Silverbrow on Food

Olive Magazine & Dizengoff

A few weeks ago I was interviewed by Tony Naylor for the BBC's Olive Magazine. It was for a feature in this month's magazine about bloggers' favourite but unknown restaurants.

Mine was Dizengoff. I've never done a full on review of the restaurant, which is a bit remiss because it's the restaurant I visit most frequently. I'll let the Olive article be a proxy for my review, as I really don't have time to write one now. Suffice to say though that for simple grilled meat, with fresh salads, I love Dizengoff. Given the tone of the article, I thought the photo accompanying the article (a dessert) was a bit of a non-sequituir. I've never eaten a dessert there, so am not in a position to express a view one way or the other.

You can download a pdf of the article here.

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Dizengoff, 118 Golders Green Road, London, NW11 8HB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 8458 7003

What others think

Time Out - Dizengoff's is (sic) producing some great meals

Silverbrowlette

At 2.07pm today, our baby daughter was born. She's beautiful and has already brought us immense joy. Days simply can't get any better than today.

But - and here's the rub - her arrival means posting here is going to be very light for the foreseeable future. I'm sure you'll understand.

I'm not going to get the chance to explain why I regard much of Jay Rayner's latest book, The Man Who Ate the World, as a manifesto for eating. In many ways it's the food book I'd love to have written. It's erudite, funny and most of all it's about his sheer unadulterated love affair with good food.

There were some points I'd like to explore further, but I won't have the chance. If you feel so inclined though, maybe you could address why he doesn't eat anywhere in Spain and San Sebastian in particular. I know there are many great restaurant cities, but given the book's title and the global influence of El Bulli, it seems a bit remiss. I was surprised by the frequent references to his Ashkenazic roots - more an observation than a question. And finally, a second observation, I was most disappointed by the London chapter. I was hoping for a bit more insight on dining in the capital - although maybe that was the point of his dinner with his parents at Rules. For him, that's how it started - with the family - and despite all those Ashkenazi references, his palate lies with excellent, reliable, grounded restaurants.

I'm not going to be able to note how useful The Opinionated About Fine Dining Survey 2008 would have been to Jay on his travels. Nor can I riff about how fitting it is that both Jay's book and the OA book came out in the same month, given that Jay is a regular contributor to the OA forums amongst others. If you're the type of person who either travels in order to eat, or checks out the decent restaurants before deciding where to stay, the OA guide is for you. Ignore the others like Michelin, Zagat and Hardens. If you care what people like you think about Europe and the US's best restaurants, get your mitts on this.

I'm also going to be unable to write-up my meals at The Grill at The Dorchester or Hibiscus. Suffice to say Aiden Byrne (can't help but think of Dick) is a fantastic chef and a very nice bloke. The room at the Dorchester is hideous, but the food is generally astounding. We had a tasting menu, chosen by the chef, with wine pairings courtesy of the sommelier. It was a treat. One word of caution though, steer clear of any dessert with mushrooms in the chocolate sauce.

Similarly, I loved Hibiscus. They were accommodating, I found the much maligned room quite cosy and the food is astounding. Claude Bosi might not be comfortable working the dining room at the end of service, but he knows his way around the stove and I look forward to many return visits.

The Grill at The Dorchester, The Dorchester, Park Lane, London, W1K 1QA, UK
Tel: +44 20 7629 8888

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Hibiscus, 29 Maddox Street, London, W1S 2PA, UK

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Gordon to “rectify” Pétrus

I'd heard the rumours that all was not well between Gordon Ramsay and his protege and head-chef of Pétrus, Marcus Wareing, but I was surprised at how public Ramsay has gone.

In a full-page article in the Business section of today's Sunday Times he mentions that one of the things that made 2007 his annus horibilus were the “inconsistencies” at Pétrus. But don't worry, he's planning to “recitfy” them.

Oh right, those inconsistencies must include winning a second Michelin star.

Wareing's contract is up with Gordon Ramsay Holdings sometime later this year and from what I've heard Wareing is gagging to leave. Not bloody surprising. In my experience, he is a fantastic chef, with a proven track record. He doesn't need to put up with crap like this. I'd love to know a bit more about what actually caused the bad blood. Can it simply be Ramsay's concern at being overshadowed? Or is filthy lucre involved?

What with Bjorn van der Horst, former head chef of La Noisette leaving the GRH fold last week, it seems that Ramsay is shedding good chefs as quickly as he's acquiring gastropubs.

Empire building - 21st century stylee

There are more Starbucks in London than in New York. Who knew?

Rossopomodoro to hit Covent Garden, Gili Gulu gone

I was delighted a couple of weeks ago to see builders gutting Gili Gulu on Monmouth Street. I never ate there, but it purported to be a sushi kaiten restaurant. Whenever I walked past the staff were morosely smoking outside, there were no customers inside and the lonely fish looked limp, pale and deeply unappetising.

According to the stickers curerntly in the window, the space has being taken by Rossopomodoro.

I'd never heard of the place before, but a big of Googling suggests that Pizza Express on St Martin's Lane is in big trouble. Looks like decent crispy pizza is about to replace floppy flacid fish.

Market

Tonight I had what I consider to be a really bad experience at Market, a newish restaurant in Camden Town. But, I have an inkling I might be being unreasonable and I'm interested in your views.

I left a message on their answerphone early this morning booking a table for tonight. Following the great review from Giles Coren last week, I half expected them to call back and say they had no space. They didn't and I got my table for the time I wanted it.

When I arrived, my father was already there, standing at the bar in discussion with one of the waitresses. It turns out the table they gave us was right by the door and was blooming cold as a result, not just cool, but full on brass monkeys cold.

There were several other tables for two that were empty but the waitress said she couldn't give them to us. It wasn't because those people were due any minute, it was for the far odder reason that they had reserved earlier than us. It seems that the earlier you book, the better the table you get. I know its normal and prudent practice for regulars to get better tables, but I hadn't appreciated the same was true for early-bookers. I suppose there is some sense to it from the restaurant's point of view, they firm up their bookings earlier. But if this is a policy, shouldn't they say so?

When they called to confirm my table, shouldn't they have said "Yes that's fine, table for 2 at 7:30 and because you booked today, you'll be on the shit table by the door"? I think they should. Or at least they should have said "Yes that's fine, table for 2 at 7:30 and just so you know for next time, if you book a month in advance you won't be sitting in Siberia." I wonder whether those early bookers got a verbal pat on the back when they booked.

The menu looked really good, so my father and I returned to the table just to check that it was as cold as we thought and decide whether we could brave it out. We couldn't, so we reluctantly decided to leave.

Before we did though, my father offered to pay for the bottle of sparkling mineral water he'd already started. They promptly brought over a bill for just under £3. I was stunned. I know that by all rights he owed them for it, but come on, we were clearly put out, comping us some water would not have been the end of the world and might have engendered a little bit of good will.

At the moment I'm firmly in the cutting off noses to spite the face camp, and don't want to darken their doorstep. I understand that not every table is great, but then to go and take £3 for a bottle of water seems petty. I think their arrogance and poor service is inexcusable.

Market may be part of the trend for 'British food' that started with St John and now includes Great Queen Street and Medcalf, but that doesn't mean it needs to lose itself up its own fundament.

But am I being unreasonable? Is my judgement way-off on this? I'd be interested in your thoughts.

Before I go, I'm not the only one to have experienced dodgy service. Time Out describes service becoming 'frosty' when they criticised the food. It's a restaurant, they should get used to it.

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Market, 43 Parkway, London, NW1 7PN, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7267 9700

What others think

The Times - Market, where everything is free range and lovely jubbly.

Reuben's

Reading about the reincarnation of the 2nd Avenue Deli in New York has got me salivating after a good kosher deli. Even though I have a feeling my most recent meal at Bloom's was an abberration, I couldn't face risking it. Anyway, I was in the West End and since the not-so-sad demise of Zvika, I was left with Reuben's. I haven't been for a couple of years, but my lingering memory was of grumpy staff and a dull room.

This time the staff were a bit more welcoming but, as I twittered, that dining room is still thoroughly depressing. It reminds me of the dining room at my now departed Great Grandmother's nursing home. Not because of the age of the other diners, just because it is so sterile and institutional. There is none of the warmth one should associate with a restaurant that serves copious quantities of schmaltz.

But, that could be because the depressing room simply reflects the food. My chopped liver looked good, but was fridge cold and tasted flabby, as though it had been padded out with bread, or made with anaemic liver. My main course was a mix of tongue and salt beef. Again, the beef looked very good, but the taste was awful. Both meats were significantly over-salted suggesting someone had either forgotten to rinse the brine off the raw meat, or over salted the broth they were cooked in. They also managed to be very dry. That the slices of tongue were as thick as a doorstop. Silverbrowess' schnitzel looked like it had been cooked in a factory: the evenly golden crumb and uniform thickness were a bit spooky.

The only bit of the meal I enjoyed was a decently astringent sweet and sour cucumber. Doesn't really say much does it?

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

What others think

Time Out - Chicken soup was richly flavoured, with a good dark colour

Sake No Hana

I have yet to find a sushi restaurant in London that comes close to Yasuda or Kuruma Zushi in New York. The flavour of the fish in both places blew me away. They look different - Yasuda has an eye on contemporary design, Kuruma Zushi on traditional design - but they are unified by the quality of the fish.

I am hopeful that Sake No Hana might be the place to bring that quality to London. The game was given away by an exceptional piece of otoro. It's tender, steak-like texture and deep, savoury flavour, instantly reminded me of my blow-out meals in New York.

It is too early to say with any conviction that Sake No Hana will be so good, because the restaurant is still finding its feet and isn't yet fully open. The second floor dining room - the main restaurant - is only serving dinner and the sushi bar, on the ground floor, is not yet open.

I have had the opportunity to eat there twice now. The first time was during their friends and family week, when we were guinea pigs being tested in return for a free meal. We had a great meal with astounding service and when they found out about the blog, we got our drinks comp'd as well. The second time round I booked like an ordinary punter and am fairly certain they didn't twig re the blog.

I think there are flashes of excellence with the food. As I mentioned, the otoro was outstanding. Also very good was a dish of deep fried aubergine, sesame paste and flakes of bonito. It's an almighty hit of umami - a dish makes you instantly feel happy and cosy and coseted and just right. A tofu dish lacked any of this excitement. It was bland, slippery and tasteless. Not the best example of a staple of the Japanese diet.

On the first occasion I ate there, there was a great shabu-shabu type dish that substituted yellowtail and enoki mushrooms for the beef usually found in shabu-shabu. The fish was exceptional, its firm texture putting up well with the heat of the broth, which itself was slightly sweet, a tad sour and with deeply satisfying, reminding me a bit of the consomme I had at The Goose. Unfortunately, they'd taken it off the menu the second time I went.

At this point I must come to a rather abrupt halt. I can't really remember all that much about the food from the second meal. I don't make notes at the table and I generally have stopped taking photos of what I'm eating. I rely on memory and the kindness of the restaurant to let me take away a menu with me, as Patterson's had done the night before.

I wanted to describe the menu to you. To explain how the various courses worked, give you the names of some of the dishes to devour at any opportunity (quite a few) and those that should send you scuttling for the hills (not that many really).

Unfortunately I can't. At the end of my meal I asked for a menu but I was told it wasn't possible. They didn't have enough folded pieces of paper to hand out, but they'd email me. I'm still waiting. I know they're not a three star Michelin restaurant, but when The Fat Duck offered the same thing, it was in my inbox within 24 hours.

I'm being slightly disingenuous, I give the impression I'm surprised. I'm really not, service was not particularly attentive on the night and I didn't have much faith they'd email me.

Our waiter's insistence that we order at least one dish from each section of the menu gave the impression he was a profit-drone, rather than helping us eat a great meal. It wasn't helped when he kept pointing out some of the more expensive sakes to try, from an already expensive list. Where was the cheerful Australian sake sommelier who was there at our first meal? If it was his night off, he should have a number two.

Service generally was a bit dozy: anything sufficiently viscous was spilled at one point or another. We were only offered bottled water, when the stuff from the tap is perfectly fine. We were told it might be a problem swapping ice-cream flavours to include those in other desserts. Eventually, the kitchen bowed to our unreasonable request.

But let's be fair. The restaurant is still finding its feet. They're not yet fully open and at the time of writing, they aren't charging service either. I only found this out when I realised they'd got the bill wrong by not including the sake and there was no mention of service. According to our waiter there is no tronc. So if the waiting staff aren't being incentivised, which is what he was implying, is it any surprise they're not doing a brilliant job?

I'm tearing into a new restaurant with growing pains. I'm an asshole, what can I say? Remember though, this is not a new restaurant from some naif. This place has been opened by Alan Yau and a team with a track record at Hakkasan, Yauatcha, Busaba Eathai and Wagamama's among others. These are people who know the restaurant business. These are people who expect the best service from their staff and will be pissed off that their staff spill drinks and forget to fulfil promises.

I'm ambivalent towards the restaurant. I have eaten very well there and had fantastic service, I've had pretty mediocre food with poor service. At heart I am an optimist and I want to be able to eat as well in London, as I did in New York. Given the hope engendered by the otoro and some fried aubergine, I'll be knocking down their door when the sushi bar is eventually up and running.

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Sake No Hana, 23 St James's Street, London, SW1A 1HA, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7925 8988

What others think

Fay Maschler, Evening Standard - a sensuous, revealing experience
Jan Moir - Sake No Hana remains intriguing. It is one of those restaurants you have to study to enjoy

Patterson's

For some reason I have been finding it difficult to write-up my dinner at Patterson's and I'm not sure why.

It's not because of a conflict of interest, but I should come clean. My table was treated particularly well because I'm friendly with one of the owners. He did me a massive favour getting me a table for dinner with the boys at very short notice, a week before Christmas. We had fantastic service throughout and a fair amount of free food and drinks, in addition to what we ordered.

So back to my problems writing about this dinner. As I say, I'm not sure why I have a problem, my thoughts are pretty straightforward: this is a great restaurant that serves very good food, has attentive, but unobtrusive service and on the night we went, had a great atmosphere.

But in some respects it is a restaurant of contradictions.

Both the kitchen and front-of-house are exceptionally confident. For example, my starter of smoked poached duck egg was inspired. The lentil ragout was nice, but I sat there loving the egg. I'm still trying to figure out how they infused it with smoke. I can only assume they put raw eggs in a cold smoker (like smoked salmon, as opposed to hot smoking brisket) and then poach them. It was a fun dish that had interesting flavours but otherwise wasn't too fussy and was all the better for it. It was clear from this starter that the kitchen knew its game, innovative and with the execution to back it up.

Similarly, being a family run restaurant (dad and son in the kitchen, mum tending front of house) ensures it is a slick operation. But, despite this confidence, I couldn't help but feel that they tried a bit too hard with the food - especially the presentation. It was if the kitchen was trying to prove a point.

The Patterson family and their business partners, own one of London's leading fish suppliers, in addition to the restaurant. As such, the fish they serve and the way they cook it is excellent.

My main of sea-bass was some of the best fish I've had in London in a long-time. As was an amuse geule of haddock. Both of the fish were so good, I'd have been quite happy with them by themselves. They weren't quite in the realm of Chez Panisse's single peach but comparably, I would guess, not too far off.

Why then did they feel it necessary to embellish the plate with all those blooming swirls and frills on the plate? The sauce vierge with my sea-bass was very good and went well with the fish. But there was no need to make the plate look like Jackson Pollock was on the pass. Someone in the kitchen was letting their inner artiste get the better of themselves.

My dessert was the weakest of the three courses. Although the crème brulée - the main event - was nigh on perfect, its accompanying pain d'epice ice-cream was what Silverbrowess would describe as pishy: not one thing or the other.

These gripes are not enormous but given my personal connection I want this restaurant to be as good as it can be, and I reckon it's not far off achieving that. For some reason Patterson's is not well known, but it deserves to be. At £13 for starters, £17 for mains and £10 for dessert, at dinner, and with a very reasonable wine list, it represents some of the best value for money in London.

The ingredients are top quality, with cooking to match. I strongly suggest you try at least one fish dish while you're there. In addition, you'll be well looked after and probably have a fun time. My gripes should be read within this context. The kitchen can take a chill pill. Let your food and your cooking do the work. Sod the art lesson.

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Patterson's, 4 Mill Street, London, W1S 2AX, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7499 1308

What others think

Jay Rayner, The Observer - a damn fine place
Square Meal - ...the imaginative bold food has done all the talking
Giles Coren, The Times - good cooking...and not unreasonable prices

Ducasse is disappointing

Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester opened its doors this week and so far there has been nothing but bad, bad reviews.

On the positive side, if you're the type to ignore what you read, you'll have no problems getting a table, as it seems that everyone is cancelling at the moment, waiting to see if things improve.

Kalendar redux

I take it back, Kalendar, the Cheers of Highgate is no longer a joy to behold.

I have had growing concerns on recent visits, but tonight took the biscuit. There was a random blond hair in our olives. Three items I wanted to order weren't availalbe and this from a menu that has barely changed in the past two years - yet another gripe. The food is lazy and pretty bland. Silverbrowess' cod - who serves cod these days? - stunk of fish, never a good sign, although the chips were hand cut and well cooked. My mozzarella salad was fridge-cold, with some sad looking greens, thankfully lifted by a punchy vinaigrette. We'll overlook that it didn't really pay much homage to Italy.

This is a restaurant that reeks of complacency. There are a lot of regulars who I think are blinded slightly by nostalgia. They remember the great food and they're suckered by the nice decor and pretty location. It's a shame because Cafe Mozart, Kalendar's sister restaurant and next-door neighbour, still hits the mark as one of London's finest cafes - in the Viennese sense of the word, rather than Starbucks.

Campion on Bacchus vs Fat Duck

Drawing comparisons between Bacchus and The Fat Duck is not new. Charles Campion has written about his lunch-for-lunch comparison at the two establishments, from which he feels Bacchus compares very favourably.

I think the praise for Bacchus is well deserved and Campion's article raises some good points, even if he is wide of the mark a couple of times. His price comparison of the two is flawed. He is comparing Bacchus' 9 course tasting menu with the Fat Duck's a la carte. If he wants to do a like for like comparison, he should be using the Fat Duck's tasting menu which is £115 and he got the price of Bacchus' tasting menu wrong, it is £60 not £80 as he claims. Such a significant price difference between the two is right. They may use similar techniques but they are a long way from each other, reputationally and geographically. The other bit he got wrong was his suggestion that Bacchus is not targeted at fine dining. It clearly is, the prices, the wine lists, the interior design and the type of people eating there indicate it is. It may not be aiming for 3 Michelin stars, but nonetheless it is all about eating the best food perfectly, if uniquely, prepared, with an attention to detail on all aspects of how the front-of-house is run. This is no two-bit operation.

I am intrigued by how Bacchus is going to evolve. Blumenthal has received criticism for not changing his menu, he argues he is continually perfecting it. As a restaurant still developing and growing I don't think Bacchus can afford to rest on its laurels. I also think Nuno, chef at Bacchus has an itch to innovate. How that translates onto the plate is going to be interesting to watch.

Listen again to my interview with Phil Mossop and Nuno Mendes of Bacchus.

Scoop's Day of Chocolate (Sat, 29 Sept)

Regular readers may have noticed I quite like Scoop, this gives the game away, as does this.

I am trying to be careful what I'm eating at the moment, so I have to be just as careful that I don't walk down Shorts Gardens and thus I can avoid the siren call of a couple of scoops of Amarena (sour cherry) or creamy cornetti.

I was slightly concerned Matteo, gelato king and owner of Scoop, might be upset by my abstinence because earlier in the summer I was such a frequent visitor, I must have been underwriting his profits.  My concerns dissipated when I received a phone call from him telling me of their day of chocolate.

Rather cunningly, Matteo has figured out that it is hard to go wrong when you combine chocolate with ice-cream or pastries.  So, if you like your chocolate I would recommend a trip to Covent Garden on Saturday 29 September, with festivities starting at 2pm and going on until early evening.  I understand from Matteo that they will be showcasing a whole host of different types of chocolate gelato, using various types of chocolate and numerous flavours.  Expect to indulge in Gianduia del Piemonte, Cioccolato Puro, Cioccolato al Latte and Riso Cioccolato among other gelato flavours, plus a whole host of sticky pastries.  I also understand that they'll be selling Amadei's hot-chocolate.  I've never tried it myself, but it's reputation precedes it and I fear it is yet another reason to visit the shop and sod the diet.

By the way, if you are concerned that I have given in to PR fluff, think again.  I never promote anyone or anything on this site solely because they have asked me to or offered me inducements.  I only write about products, people and topics that interest me - for better or worse.  Scoop deserves all the praise it can get (except for the coffee, but let's move on) because it is a food producer obsessed with using the best ingredients and the best people to ensure a fantastic product.   I find it quite disheartening that there are so few producers and shops that get me as excited as an ice-cream shop on a Covent Garden side street.

Ristorante Semplice

If I am ever asked which is my favourite restaurant I invariably answer Locanda Locatelli, the food is great, the service excellent, there's an interesting wine list and there's a touch of glam thrown in for good measure. I also, perversely, quite like the fact that it is situated in a rather naff hotel.

I thought that with the chef and maitre d' coming from Locanda Locatelli, Ristorante Semplice could not fail to please. Especially if the name was a further give-away to its intentions. But Semplice is a warning that we should never forget that hoary cliche: simple is as simple does.

It is with a heavy heart that I report that this place does not do simple and does not do justice to Sr Locatelli. Most of all it does not do seasoning. Pretty much everything I tasted could have done with a more assurred and generous hand in the kitchen.

I started with a ravioli stuffed with aubergine, tomatoes and mozzarella. With a name like Semplice I assumed they would keep things simple and use the best ingredients. Fay Maschler makes much of the imported mozzarella. This dish was not the best Italy has to offer. It was pretty bland. The same was true, in my opinion of Silverbrowess' salad of artichoke, rocket and parmesan. For some bizarre reason the kitchen had cut off the stalks of the rocket and therefore removed the source of flavour. Thankfully not all the starters were quite so bland. The pesto filled gnocchi with beans and pine kernels was delicious. It was a bit more spongy than most gnocchi and looked closer to ravioli than gnocchi. But the flavour was good, subtle yes, but good nonetheless.

My main of cod filet (shh don't tell anyone), beetroot sauce, baby spinach salad with hazelnuts was dull in the extreme. The fish was horribly overcooked and lacked any flavour, making my guilt that I was eating this verboten fish all the worse. Then again, the chef was the one who should have felt guilty, he put it on the menu and he knackered it in the frying pan. As a composite, the dish had virtually no flavour, what there was came from the toasted hazelnuts. Silverbrowess had john dory with artichokes, new potatoes and plum tomatoes. The fish itself tasted pretty good, but the sauce was no better than you would get at any number of non-descript restaurants on the Med. A particular low point for me was the ice-cream at dessert. When I asked the waiter, who sounded Italian, whether it was ice-cream or gelato he looked at me blankly and told me it was ice-cream. Questions don't come much simpler and for an Italian restaurant claiming to do the simple things, I would have thought there was only one answer. Not no answer.

None of this was simple food, fantastic ingredients, cooked brilliantly. Or at least that was my opinion. For fairness' sake I do have to 'fess up that the other three around the table really enjoyed their meals and thought it was a perfectly good meal. That in itself is pretty damning praise given the provenance of both the front of house and kitchen staff.

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Ristorante Semplice, 10 Blenheim Street, London, W1S 1LJ, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7495 1509

What others think

Squaremeal - Dishes, meanwhile, may be simple in presentation but are based on exemplary produce, carefully handled to extract maximum flavour.
Metro - My chestnut pannacotta is actively duff: heavy, granular, bland, like eating porridge in aspic.
The Guardian - All three starters were sparkling...The main courses, however, were unimpeachably mediocre.

Scoop, again

I've posted about Scoop previously and I am going to do so again because of my ongoing love affair with the place.

Their ice-creams are astounding so I am stoically working my way through the flavours. But, when you're there, don't forget about the pasticceri as well. Matteo, the owner, very kindly foisted upon me what I thought was a profiterole but was in fact a pastry of such sublime chocolatey-choux pastry deliciousness, that lumping it together with the depth charges one normally associates with profiteroles is a sin.

Go now and eat ice cream and pastries and remind yourself of the joy of simple food made fantastically well.

Wild Honey

I had lunch today at Anthony Arbutus Demetre's new place, Wild Honey. It's on the site of a former Mayfair members club and gents barber (not at the same time) and looks like it: a long wood pannelled dining room with sweeping ceilings. The room is beautiful, much less austere than its Soho sister operation. They're still in their first week of operation, their soft opening, so all food was 50% off - which is nice. Despite it being a low-key week for them, they were virtually full at lunch today, the dining room having a nice hum. There is also a bar where you can eat. The sole diner today, was, as far as I could tell, the restaurant's PR woman, who I'm pretty sure had no idea who I was.

The food was very good although not vastly different in composition or quality from Arbutus. In itself that is no bad thing. On the occasions I have been, I've had very good meals at Arbutus, although I have recently read (registration req'd) things have got a bit sloppy, especially service. But my experiences have only been positive so if they can replicate Arbutus then that's great. But then again why bother? And why open somewhere so close to Arbutus? I think the owners reckon there won't be much cannibalisation between the two. The media types will stick to Soho, whilst the private equity partners will not need to venture out of Mayfair. They're probably right. But, if this is the case I find it a bit of a shame, it would be nice to see something slightly different, maybe a bit of progression in the kitchen. Given the similarities of the menu, I ended up feeling that it was one kitchen for both restaurants.

My food today was very good. My mackerel tartare to start was spot on, with beautiful, oily fish, cut by the sweet baby beetroot and a horseradish cream. There was some pointless greenery on the plate as well, an affliction I now remember from Arbutus, but overall a lovely dish. For main I opted for baked haddock, which was a great hunk of fish. I think it was a tad undercooked, but nonetheless it was a beautiful fish, belying the excellent provenance of their food. Dessert - well it was 50% off - was the eponymous ice-cream with honeycomb shavings. I preferred the honeycomb to the ice-cream which although had a beautiful consistency, didn't have much of a punch when it came to taste. Unlike my cioccolato from Scoop yesterday.

So the food was generally very good with beautifully sourced produce and I'm sure I'll be back, but I'm finding it hard to get too overexcited by the restaurant. In part it is because of similarities with Arbutus, it is also because I'm getting a bit jaded by this school of very good simple cooking. Whoah there a minute, what was that? Jaded by good food. Well sort of, yes. But, I have to caveat that by saying I'm jaded in a wholly good way. There are now lots of restaurants in London that serve very very good food, at reasonable prices. So when yet another good restaurant opens up I don't feel the need to jump up and down in ecstasy.

I think that at long last, we're getting the food we deserve both in restaurants and if we want it, at home as well. For example, I was particularly impressed to get a text from a close friend today to hear that her eldest child, all of 2 and a bit, had her first taste of sushi today. I was twenty when I had mine. I should add, this child is clearly wise beyond her years, she refers to me as "The Giant" both behind my back and to my face.

Finally, can someone tell me what wild honey actually is, how it differs from normal honey? Is it simply made by a hive of livid bees?

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Wild Honey, 12 St George Street, London, W1S 2FB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7758 9160

What others think

As far as I can tell, it's too early days for much coverage. I'll update here if that changes.

Blooms again, but never again

I have had bad meals in the past, we all have. However, a recent dinner at Blooms was the first time I have had a truly awful meal whilst accompanied by a restaurant critic from a national newspaper.

What made this particular meal worse - and genuinely it was so awful it is hard to believe anything could have been worse than what we ate - was that I had cheerily invited Jay Rayner, the Observer's food critic, citing my two previously good experiences. In my invitation I did mention a third, more recent meal, when my grilled liver resembled a particularly tasteless, tough piece of shoe leather, but I dismissed that as an aberration. I was wrong. It seems to be the norm.

You might argue, "you had two good meals, now you have had two bad meals, maybe they're just inconsistent." They are certainly that. But any restaurant that dares serve the quality of food we ate and has the chutzpah to charge people for it, is a truly awful establishment.

Read Jay's eloquent review for an insight into what we had to put up with. It was a trip down memory lane we would both rather forget.

Before I go, I have to praise Jay and his kind. I thought being a restaurant critic was all about eating at the world's greatest restaurants, or gorging yourself in a dining marathon. I now know that it is much harder than that. Especially when you have to order ersatz custard, made from heaven knows what, but almost certainly not egg and definitely not milk, all in the name of journalistic thoroughness. I pleaded, begging him, feeling like Zammo, to just say no to the waitress offering him this curdled mess atop the apple pie. In spite of my wailing, he perservered. Mr Rayner you're a mensch and a martyr to your profession, I salute you. I also profoundly and grovellingly apologise for dragging you along to Blooms.

Scoop

Serendipity is a wonderful thing. Had I not had heavy boots today I would not have decided that comfort food was necessary for lunch, which meant I would not have walked down a street I rarely walk down, which would have meant I would not have found Scoop. But I did and my heavy boots became light flip flops as I realised I that the best ice-cream in the UK is nestling in a side-street in Covent Garden, not a stones throw from the front door of my office.

And yes, what Scoop serves is gelato rather than ice-cream: it has less fat (cream) than traditional, read American, ice-cream; it also has less air beaten into it and uses more egg yolks. The upshot is a very creamy, thick, silky smooth consistency that when done well is heavenly. This stuff is heavenly.

I tried two flavours: Fior di Latte and Amaretto di Saronno. Fior di Latte forms the base of most of Scoop's ice-creams and is in effect an ice-creamed mozzarella or burrata. After I oohed and ahhed over the lactic creaminess of it all, Matteo Pantani, the shop's owner and evangelical gelato maker, without a word simply passed me a spoon laden with the Amaretto di Saronno gelato. The sweet alcohol was tempered by the milky cream and complemented by the warming, nutty aftertaste of almonds. This stuff is truly exceptional.

Despite English not being his first language, Matteo was keen to talk and I was desperate to listen. It turns out he has been making gelato in Italy for the last few years. I didn't quite get to the bottom of why he came here, but thankfully he did. He reckons the UK artisanal ice-cream market is pretty immature. He may have a point, although it is June, 10°C and pissing with rain. There might be a connection. Then again, the likes of Marine Ices (which up until lunchtime today was my favourite ice-cream available in the UK) have been going since 1947 so there must be some sort of market. I also think that when elevated to a culinary speciality, rather another being yet another dessert pumped with chemicals, there is no reason ice-cream should not be taken a bit more seriously over here. Scoop might just be in the vanguard.

Despite his bravura, Matteo is clearly no fool and is hedging his bets a bit. For all his gelatic (Is there such a word? - Ed.) zeal, he has hired a pastry chef to churn out dinky little pasticceria and it looks from the website that they are planning on bigging up coffee and hot chocolate as well. This all seems very canny and I can't help wonder why it has taken so long for someone to come up with the idea. Furthermore, and not that Matteo is paying me - but if you're reading this, I'll accept bribery in the form of tubs of gelati - they have introduced the rather clever idea of styrofoam containers. Which, rather than the crappy cardboard versions so often given out by ice-cream shops in the UK, keeps the ice-cream cool and means large quantities can be transported home without melting. If anyone dares whinge about styrofoam, I'll beat you around the head with your Whole Foods "organic" carrot. As an aside, I hate Whole Foods. I also can't stand AA Gill but please read his article in this week's Sunday Times, he's spot on, so is Charles Campion in the Evening Standard.

Back to Scoop. I strongly urge you to go there and take your time. Chat to Matteo, try the gelati, have a cornetti and if you have no idea what heavy boots are, read Jonathan Safran Foer's very beautiful Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. It has nothing to do with gelato or ice-cream, but a lot to do with life and New York.

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Scoop 40 Shorts Gardens, London, WC2H 9AB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7240 7086 | Mob: +44 (0)7944 779 693

Artisan knives

With only a cursory glance around a super or farmers market, one is bombarded with products claiming to be artisanal. I hate the word artisanal. I imagine it is meant to give the impression of rustic charm, of a ruddy faced, buxom wench, sieving her jam whilst her put-upon husband is down the mine. Whereas, if I see a product billed as artisanal, I think of a lazy producer or marketer who can't think of a decent way to label their product and convey the blood and tears that might (or might not) have been put into making it.

According to The Concise Oxford English Dictionary, an artisan is "a skilled worker who makes things by hand." An example of such an individual would be the genius that made my Artisan 180mm Multi-Purpose Cook's Knife. This knife is a thing of beauty and the one thing I would rescue in a fire - apart from Silverbrowess - if the place was burning down. Then again, it is made of such sturdy stuff, it might make it through the fire without my heroics. In fact, it is made of fully forged, folded high speed steel and is clad in soft stainless steel. It should go without saying it is handmade. That my friends, is the perfect example of artisanal.

I bought the knife a couple of weeks ago from a bizarrely dedicated and located shop, the Japanese Knife Company. Squashed between several hire car companies and a car-wash on the borders of a posh bit of London, the JKC sells only Japanese knives to the professional and amateur. They are obsessive in getting the right knife for you - which is important because these things are not cheap - and ensure that your cutting habits will change forever. For me, that meant buying a traditional Western design, rather than the more trendy santoku. Jayesh the owner, discussed with me at length what I cook, I gave him a demo of how I cut and he chose a selection of knives for me, the Artisan was the clear winner.

Ownership of this knife has not been without its problems, most notably, I discovered three blooming great chips in the blade. I feared this was a disaster but JKC fixed it, a process which took about two weeks longer than I had been led to expect. I'm not sure how the chips occurred, but breathed a sigh of relief that I was able to pick it up freshly sharpened today.

One of the best, but most immature aspects of my enjoyment, is that the blade is so finely cast, I can sharpen it on a few sheets of newspaper.

Po-Chung Ma-Cha

As Peter Ackroyd notes in London: The Biography, St Giles High Street has only ever been a grim part of London, bedevilled by poverty, prostitution and drugs. Therefore it can't be high on many restauranters' desired location. Yet, there appears to be a very mini-Seoul, with a couple of restaurants and a bakery. Po-Chung Ma-Cha is one of those restaurants. From the outside it is hard to confirm this is a restaurant, grime smearing the windows. Inside there are a couple of tables and a black lacquered bar with enough space for about ten people. Behind the bar are a couple of exceptionally helpful and friendly staff, willing to guide the ignorant through the menu.

I went there for the second time today and I loved it. I had three dishes: cucumber with kimchi; spring onion salad and stone bibimbap. The cucumbers were effectively new green pickled cucumbers doused in kimchi. It was a great combination of spicy and sour. The onions in the salad had been lightly pickled. I would guess macerated in some sort of vinegar - maybe rice? The result was a mellow, sweet (from the onions), sour (from the vinegar) salad, with decent crunch. The bibimbap, with vegetables and chillis was equally good. None of it was rocket science, fried egg, vegetables, rice. All of it simple and most importantly, all of it tasted great.

I have never been to Korea, and prior to my two meals here, I've only been to one Korean restaurant. I am therefore not an aficionado on whether this is good Korean food, but I know I enjoyed it. It is difficult to judge just how authentic this is. I don't always feel comfortable following the rule of thumb that if the natives are eating there, it must be good. There is no reason this should be true. It could simply be that those eating there don't have good taste (viz the popularity of fast food restaurants). However, I got the impression from my fellow diners, who seemed in the main to be Korean students, that this was a bit like home-cooked food: not outstanding, but filling and enjoyable. This was confirmed to me by Aki, who knows about such things.

Po-Chung Ma-Cha is a ray of sunshine in an otherwise relatively bleak part of the West End. Even more so on a freezing cold March day, when we should be heading into spring rather than looking for our long-johns.

Po-Chung Ma-Cha, 56 St. Giles High Street, London, WC2H 8LH, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7379 7381

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What others think

As far as I can tell, nothing else has been written about the restaurant. I'll let you know if that changes.

Villandry

Maybe I am lucky. Maybe, I choose well, but I rarely have a truly bad meal in a restaurant. The food may be dodgy but the service will be great, or vice versa. I cannot think of many times when both are off. Mother's Day lunch today at Villandry was one of those rare experiences. There were some merits to the meal but they were vastly outweighed by the problems. Which surprised me, because this is my third meal at the restaurant since management changed and it reopened in October 2006. My previous meals were great. Maybe service was on the slow side, but it did not seem to matter too much, because the execution of the food was good. On the basis of those two good meals, it was mine and Silverbrowess' recommendation that we take Ma Silverbrow there for lunch today.

Nothing any of the six of us ordered was technically complicated, or required numerous ingredients, yet everything took ages to arrive and fair amount of it was cold or undercooked. We started off by ordering two plates of Crudités with hot anchovy dip, which is basically a tamed version of bagna cauda, the classic Italian dip of anchovies, garlic and olive oil. I've had it before at Villandry and it was very good. It had a strong fishy punch and an interesting selection of crudités, including quails eggs and some sort of tomato confit. Today, about forty-five minutes after putting in our order, the copper pots of anchovy dip were under a third full (last time they were about half full) and the vegetables and quails eggs were fridge-cold. Thus negating the effect of the little pot-burner keeping the dip warm and dulling any taste the veg might have had. The cold veg combined with the rapidly cooling dip, made the whole dish a bit pointless.

Next came the real tour de merde: the main courses. Three of us ordered egg based dishes (one scrambled, two poached), there was a salad, beef tartare and mac n' cheese, plus sides of chips and zucchini. None of these are taxing, Silverbrowess could make all of them in her sleep (except possibly the beef tartare which might freak her out, but you get the point.) These took another twenty odd minutes to arrive, except for one dish: my sister's order of poached egg and smoked salmon on toast. Of all the dishes this has to be the most straightforward to prepare. Put some bread in the toaster, boil some water and vinegar, chuck the eggs in, swirl them around a bit, leave for a minute plus a couple of seconds, butter the toast, place eggs on toast, smoked salmon on top and away. Except not at Villandry. Initially they forgot the salmon, so the dish went back down to the kitchen. Some credit might be given to them for not just plonking the salmon on top of the eggs, they started from fresh. But it took a good ten minutes (we'd all made good headway into our dishes) before the replacement arrived. She cuts into an egg and the white is runnier than the yolk. We call over the manageress, she's apologetic. Another ten minutes before it comes back again. Again, my sister cuts into it, again the egg is undercooked. Such incompetence in a restaurant charging £12.50 for some bread, egg and fish is inexcusable.

As an aside and being a pedant, I noted on each appearance the dish was presented differently. On the first occasion the eggs were on top of the smoked salmon, the next, the salmon on top of the eggs. This could be dismissed as a minor issue, or it could be seen as a sign that no-one was paying attention to what was leaving the kitchen. I take the latter view.

To add to the general woes, my eggs royale weren't all that hot, neither was the mac n' cheese. On the upside, the chips were good and I believe the zucchini were as well.

Why the incompetence? One of the miserable waiters explained that the Mother's Day rush was to blame. Few excuses rile me as much as this one. They are a restaurant with a defined number of seats. We have to assume they know their seating capacity, we also must assume they know the capacity of their kitchen. If the kitchen and the waiters can't service the number of covers, they shouldn't take so many bookings. Being busy is no excuse for a rubbish meal. Especially in a restaurant like Villandry that does its best to sit at the top of London's foodie tree.

I have been trying to decide whether my two good experiences outweigh this bad one and have concluded that they don't. This meal was so universally bad, with the basics taking centre stage in the disaster - they can't poach an egg - that little can redeem it. The manageress said she would take the offending main course off the bill and all the drinks and the service. I'd already decided that we wouldn't be paying service so that was neither here nor there. As for my sister's main course, it was the least I would have expected. The drinks sounds generous except we only drank a few bottles of water and a couple of Virgin Mary's, one of which was still on the bill. She did also offer free desserts, but we decided to call it quits and left.

I feel a bit sad it was so bad. After-all, this was supposed to be a good meal in honour of Ma Silverbrow, I had recommended it and I had had good experiences in the past. But when a restaurant repeatedly fails so miserably in one meal, there is clearly a problem. It might take yet another change of management or a particularly brutal wedgie to convince me to go back. The one saving grace of this place remains the produce shop at the front. Although even with this, many of the products, such as the Foreman & Sons smoked salmon, can be bought at decent supermarkets these days.

Villandry, 170 Great Portland Street, London, W1W 5QB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7631 3131

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What others think

Time Out - Service (by several young lads) was well meaning but amateurish; there was a distinctive hard sell on the booze too.

Fodor's - Heaven for food lovers

Frommers - Food lovers and gourmands flock to this food store, delicatessen, and restaurant, where racks of the finest meats, cheese, and produce in the world are displayed and changed virtually every hour.

Something Glorious - ...it was really the food -- and phenomenal service -- that was noteworthy.

Blooms: the redecoration

Jewish Mean Time is a bit like Greenwich Mean Time, but a bit less accurate. JMT is the excuse usually given for the genetic tardiness of my co-religionists. JMT can often be GMT +2 hours, more of course if it is British Summer Time. To the best of my knowledge, it has never been used as an excuse for being early. I was therefore gobsmacked to see Blooms reopen after its refit. It wasn't due to open until Sunday.

Sorry to get all AA Gill on you, but I am not keen on the redecoration. They've dumped the drawing of shtetl life for a much more contemporary frieze, which was not completed at lunchtime today, but looks like a scene of the (Israeli?) countryside. They've upgraded the tables and chairs and cutlery and crockery. They've got the waiters in black smocks, rather than their grubby white numbers. They have even gone for an spidery light fitting in the take-away bit and stone-effect tiling in the toilets. To me, it simply does not match the food. I was also a bit disappointed to see that they haven't bothered to update the website yet to reflect the new interior design.

But that doesn't matter because the salt-beef sandwich I had was outstanding. It was nice and moist, the flavour was subtle, not too salty and with a hint of sweetness. I would guess this is a reflection of the stock it was cooked in, although could owe a lot to the cow itself. (Although, given that most kosher beef is not from prime herds, I wouldn't expect much in that department.) The rye bread was as good as ever, with a decent punchy English mustard.

I did not have the opportunity to have a full meal, but I took a look at the menu and things don't seem to have changed much. Old favourites like wurscht and eggs or liver and onions are still there. From the the handwritten scribble at the bottom of the menu, it looks like someone forgot about the veal and chicken schnitzels, but other than that, everything is present and correct.

The menu is pretty lengthy so you have to question just how freshly cooked everything is, but despite that, on the basis of today's tasting, they do their stock-in-trade very well indeed. I'll be back for dinner soon, the livers and onion are calling.

Blooms, 130 Golders Green Road, London, NW11 8HB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 8455 1338

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What others think

At the time of writing, there are no other reviews post re-furb. I'll post them when I see them.

Forthcoming podcast: Phil Mossop & Nuno Mendes, Bacchus

I am interviewing the chef and owner of one of my favourite restaurants, Bacchus, on Tuesday. If anyone would like to suggest questions or ideas, please let me know, either in the comments below or by emailing me.

Blooms

I remembered yesterday that I had to write-up my recent meal at Blooms.  It is one of the oldest kosher restaurants in London and is in the deli, salt-beef and tongue style of Ashkenazi tradition. The type of food that kept Polish peasants warm - and therefore alive - whilst plowing potatoes.  Such concerns are not so relevant to the inhabitants of Hampstead Garden Suburb, the 21st century Pale.

The meal I had was ok, the salt beef was a bit drier than it should have been.  But, it did have a good flavour, thanks to the ring of fat attached to it.  For all you quivering weight-watchers, you don't eat the fat, you just want it to impart flavour to the meat it is snuggling next to.  The chips, disappointingly were frozen, rather than the hand-cut version I remember they used to serve.  More positively, the sweet-sour pickles packed a punch and the coleslaw was peppery and thankfully was not abominated by onion.  Despite this somewhat mixed meal, I really enjoyed myself.  I had not been to Blooms in years and I loved the atmosphere, the familiarity of the decor and the waiters, and the food itself was pleasingly comfortable but far from stellar.

I was therefore horrified to discover last night that they are currently closed for a re-furb.  Usually, re-furb means we're shutting down.  But given the licence application plastered to the front window, the massive notice in the window and on their website, I am confident this does not herald the end of an institution.

I am intrigued to see what they are doing to the place.  The infamous mural of street life left a lot to be desired (above), but was an essential element, as was the enormous mirror running down the right hand wall.  I'm particularly interested to know if they are planning on tinkering with the menu.  The majority of kosher restaurants in London, and the few near Blooms in Golders Green, are Middle Eastern: lots of grilled meats, hoummus, tahina, that sort of thing.  Dizengoff is the best, with the friendliest service and the best grilled meat, Solly's is a distant second.

However, the stodgy mittel-European food served up at Blooms appears to be going out of fashion.  Or is it?  Afterall, there are few restaurants in London that win plaudits as much as The Wolseley which is famed for its chopped liver (which I haven't tried) and its cucumber salad (which I have).

I hope the team behind Blooms stick to their guns and don't veer too far from the original.  I also hope they get rid of those sodding frozen chips and replace them with the real version.  I'll report back soon after they have reopened on 11 March.

Chodorow kicks out Ducasse

Alain Ducasse's restaurant Spoon+ is closing at The Sanderson Hotel in London.  This is big news on several fronts.  First, Ducasse restaurants rarely close (Essex House in New York is one such rarity) and second it is being replaced by a restaurant fronted by Jeffrey Chodorow.  He's relatively unheard of in the UK despite being the man behind Asia de Cuba and, er, Spoon+.  Ducasse's name is on the door, but Chodorow is the Svengali behind the operations.  Although he has a couple of places in London, he is largely unheard of over here whereas he is big news in the States.

He came to national prominence thanks to the car-crash TV programme: The Restaurant.  Chodorow and chef Rocco di Spirito were opening a restaurant and thought it would be great to do a reality TV show about it.  Unfortunately, it all fell apart, with the enmity growing between the two partners as the cameras rolled.  It was compulsive viewing that resulted in high ratings, the restaurant shutting and Rocco shuffling off into some obscurity.  Chodorow emerged seemingly unscathed.

Chodorow clearly loves a bit of controversy because he is now at the centre of another storm.  One I'm guessing his UK PR team are less than delighted about, because they are hawking him around British food writers, ahead of the new opening at The Sanderson.  This latest bust up is with New York Times restaurant critic Frank Bruni.

The Times is widely revered and the incumbent restaurant critic holds significant sway.  Before his current hallowed position, Bruni was the paper's Rome correspondent, so like many critics, he doesn't have a professional background in food.  He gave Chodorow's newest opening, Kobe Club an awful review a couple of weeks ago, with zero stars.  In what has been dubbed The Chodorow Smackdown, the restaurateur has taken his revenge with a full page ad in this week's New York Times Food & Dining section, criticising Bruni.  In an open letter to the section's editor, Chodorow takes Bruni to task for his personal attacks and points out, not unreasonably

...how does a review in which the main player, Kobe beef, is acknowledged by Mr. Bruni to be perfectly prepared, warrant zero stars?

I'm not saying that Chodorow is entirely in the right.  It would be reasonable to argue that this letter was written lubricated by a healthy dose of sour grapes.  I also question just what he expects of a reviewer, especially when he argues

...you should have critics on your staff that celebrate and support the efforts of people who work in New York

Hold on a moment, a reviewer is there to review, not to heap unquestioning fawning praise.

So, do the UK reviewers have a lot to fear?  Possibly.  I have read a description of Chodorow's restaurants as like TGI Friday's for rich people.  Clearly not meant as a compliment, it seems very possible that if he opens such an establishment at The Sanderson, Marina, Fay, Jay and the rest of them will not be too positive in their reviews.  It will be interesting to see whether we'll have a Chodorow Smackdown UK Edition.

Izakaya

Serious Eats has an interesting piece about izakaya.  From what I have read - and never having eaten at one - I think izakaya can best be described as a Japanese version of the tapas bar.

According to this month's Tatler (not available online) Alan Yau of Yauatcha and Hakkasan fame, is set to open an izakaya in London soon.  It is unclear whether his place will be closer to Hakkasan's fine-dining, or Wagamama's good value.

The Magdala

It first dawned on me when I tried to read the menu through the dirty glass.  It then hit me like a thunderbolt as I ate the warm bread, flecked with onions and dipped in home-made herby olive oil: I rarely eat anywhere by chance. Wherever I am in the world, I make sure I know the good places to eat.  I don't mean just those recommended by Michelin, I mean the places where I know I will get some decent nosh.  That is particularly true for London, my city.   I was therefore surprised to end up having an excellent lunch today in a pub that at best looks grotty from the outside, that I pass fairly frequently and that I had never heard of.

I had strong-armed Silverbrowess into a trek across Hampstead Heath, following a weekend of eating, drinking and CSI watching.  So it was that we were in South Hampstead (that nether region near The Royal Free Hospital), and nowhere was open.  If I am honest, one of the reasons we took the route across the Heath that we did, was because I was salivating at the prospect of a pizza at Fratelli la Bufala, having watched Heston Blumenthal make the perfect pizza (you have got to love Sky+).  I was therefore disappointed FlB was shut, along with virtually all the other cafes and restaurants.  Somewhat dejected, we set out back across the Heath in a vain attempt to get a table at Kalendar.  Just before we strode forth onto Parliament Hill, Silverbrowess pointed out the aforementioned grotty looking pub and suggested we at least take a look.  I thought I should humour her and so went to investigate further.

The menu was tough to read given the filth encrusting the display the case.  But from what we could make out it looked interesting.  I particularly liked the look of the roast vegetable stew with cheese dumplings.  It is rare that such effort is put into veggie dishes.  So we went in and it soon became evident that effort is a watch-word here.

The bread was the clearest example of this.  We tasted a couple of different breads thanks to the speed with which we demolished each basket.  The first, was a white bloomer, with sweet, crispy onions sunk into the thick, crunchy crust.  The bread itself was pillowy soft.  This was good bread.  The next basket was more sour than the first.  It think it had some apple juice in it.  The crust was just as thick as the onion loaf and was crunchy enough to give the gnashers a work out, again very good.

I noticed that every so often the chef would put a hot loaf down onto the pass and it would be sliced by the waitress and served immediately.  There is an adage that you can tell the quality of a restaurant by the quality of its bread.  Although many such culinary adages are downright lies (just because locals eat in a place it doesn't mean its good, they might have bad taste) this one held at The Magdala.  You know that if a chef cares enough to be bothered to bake loaves of bread on New Year's Day, then he really does give a toss what he serves you.

We both ended up having what could have been dull omelettes, the veggie stew was not on the truncated New Year's Day menu unfortunately.  Instead I got a perfectly cooked (not too dry, not too wet) exemplar, oozing with salty stilton and earthy mushrooms.  Silverbrowess had a similarly good cheese and tomato.  The chips were clearly not out of a packet, although I reckon they only had a single fry, not the double fry that is essential for good chip.  As an aside, this is yet another example of where my grandmother was right on something.  If The Magdala's chips were fried twice, they were not cooked for long enough, as both Silverbrowess and me had chips that were not cooked through.  Usually this would be a heinous crime.  Today, given my New Year's good humour and ongoing delight at finding this gem, I overlooked it.  Our meal was not rocket science, but all it takes is to do the simple things right and the punters will be happy.

The realisation that my dining out can be so formulaic was a bit depressing.  However, I think it bodes well that I found somewhere like this on the first day of the New Year.

Then again, this pub has its own notorious place in history.  It was the scene of the crime that sent Ruth Ellis to the gallows.  She was the last female executed in the UK.

Happy New Year everyone.

The Magdala, 2a South Hill, London, NW3 2SB, UK
Tel: +44 (0)20 7435 2503

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What others think

As far as I can tell, nothing has been written about this place.  If that changes, I will let you know.

Bacchus

I am in the process of reading Hervé This' Molecular Gastronomy.  Heston Blumenthal praises This in this month's Observer Food Monthly.  I was trying to explain why to Silverbrowess last night.  Although the phrase might be clumsy (as Blumenthal explains) Molecular Gastronomy has been pinned to a movement led by chefs like Blumenthal, Ferran Adria and Thomas Keller.  They are differentiated because they all believe that a strong scientific grounding is essential in the kitchen.  Silverbrowess argued that using science is not really cooking, I disagreed.  When most people want a soft boiled egg they know it takes about three or four (not eight as I said originally, oops) minutes in boiling water, but they don't understand why - and what about if you were on top of Mount Everest?  Similarly, some people know how to cook a rib of beef so that it is rare in the middle, but do not fully appreciate the process of cooking the meat and how it changes as it is heated.  Applying science in kitchen should mean we can always boil an egg perfectly and never again suffer dried out roasts.  Using or at least understanding the science, helps to ensure we get things right in the kitchen.  It is not all about snail porridge or ISI whips.

Until recently, the scientific stuff was the preserve of exclusive and expensive restaurants such as The Fat Duck or El Bulli.  Their chefs had the time and money to research.  At Bacchus they are trying to make this kind of food far more accessible.  The restaurant is in an old pub in Hoxton, an area of London's East End that has undergone significant gentrification over the last few years.  It still looks like a pub, but a smart one with dark woods, muted lighting and an expensive looking sound system.  The kitchen, and most importantly the pass, are directly opposite the door, so the first thing you see as you walk in is chef Nuno Mendes.  His floppy, lank black hair, wispy goatee and brooding manner give him the appearance of a young Salvador Dali.  Some might argue his creations are just as outlandish the artists' paintings.

When we sat down we were told some of the dishes, including the nine-course tasting menu were unavailable.  The inter-Christmas/New Year period meant they were unable to get all their usual produce.  We were also told there was no salmon, where necessary it would be replaced with halibut.  I am not sure this is a like for like swap, but both are fairly meaty, dense fish and clearly Nuno thought it would work.  We were advised to try the two house cocktails.  I cannot remember what they were called but they were both served in martini glasses, with a thick layer of foam atop a colourful liquid.  Silverbrowess' was much more refreshing, with strong hints of apple and citrus, making it quite a summery drink.  Whereas mine was much more seasonal, with lots of spice, orange and cinnamon.  They were fine, but a bit too sickly sweet for me.

If I have any criticism of the meal, it is that orange and cinnamon featured far too frequently.  I know it is the season for citrus and spice but after a while it began to grate.  Especially as the cinnamon was so intense.  I appreciate the kitchen were trying to create a theme, but they could have been a bit more subtle about it.

However, I need to caveat my criticism of the cinnamon, because it was the sheer intensity of flavour that set this meal apart from so many other restaurants.  This was best demonstrated at the beginning of the meal with the amuse bouche of tortilla and our starter of Sweet potato veloute, spiced onion cake, greek yoghurt foam.  The tortilla tasted just as you would expect of a good spanish omelette: egg, potato and onion, plus a hint of paprika.  Except, this was more like a thick soup than an omelette.  It was a perfect example of understanding the ingredients, getting the best out of them, but using them in a new way.  I accept there is not necessarily much merit in redesigning something perfectly good, but it was a clever dish and tasted good.  It also acted as a sign-post to the diner that they were about to experience a meal with a few twists.

The depth of flavour of our starter was particularly complex.  If you tasted each item by itself, it tasted of the most flavoursome sweet potato or greek yoghurt, but once you started combining the various bits and pieces, it became something new, constantly evolving as you ate.  The spiced onion cake was more like a crumble and the texture worked well with the almost-viscose veloute and foam.  However, the spice I noticed most was the dreaded cinnamon.

For main course Silverbrowess had the Halibut (formerly salmon), black olives, date and hazelnut puree, pate de brique.  The dense sweetness of the date and hazelnut worked beautifully with the black olives, which were essentially served as a juice, rather than solid.  The combination of salt and sweet was in perfect harmony.  As with all the fish on the menu, and I believe most of the meat, the halibut had been cooked sous-vide, because, when done properly, it ensures perfectly cooked fish.   As was the case last night.

My main course of Warm cod, sofrito traditional, espuma de bacolao and honey was equally  good.  The espuma, yet another conceit of MG, was astounding.  It was a foamy combination of salt cod and potato.  It was very nearly the epitome of the perfect potato dish, that was until I tasted the side of Truffle potato puree, which I could have happily eaten double portions of.   Although very unseasonal, the tomatoes, hiding underneath the cod had great flavour, very sweet.  Less of a success, was the flavour of orange, that I think came from an oil, that seemed to spike the