I had lunch at Cantina Vinopolis today and I saw:

1. a cook rubbing a nasty looking zit
2. another cook drop a piece of fish on the floor, wash it and then cook it
3. several cooks 'surreptiously' stuffing their faces with food that was lying around

I know that all of these and far worse go on in normal kitchens - #3 hardly being the crime of the century.  But the whole point of an open kitchen is that the chefs are on show to add some theatre.  What I saw today is not the kind of theatre most sane diners want to see.

To add to the agony I was enduring, the food was appalling.  My tortelloni were thick, leathery, dry dumplings, in a vomit-hued 'tomato-pesto' sauce (I was reminded of my stag night and my attempts at re-floweing a bush following a very good dinner of penne arrabiata).  Pesto, is pesto is pesto.  It hasn't got tomatoes in it.  Also, a note to the kitchen: balsamic reductions were 'out' before they ever came 'in'.

Normally, I end my posts about restaurants with contact details and a little summary of what others have written.  In my role as a public service blogger, I'll spare you.

Is pleasure possible without passion?

A warning before you start, this post is a bit rambling, but it's something I've been thinking about and I decided the best way to get it right was to get it written.  It's not perfect but I'm getting there.  Then again, I might be about to disappear up my own fundament.

I've just finished reading Simon Majumdar's Eat My Globe. It's clear he is a man with a passion about food.  I wasn't oblivious to his love of food - I've been reading the blog since the start and emailing and IM'ing him for some time - but in the book it becomes clear just how much he reveres great food and how good food comes together in a great meal.

That passion makes him a pleasure to read.  He reminds me of Nigel Slater and Kevin McCloud.  It is their respective passions for food and design that make them a delight to read and watch.

Passion is contagious, which is lucky as it's one of the key ingredients to producing the best food, the other is generosity.  I genuinely believe that without both of those one's treatment of food is never going to be anything more than mediocre. 

To be clear, I am not talking about quality of food as deigned by Michelin or A N Other ranking system.  I'm talking about good food as defined by the quality of ingredients, the taste and most importantly, the result of the love of preparation and the joy of consuming what is on the plate.  Nor am I talking about innovative food.  Innovation does not necessarily equate to passion.  I don't buy into the hoary old argument that innovative food is good food.  I appreciate there is a necessity to innovate, to push the boundaries of what we know as gastronomy, otherwise how do we learn to enjoy new things.  Some people do this very badly, probably more so than those that do it very well.

A perfect example of it all coming together was a recent meal at Locanda Locatelli.  I chose it for my wife's first Mother's Day since our daughter was born.  From experience I knew it would be sufficiently relaxed to not mind an eleven month old eating there - not true of all Michelin 1* restaurants in London - and that the food would be excellent and not pandering to the Mother's Day hordes.  I've never been disappointed by a meal there and I wasn't this time. 

I know that LocLoc is not the culinary apotheosis of London restaurants, but it is a great place to have a meal: the food is always excellent and the service is relaxed.  And that clearly comes from a passion at the top.

Throughout the course of our meal, Giorgio Locatelli was in and out of the kitchen, checking up on the restaurant and showing off his recently trimmed haircut.  When he first saw my daughter he smiled at her and she smiled back.

When she virtually finished off an entire plate of their specially prepared pasta (tomato sauce, no salt) he cooed at her and said he'd bring some ice-cream.  True to his word, ten minutes later he carries to the table a plate with three lozenges of sorbet: apple, raspberry and mandarin.  He talks her through them explaining the importance of eating them in the right order.  She sits there in wide-eyed amazement, seemingly listening to every word.  He then stands over her, with a look of consternation on his face as she tastes the apple.  She loves them all.  He relaxes and coos some more.  Mummy, Daddy, baby and chef are all happy.

Of itself this may seem like a minor incident.  But in the two hours we were there, this was the only dish that Giorgio brought out of the kitchen, let alone served.  His eagle like surveillance of the dining room indicated an obsession with making sure things are running well.  But the sheer pleasure he took from someone enjoying his very good food was palpable.  Even more so when that someone has never eaten anything like that before and therefore it is a defining element in the progression of her taste-buds.

The more food I experience (whether produce or in a restaurant), the more I believe that passion is a requirement and it is obvious when it is heartfelt.  The result, for the diner is always good.  It is the same with design, an area I'm becoming more intrigued with.  It seems that truly great design is the result of someone's passion.  It's the inverse of GIGO, it's PIPO, passion in, passion out.

In these straightened times we shouldn't be retrenching to an austere attitude to pleasure or passion.  I firmly believe both are imperative to happiness - and let's not be afraid to be happy. 

So whilst we might not be able to be as generous as we would otherwise like, can it be so wrong to be passionate?

Reubens

I had a good meal at Reubens with Chris of Cheese & Biscuits and Jon at Round Britain with a Paunch.  In fact it was surprisingly good.  I feared a re-run of the last time I encouraged someone for a salt-beef feast and it turned out more than a little wrong.

As I said in the comments, I'm not sure about his last sentence, but otherwise Chris' write-up is spot on.  Next time though, I will remember to ask them to keep that barding on the beef.  And I hope they have some tongue available.  Salt beef, good.  Tongue, better.

Particular mention should be made of the well flavoured lockshen pudding and the surprisingly flaky apple strudel.  Both rather took me by surprise. I should 'fess up to the fact that I only ordered them as an oh-so-ironic practical joke demonstrating just how awful kosher desserts can be.  That taught me.

Google Maps

Reubens, 79 Baker Street, London, W1U 6RG, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7486 0035

What others think

Michael Winner, The Sunday Times - I expected nothing. I received some of the tastiest, best food I’ve ever eaten.
Save the Deli - The chicken soup is so yellow and schmaltzy, you could be eating butter.

Sushi Cafe Maco

I'm regularly asked which is my favourite restaurant, and the inevitable follow-up, do I know of any secret places - off the beaten path, a hidden gem. 

I wish I did, but two dynamics mean that hidden gems are unlikely to stay hidden for long.  First, this blogging malarkey means that a hidden gem soon becomes a queing-round-the-corner restaurant viz Tayyabs.  Second, as I've said before, in this economic environment we need to ensure that the places we love stay in business, which means spending money there, which means we should really beat the drum.  So, in order to continue to eat in this gem, it's time to tell the world and pray that as the hoards descend, it stays a gem, if not a hidden one, and they always have a table for you viz Tayyabs again.

North London suffers from a dearth of excellent restaurants and so the gems - hidden or otherwise - are few and far between.  There are lots of rather good bistros, including some very good sushi places like Sushi Say, but we seem to lack some of the dining highlights that those in the West of this city seem to enjoy.  I'm thinking of places like Tsunami in Clapham and Chez Bruce in Wandsworth.

And so onto Sushi Cafe Maco.  It is on the site of another Japanese restaurant Matsu. Silverbrowess and I always enjoyed it, because the sushi was okay for a local and it was dead quiet so we got a table whenever we rocked up.

However that lack of business foretold the future and the owners sold out to Macoto and Nemi Yoshida.  Who they you ask?  Or at least I did, and it turns out that Maco was formerly one of the sushi chefs at Atari-Ya's Temple Fortune branch.  This got me very excited because Atari-Ya is a small chain of sushi-bars and Japanese grocery stores that consistently has excellent fish.

And so it seems does Cafe Maco so I can sum up this review very quickly: the fish is stunning, meltingly, meatily stunning.  Furthermore, so is the rice.  In the UK, we too rarely remember the importance of great rice in great sushi.  They don't at Cafe Maco.  It is so beautifully cooked I took great pleasure in eating the gently vinegared carb by itself - having already revelled in salmon of such glistening fatty goodness, that I was immediately transported back to Sushi Yasuda and Kuruma Zushi.

So it went on: otoro that could have been steak; roasted black cod and cucumber inside out roll that was a roiling hit of umami in one mouthful; a salad of crispy salmon skin with cress, radish and ponzu sauce that was crispy, sweet, sharp and deeply satisfying.

All of it was a masterpiece and a revelation.  Seriously, seriously good stuff. 

There were a couple of duff notes, at the beginning and end of the meal.  the amuse of marinated salmon was fine - a bit meh - and in no way indicative of what was to come.  The green tea ice-cream was actively nasty, way too bitter and crunchy with ice crystals.  As Silverbrowess said: "I don't think I've ever not eaten ice-cream served to me."  She didn't get further than the first mouthful.  Although the daifuku served with it was pretty moreish.

We didn't eat any of the hot dishes so I can't attest to the kitchen's prowess there.  I did overhear the table next to us have some sort of argument with the waitress over their chicken teriyaki, but further than that I've no idea what the complaint was.

Frankly, whatever it was the sushi is excellent, truly excellent.  Yes, I have only been once and it could be luck.  But the obvious quality of the fish and the rice, indicates it is much more than luck.

So I'm not going to hold back and keep this gem hidden.  Rush there and hand over your hard earned cash.  As an incentive to do so there is a 10% discount until the end of March, bringing our bill for a stomach stretching six dishes to just under £30.

Google Maps

Sushi Cafe Maco, 50 Topsfield Parade, Crouch End, London, N8 8PT UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 8340 7773 (assuming it's the same as Matsu's, I do need to check this)

What others think

As far as I can tell, no-one has written about it.

Princi

My thoughts on Princi are fairly straightforward.  I love it.

I love the beautiful food - whether it's the basically wicked cannoncini or fagottino alle mele, the stunning pan campagna baked in the on-site wood fired oven, or the pasta and salads I regularly buy for lunch at such reasonable prices.

I love the fact it looks so beautiful - smooth stone, airy space and running water.

I love the slightly grumpy but very glamorous staff, all of whom seem to be Italian.

I love the fact it is so Soho.  Only round the corner from Camisa, one of London's best Italian delis. 

It is open from breakfast through to late in the evening and frankly it's never the wrong time of day for a cannoncini.

It is an uncomplicated place that works very well.  I'm not saying it's the best Italian food in London, you wouldn't expect it to be at £6 for a container of cheesy-tomatoey, beautiful gnocchi, but it is damn good.  and that bread is some of the best I've had in London.  And in case I hadn't mentioned them before their pastries, especially the cannoncini are exceptionally good.  It is everything that is good about Italian food.  It is also no surprise that good-food-mass-appeal guru Alan Yau is one of the owners.

I hope Yau's involvement signals that Princi will be rolled out.  It's the kind of concept he's famed for doing very well.

If you're in any way unclear where I stand on Princi, please leave a comment below.

Google Maps
Google Earth (download)

Princi, 135 Wardour Street, London, W1F 0UT, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7478 8888

What others think

World Food Guide - Princi is going to be a fantastic place to hang out with friends - it’s hip but not snobbish, and most importantly, it’s affordable and the food is excellent.

Time Out - ...while extensive use of soothing limestone makes the hard surfaces of the modernist interior cosy, the expanse of glass cabinets displaying good things to eat – cakes, pizza, salads, hot meals – makes it irresistible.

New head chef at The Dorchester's Grill?

If my commenter 'anomm' knows what he's talking about - and I have a very strong hunch he does - then it seems that Aiden Byrne is being replaced at The Dorchester's Grill with fellow Liverpudlian, Brian Hughson.

Until recently Hughson was head chef at Rhodes W1. I haven't eaten there yet, but the reviews are positive.

I'd never heard of Hughson until 'anomm' named him. Here is quite an interesting double profile of both Byrne and Hughson and here's a video interview with Hughson and Rhodes when they won their first Michelin star earlier this year. It's a shame that Rhodes waffles on so much.

If those positive reviews are down to his cooking it seems possible that The Grill is yet again going to outshine the rest of the hotel's restaurants, which is no bad thing.