Review: Roast, Borough Market

Touch the roast side

Roast in Borough Market had been on the “to eat at” list for several years, but one thing or the other had made it unfeasible.  My first thought when we entered the hall was relief.  We were finally going to have some respite from the madness of Borough Market.  I had been in a surly mood as we meandered through the tourists. I almost expected to look over at the river and spy a cruise ship forcing its way up the Thames.  Lawrence Keogh’s Roast was the lunchtime sanctuary we required. 

We got off to a rocky start when we were shown to our seats and we requested a view overlooking the market by the window instead.  The Maître d’ seemed unable to comprehend and I pointed to the four vacant tables.  She explained that those tables were reserved for groups of four.  I pointed out there was a table laid for two. Her reply was that it was reserved for “guests”.  Incredulous and slightly appalled we took our seats, resolving to not let the first impressions destroy the rest of the meal.

It is undeniable that the elegant Roast dining hall is impressive with its high ceilings, oversized windows, white washed walls and classic auburn wood tones.  Never mind the views across bustling Borough Market.  As it was a glorious day, sunlight bounced off the opaque walls adding to the conservatory feel of the room.

The service at the beginning of the meal was very attentive, perhaps a little over done. Our cocktails were slow to arrive and yet our waiter approached us several times to ask us if we were ready to order.  This was despite us stating we were waiting for our aperitifs. The service throughout the meal never really synched with our leisurely lunch tempo, except at the end when it dropped off altogether.

For starters, I chose the game and juniper scotch eggs (£8.00) and Keith picked the Dorset Crab with Berkswell Cheese (£14.00).  My egg had a thick, coarse meaty layer followed by a golden crisp outer shell. They were tremendously good.  The accompanying chutney was too Branston pickle and sweet. I ended up leaving most of it.  

Keith’s Dorset crab had a creamy texture. The natural sweetness of the crab was still very much present.  It was well seasoned and the cheese accompanied the crab rather than overwhelmed it.

For the main I chose the slow-braised pig’s cheeks with parsnip mash and butcher’s sauce (£19.50) and Keith selected the buttermilk fried rabbit with Worcestershire apple salad and devilled sauce (£22.00). My pig’s cheeks were tender and soft.  They were a joy to eat and the serving was a decent portion.  The sauce was average, nothing to speak about at length.  Unfortunately, the parsnip puree was impressive visually, but that’s where it ended. It was quite dense and textureless.  I opted instead to eat our side orders; grilled field mushrooms with garlic butter (£5.50) and Roast potatoes in Britannia beef dripping (£4.50).  We sent both back to the kitchen.  First the mushroom were stone cold. When they came back piping hot with the garlic butter they were amazing. The roast potatoes were both uncooked and solid.  Immensely disappointing and I’m very unforgiving when it comes to wronged potatoes of any cooked variety. When they returned from what we assumed was the abyss of a deep fat fryer, they were super. Crisp.  Golden.   Fluffy.  Everything you expect in a roast potato.

 Keith’s rabbit deserves a drum roll, because it has been a long time since I have walked away from a meal thinking, “I can’t get you out of my mind”. The rabbit was succulent and had a full flavour. The buttermilk batter was light and crispy.  Plus there was plenty of it, but I still strangely sensed some resistance from Keith to share (ignore our vows why don’t you Keith).

The generous portions for mains (and none of the tasters we had in Borough Market) meant that we were bursting at the seams by the end of the meal.  For the sake of the blog we forced ourselves to eat a rather delicious Apple, blackberry and almond crumble with a dollop of ice cream.  We enjoyed the sharpness of the stewed autumnal fruit, coupled with the buttery, crunchy almond topping.  Lovely.

Roast was good but not without its fault.  The meal cost circa £120 and that was with a Top Table deal (£40 voucher which we paid £20 for), so yes it is quite expensive.  The service was patchier than a quilt cover. By the end of the meal I had imagined that our waiter had been sucked into Borough Market through a kitchen vent and ingested by the tourists. He was nowhere to be seen. Our advice; rock up with a tupper ware, put a foreign accent on and ask for two helpings of the rabbit.  The temporary embarrassment will be worth it. 

View Larger Map

Review: JW Steakhouse at The Grosvenor House, in Mayfair London

In the Paradise Steakhouse

We were invited to dinner at JW Steakhouse, in Mayfair (London) with fellow veteran blogger Michelle (aka @tweetygourmet). You may know Michelle for her uncompromising exquisite photography, so you can check out her site for the pictures scoop.

Starting from the beginning, it should have been apparent in the name, but we knew not what to expect from JW Steakhouse; sports wear sold by teenagers who have barely run a mile, public house bargain bottom alcoholic beverages on a bog off or an overpriced steakhouse in Leicester Square?  We were not sold on the name and we are still not convinced it contributes to the identity of the restaurant. Not surprisingly JW specialise in American cuisine, in particular the classic steakhouse offering hand-cut selections of prime beef.  As self-confessed beef lovers, we were eager to get our teeth in.

The JW Steakhouse American influenced dining room has an appealing sense of airiness which is refreshing. High ceilings and the panoramic breath of the room makes it a welcoming place to dine. The walls are wooden panelled amidst floor to ceiling blackboards of menus and Specials. Modern popular muso music unobtrusively plays in the background. There is a well stocked “Bourbon bar” at one end of the room with a TV (and incongruous London bus poster) which should probably be taken down, if we abide by old fashioned manners. As you can tell, the atmospheric dim lighting was not helpful for our photography, but played a part in creating a relaxing place with a fun weekend buzz.   

For my starter I chose the JW Maryland style lump crab cake, with old bay tartar (£14) and Keith picked a haddock and sweet corn chowder which formed part of the Specials board. We were informed that the crab cakes used a minimum amount of potatoes and fifteen crabs! I have to say that the crustacean sacrifice-cum-massacre was very much appreciated. The crispy outer-coating enclosed shredded, moist crabmeat with a subtle spice and was pretty much perfect as crab cakes go. As there was hardly any potatoes, there was no interfering stodgy texture. The haddock chowder should not be a special. It should form part of the main menu as it was delicious. The creaminess of the soup was pleasantly interrupted by flakes of haddock, nibs of golden corn and rafts of what we think was spinach.  Keith was pleased that it was not over seasoned.

For our mains, I chose the 8oz fillet beef steak (£33) with a creamy horseradish sauce (£4) and Keith adjusted the notch on his belt and ordered the 16oz Kansas City Strip (£36), with a Port and Stilton Sauce (£4). We paired our mains with a Ridge Lytton Springs Californian Zinfandel 2007, which was recommended by the Sommelier. We have our own expectations on steak plus wine pairings, but I would have loved to have heard more vociferous and confident options presented to us. On the whole the wine was excellent with berry, spice and zing, but a more robust South American Merlot would have made the steak really pop!

Back to our steaks. Mine was perfectly cooked (pink in the centre), as was Keith's. Michelle was not as fortunate. The waiters have a policy of asking you to check your meat whilst they wait. The problem was rectified immediately and she was presented with her beef as she had requested it. The steaks were undoubtedly excellent quality.  Unfortuanetly, my fillet was served with cherry vine tomatoes which were watery and a touch on the tart side.  It would have probably been preferable to have picked an in season garnish.  My horseradish had a generous kick but was a fraction too cool.  I also wish it had been less of a condiment and more of a runny sauce.  Keith's 16oz Kansas strip steak on the bone served in attractive cast iron skillet, had reasonable marbling which made his steak succulent and moist. Whilst the skillet served as a warming dish for the steak, it was unfortunately quite cumbersome and clumsy when attacking the beef.  The boozy port and stilton sauce was a lovely balanced combination of fruit and cheese which together, with the rich grilled beef and berry wine, sang a perfect combination.  My favourite accompaniment was Michelle's Bourbon peppercorn sauce. I loved the spicy, subtle heat and lick of whisky.  I would like to see Paul Hallett, Head Chef, put a firm stamp on JW Steakhouse.  I would have expected there to be a “JW Steakhouse sauce”, developed and lovingly created using those French and American influences that have obviously bewitched him.

Our side dishes were sautéed wild mushrooms, market potatoes aux gratin and Bourbon sweet potato mash marshmallow crust.  Both the former sides were superb.  The potatoes in the gratin were firm and the enveloping creamy sauce was cheesy and gooey. It has been a long time since I have left anything on my plate whilst eating out, but the sweet potato mash just did not work for us.  Aesthetically, it was beautiful.  The cast iron serving dish had bouncy pieces of browned marshmallows basking on the top.  As you dipped a spoon in, strings of marshmallow melt climbed from the pot.  It should have been a great culinary moment, but instead, even with my sweet tooth, I found myself wincing from the saccharine flavour.  We would put this side order in Room 101 with Carl Junior's guacamole bacon six dollar burger, Outback Steakhouse Aussie cheese fries and 1.3 litres of teeth rotting root beer, and just throw away the key.

By dessert, we were all so full, and looked to each other for encouragement. Pushing on for the sake of our blogs, we ordered warm apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream (£8), a massive cheesecake (easily enough for 3–4 people) (£9) and Saint Michelle chose a selection of sorbet (£7).  My apple pie was quintessentially American with a delicious golden crust and tangy, but sweet stewed apple and sultana filling.  Keith's cheese cake was a prize winner.  It had a crumbly, but sweet crispy crust, similar in texture to demerara sugar. Layering the crown was smooth, whipped cream.  The cheese filling itself not too sweet and surprisingly light. 

After the meal, we debated how we thought JW fitted in with other steakhouses.  For awhile I could not place it.  Then I remembered Delmonicos in New York, whose reputation precedes it.  It occurred to us how few upmarket steakhouses there are in London.  JW Steakhouse is an undisputed popular place with groups, couples and solo diners.  There are the makings of a great dining experience.  However, we believe JW Steakhouse needs to work on its individuality, whilst keeping up its quality, friendly service. Steak and wine are two peas in a pod, therefore an investment in personalities who believe and sell the wine would also be recommended. Paul Hallett needs to let his creative flair loose and mastermind his own dishes underpinned by American influences, and not the other way round.

Related Posts

• Review: Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental,  London
• Review: Jamie Oliver's London Barbecue Revolution at Barbecoa
• Review: Kopapa, Peter Gordon brings fusion cooking to London's Theatreland

View Larger Map

Review: Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at the Mandarin Oriental, London

I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant

Are we the only ones who think that Heston Blumenthal's Dinner at the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park could have been the culinary joke of the decade.  Medieval cuisine of ye olde Angelcynn?  Are you kidding me?  Imagine if Heston had decided on calves head with oysters or ”boyled” sparrow with rice.  Would us Foodies faithfully consume his concoctions with open hearts and joyous minds?  Probably not.  We are not that naive.  Luckily Professor B has been more selective on his menu.  In fact, Dinner boasts a unique array of the best of historic British cuisine. 

The decor of the dining hall is incongruously modern. Jelly mould light fittings, leather clad wall panels, dark wooden tables, with broad curved seats, as well as chunky swash-buckling ceiling lights, adorn the room.  It's a modern medieval style perhaps, but only if someone drew it to your attention.  Then you strangely pan left to verdant and enchanting views of Hyde Park. The decor is not the only oxymoron to grace the Heston experience as we soon discovered!

Since we were celebrating St Valentine's Day we started with an aperitif of Ruinart Blanc de Blancs, whilst we perused the menu and nibbled on bread.  Incidentally, I am trying to play down our excitement.  Just two hours before I was clapping like a seal in anticipation.  Enough about how uncool I am though. 

For starters, I chose the roast scallops in cucumber ketchup and borage (£16) and Keith picked the famed Meat Fruit (£12.50), which we washed down with a glass each of the Pinot Grigio Schiopetto Collio 2008 (£14.50 each).  My scallops were plump, soft cushions and the drizzle of the punchy, tart sauce freshened the dish.  I was unsure of the borage.  It added a meaty, wintry quality, but at least it was not too overpowering.  The Meat Fruit was the show stealer.  Glistening like the star it knows it is, the quasi chicken liver parfait encased in a mandarin and orange jellied shell was amazing.  It was smooth like velvet and deliciously rich. Paired with the Pinot Grigio with its light, loose texture, peachy, vanilla undertones and ultra light acidity, we had a perfect beginning to our meal.         

Unfortunately, my first choice of mains, the Beef Royal (slow cooked for 72 hours) was not available, but there were plenty of appetising second choices.  I eventually decided upon the Spiced Pigeon in ale and artichokes (£32) and Keith picked the Sirloin of Black Angus (£30) accompanied by mushroom ketchup, red wine juice and triple cooked chips.  Petrified that I may suffer from chip envy, I too asked for a portion of the infamous thrice fried pommes de terre even though it was not an option for a side.  The kitchen provided without a squeak of problems.  The wine menu was comprehensive, but we would have loved it if there had been more descriptions round the grape varietal and flavours.  We consulted with the Sommelier, expressing a preference for Portuguese wine and eventually settled on a Dão Quinta da Fonte do Ouro 2006. 

My pigeon was amongst the most tender and succulent meat I have ever known.  If melted in my mouth like a Lindt Lindor Chocolate Truffle Ball and I found I barely needed to masticate. The jus was Christmas in a sauce; boozy, fruity and spiced.  I found myself cutting the meat into tiny semi-bite sized pieces so that I could spin out this divinity.  Keith's griddled beef was superb.  It was not the best we have had, but it was cooked perfectly (medium rare). The discs of light melt in the mouth bone-marrow were encrusted with crispy breadcrumbs and chives.  In great anticipation we tried the triple cooked chips.  We were slightly disappointed.  I had expected them to be crispy on the outside, but fluffy in the centre, but they were crunchy all the way through.  The cliché presentation (chips in a bucket anyone?) has been overdone; Ramsay at the Narrow, Maze Grill, Jamie at Barbecoa. Yes it is cute and well presented, but dig a tiny bit deeper Heston into your bottomless pit of originality.  Our wine pairing was a winner with the pigeon and beef.  We admired what looked like a chalice of crimson blood. The aromas of berries were very powerful but wafts of leather and a teasing of salt were much more subtle.  It was a wonderfully elegant choice; robust enough to stand along the beef, but mild enough to compliment the game without enveloping it.  

By this point I was so deliriously happy.  Partly on account of the gastronomic experience, an obvious alcohol induced joy, the company of my wonderful husband and the icing on the cake, I had caught a glimpse of Heston.  

We were at the cheese course which entailed a selection of six British cheeses, cider apple chutney, muscat grapes and pear, which our waitress mistook for apple (£10).  This was accompanied by sliced walnut bread and oat crackers.  We also picked a 1985 Taylor's Vintage Port (£35), which our Sommelier kindly split over two glasses.  The cheeses as far as we could tell were goats, cheddar and Camembert (equivalent) from Tamworth.  We missed the other three as the waitress' accent was quite thick and we had already asked her twice to explain the board.  The ruby port was full bodied, uber smooth, rich in ripe berries with honey notes. 

We were reaching the end of our journey.  We had decided at the beginning of our meal we would spoil ourselves with three desserts; the famed Tipsy Cake with spit roast pineapple (£10), Brown Bread Ice Cream with salted butter caramel malted yeast syrup served on an olive oil biscuit (£8) and Chocolate Bar with ginger ice cream (£8.50).  We selected two glasses of sweet dessert wine; 2006 Tokaji Aszu 4 Puttonyos,from Hungary (£19.50) and a 2004 Eiswein Zweigelt Süss, Weingut Steindorfer from Austria (£25.50).  As you can see from our photos, all the desserts were beautifully presented.  The tipsy cake was a moist buttery brioche style glazed cake.  It was piping hot and the wedges of pineapple were perfect with the doughy goodness.  It was soaked in Sauterne and the boozy aromas of sweetened citrus wafted appealingly from the fashionable cast iron mini-caldron.  The chocolate bar, well, admire its pristine sheen and flecks of gold leaf.  Its partner in crime, the ginger ice cream was what elevated this dessert from being an aesthetically pleasing, tasty, gooey mass to the the realms of heavenly chic.  It had a kicking heat and sharpness which was incongruous to the cooling effect of the ice cream.   Keith's dessert's excellence laid in the texture and flavours; Crunchy biscuit, salty peanuts which chewy caramel with a savoury yeasty ice cream.  Lovely.  Our desserts wine were undoubtedly top notch.  Keith had been pining to try a Tokaji for a while and he was not disappointed.  Bursting like golden sunshine, it was smooth and not overtly sweet like a Sauterne.  My Eiswein was unsurprisingly syrupy, rich and note the beautiful dusky, flame colours.  It is a very special choice.

We had a lovely memorable meal with plenty of gastronomic delights to be enjoyed, but we do not agree with Giles Coren that this is the best new restaurant in the world.  Dinner is much more casual than you might expect.  It does not make it less special, but I would not classify our experience as fine-dining if that is what they were intending.  The service was great, but not outstanding.  There were a few occasions where the unimaginable occurred and we saw the bottom of our glasses for example. However, there is time for Dinner to reach the excellence assocaited with The Fat Duck.  We would define it as the rich man's Barbecoa.  If we are comparing Dinner to recently opened establishments then Roux at the Landau was far superior.   

Our meal cost £382.25 including a 12.5% Service Charge.

View Larger Map

Review: Manna, in Primrose Hill, London a Vegetarian Delight

And in a manna of speakin'

Every January Keith and I embark upon a month of detoxing.  Some years we are quite good at the detox, other years we stumble trough with blips along the way, lucky to make it to February.  However, every year we try.  Three years ago we happened upon a vegetarian restaurant, Manna in Primrose Hill, which complimented the dietary requirements of our temporary lifestyle.  We were so impressed with Manna it has stayed in our minds ever since.  Thus, for this year's detox we decided we had to go back to blog about this wonderful restaurant.  We have long passed poo-pooing vegetarian dishes.  As a teenager and probably into our early twenties it was considered improper to dine with meat eaters and select a vegetarian dish.  In fact this week when we told friends we were having dinner at a vegetarian restaurant, they were confused about why we would ever go in the first place.

Within seconds of entering Manna it is clear it has aesthetic appeal. The decor is reminiscent of the outdoors and nature and yet there is an elegance that you would expect from an eatery in Primrose Hill. I felt relaxed. It felt like home.  Surprisingly, despite being the second Saturday in January, nearly every table was taken.  Manna's popularity had not diminished over the last three years.

We were not allowed to drink wine unfortunately.  Instead we ordered two mocktails. They were so refreshing, both were drunk in about ten minutes. We would have probably preferred them in highballs and to charge extra as they were so zingy and thirst quenching. One was simply not enough, especially when nibbling on the wonderful basket of homemade breads with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  We took a cursory glance at the wine list and there was a reasonable range of medium bodied red wines and refreshing, light acidic white wines.  We did spy a Chateauneuf du Pape (2006) which was about the heaviest wine on the menu.  It was priced at a steep ninety pounds.  If you are interested in organic wines, you will not be disappointed.

For our starters I ordered crisped ravioli and Keith chose bonda and ragada, which was an original selection of spicy potato cakes. My ravioli consisted of three crispy, crescent shaped parcels of field mushroom and walnut pâté.  The crisp ravioli was served with a fennel cream sauce and sundried tomato pesto. There was a number of very powerful and competing flavours in this dish.  However, the aromatic nature of the fennel was toned down by the cream, but equally was strong enough to stand beside the intensity of the field mushroom and nutty flavour of the walnut pâté.  I was very impressed with Keith's moist spicy potato cake starter.  Bonda is a deep fried potato snack in a gram flour batter, whilst regada is a smoky almond pattie with an amazing blend of ethnic spices including cumin, turmeric and garam masala, which together are surprisingly subtle.  Again the accompanying mustard pear and mint coriander chutneys could have been too overpowering but instead the fruity, sweetness and refreshing mint were harmonious to the overall dish.  My favourite touch was the sprinkle of bombay mix, which gave the starter bite and crunch.

For mains Keith picked enchilladas and I chose the leak and mushroom risotto strudel. Both were unexpectedly generous portion sizes.  Keith's enchiladas had a soft creamy texture.  It was filled with spinach, bortolli beans, sweet potato and cheese.  It was accompanied by brown rice, guacamole and a crunchy vibrant, pepper salsa.  My leak and mushroom risotto strudel, served with kale was amazing. The crunchy, flaky pastry enveloped the rich, rustic risotto in a cylinder parcel, and the rich dark, truffle gravy flowed around the strudel providing an added dimension.

 

As we waited for dessert, we ordered two decaffeinated lattes, which turned out to be a big mistake.  If you are not used to soya milk you may find it highly unsatisfying. As for the decaffeinated selection, well that was just plain stupid on our part.   

The table service was attentive, but not obtrusive.  We noticed that our waitress changed through the evening several times. However, there was never a dip in the level of service.  It seemed as if any of the waiters were willing to pitch in and help where necessary.  The bar tender made the mocktails with diligence and care.  Even though we were essentially drinking juice, he mixed them with the same attention you would have expected when preparing an alcoholic cocktail.

The dessert was the satisfying punch line to Manna. What a delight! We had seen slabs of pudding being served which through eavesdropping we discovered was a light tiramasu cheesecake topped with a ball of almond ice cream and served with a chocolate, cointreau sauce. That was Keith sorted. It did not go unnoticed that Keith only shared one spoon of pudding with me.  Meanwhile, I grew weak for the manna fruit crumble and ice cream.  The first outer thick layer was crumbly and crunchy, whilst the fruit strata of stewed apple was piping hot and spicy. My vanilla ice cream was rich, creamy and thick. I love the contrast of hot and cold.

In between the starter and main courses, Keith whispered to me in a hushed voice, "do you think there are any meat eaters here?" as if he was an Arsenal supporter sitting in the West Ham stands of a football match. With equal trepidation I furtively scanned the room. There was a gentleman with a tight curly mop of hair that was far too long as well as another guy wearing a tunic style top. "A few" I whispered back "but I think they've also built their reputation on serving really tasty food." This is a statement which I still stand behind, as I believe this is the key to Manna's success. 

View Larger Map

Review: Katzenjammers in London Bridge. Beer swilling good fun!

We missed you hissed the love-katz

In preparation for our trip to Southwold, we had the intention of buying a multitude of delicious deli foods and snacks from Borough Market in London Bridge. We had skipped breakfast so that we could "sample" snack and grab lunch at a stall, so by the time we arrived in South London we were starving. Then disaster struck. The market was still closed for the Christmas holidays. Fail! Thwarted and jaded after journeying across the City for nothing, we scrounged around for alternative lunch venues.

Randomly, Keith did a search on his phone and found Katzenjammers, which is a German / Austrian restaurant. If I am being honest with myself it sounded very unappealing.  Reluctantly, I agreed to look at the menu.  As if the image in my head was not bad enough Keith pointed to some random stairs leading underground. Images of Austrian serial killers swarmed in my head. "You are joking!" I scoffed in disbelief.

Miraculously, curiosity overcame fear and I followed Keith down the staircase with strange murals of steins and bottles on the walls. In the dining hall, it was several minutes later when I realised that we had not spoken, our eyes were wide open and mouths agape like crocodiles.  The room was large and open planned with an obviously well stocked bar at the far end. The ceiling was vaulted, but plainly decorated; just white washed brick work and large poster pictures. The furniture consisted of pale, blond large kitchen tables with heavy benches. We found it quirky and fascinating!

I happily agreed to eat. The menu had a choice of at least 35 beers. The wine list was less expansive, and in fact, two of the red wine options were not available. It could have been on account of the holidays.

For starters, I chose what I can only describe as Bavarian macaroni and cheese. Keith picked a Bavarian ravioli topped with tangy tomatoes and crispy onions. The portion size of my pasta was huge. The cheese used was very mild and non-greasy and intermingled was red onions. It was strange, but not necessarily in a negative away. With every moorish mouthful I ventured, I expected it to turn into mac 'n' cheese. Of course it never did.  Keith's herby pork ravioli was cooked perfectly.  The texture was firm and the ravioli was smothered with a thick, juicy tomato sauce.  Whilst it was very similar to Italian ravioli, it was made special by the rustic homemade feel to the dish.

We ordered more beer and wine whilst we waited for our mains.  A group of strapping young lads were taking up two tables.  At one stage, one of the guys was balancing a tankard of beer on his chest (much like a seal with a ball).  The waitresses did not smile until the moment they placed whatever they were serving down in front of them.  Then they would burst into a genuine smile.  They would carry multiple tankards of beer in one go and slop then down as beer spilt everywhere.  The group of lads would roar everytime this happened.  It occurred to me we had walked into a Bavarian cliché.  Then, at one stage the strapping young lads took it in turns to do press-ups!  All that was missing was a monkey wearing lederhosen playing a lute!

As if on cue, the waitress appeared with traditional schnitzel for me and pork and beef sausages for Keith, both accompanied with pommes frites.  The strapping lads, beers, and now sausages were all very masculine.  I was basking in the high levels of testosterone in the room.   My schnitzel looked very appetising.  Again, it was a generous portion size, but also a beautiful golden colour.  The pork was lean, tender, whilst the breadcrumbs coating provided the meat with crunch.  As one might expect there was ample selections of sausages; platters, taster plates, single sausages or two types.  Keith chose a beef sausage which was tender and smoky and a pork sauage which was spicy, peppery and chewier. It was a proper, wholesome dish.  We seemed to be eating forever, which was probably on account of the colossal portions.  We liked that.

Dessert was a let down. We spied the strudel and made a pact that we would only order it if it was homemade.  We asked the waitress and she confirmed it was.  As the atmosphere was quite lively, there was a chance she misunderstood us.  I am sorry to report that it was almost certainly a Sara Lee strudel.  To add to the disappointment the ice cream was about 60% ice and 40% some tasteless matter pretending to be a dessert.  Oh well!  We love strudel so no real harm done.

A late lunch in Katzenjammers was unexpected.  However, we loved the unusual atmosphere, uniqueness of the restaurant and homely cooked meals.  It would be great for dining out with friends. Beer swilling good fun!

View Larger Map

Review: Little Italy, Soho London

When we walked through Little Italy

We had considered dining at Little Italy in Soho for my uni mates annual Christmas party last year, but we were scared off by the twenty pound deposit per head.  Yes we were being cheap, but this year I got it in my head that I wanted to dance and the restaurant is renowned for pushing the tables aside and allowing the punters to boogie late into the night.  Opposite the world famous Ronnie Scott's and set over three floors and with with a number of bars, this restaurant is an institution in Soho.  Whilst we had been to neighbouring Bar Italia in the early 1990s, I was curious if European chic could work in London.  The Polledri family have owned his restaurant for decades and despite the enormity in size of Little Italy, there is an authentic Italian ambience which hangs in the air.

There were ten of us dining that night and I was scared with how they would cope with us, let alone four floors of clients. When we were shown to our tables it was beautifully decorated with ribbons, crackers and walnuts. Baskets of bruschetta, butter, olive oil and balsamic were laid on the table and the staff kept them refreshed through the night.  I have noticed from reviews that I have read that the cover charge for bread, olives and the such is unexpected to many diners.  If you eat in Italy, the cover charge is common place.  My advice would be to enjoy the bread, tuck in and accept it as part of the meal.

Our wine order of a Chianti and Panizzi was taken swiftly and the waiters had wine in our glasses and jugs of water on the table in under five minutes.  A waitress whipped around and took each of our food orders.  A part of me was suspicious and cynical at the quick wine service and decided that I was going to keep an eye out to ensure the wine pouring was not abused.  Despite some over pouring I found it refreshing that despite how busy Little Italy was, we were getting attention.  If we needed more liquid refreshment the staff were quick to assist.

My starter was the ravioli with ricotta and walnuts in a butter and sage sauce, whilst Keith chose the duck slices with fennel shavings, orange segments and redcurrant chutney. My ravioli was naughty, nutty and piping hot.  The sauce was rich and creamy and I moped up every last bit of buttery goodness with french bread.  Keith's duck was a simple dish served cold, but had been smoked.  Together with the sweet, fruity accompaniment this dish offered a great balance of flavours. 

For our mains I chose the pan fried salmon in a leek and prosecco sauce with sautéed potatoes and Keith picked the lamb shank in a port reduction with stewed cabbage and potato purée.  My flaky salmon was considerable in size which pleased me immensely.  It was cooked in an uncomplicated fashion, with a little seasoning and evenly all the way through.  The sauce it self was creamy, but not smothered and sautéed potatoes and shoe-string crunchies provided texture and contrast to the smooth fish.  Keith's lamb was as it should be; the tender meat which fell off the bone was a generous portion plus seasoned perfectly.

Wine was flowing and there a dynamite buzz in the air.  I scanned the room and finally realised where all the good looking single men in London were.  Firstly in this room, where too tight trousers and impeccably coiffed hair was the order of the day, and secondly two streets down on Old Compton Street, where equally constricted pants and salon glistening hair is a must.  A magician was floating from table to table.  We are of the Paul Daniels and David Copperfield era so we were very pleased with the lighthearted entertainment.   As the magician weaved her sorceress magic over us, one of our friend's was determined to out her tricks.  There were somethings I could not explain, even when I concentrated hard. In my head I tried to silence my friend in case the magician bestowed a curse on us.  I am pretty sure we escaped unscathed.

The dessert course was a trio of (mainly) Italian favourites; panettone bread and butter pudding, panna cotta with winter wild berries and banana pancake. Each were great and the variety was welcomed.  I particularly loved the panna cotta where the creaminess in cute cups with the fruity jelly mix combo was delicious.  Keith picked the stilton which carried an extra charge of £4.50.  It was a disappointment to be honest unfortunately.  The stilton was not particularly creamy and there was only one type of cheese, which is unusual.  I failed to see why it should command an extra charge.  The main dessert is such good value, I would recommend if you do have the set menu, to choose the trio.

Lastly, we were served nuts and clementines.  We should have been served coffee and panettone but we were never offered any.  I did not realise at the time as we too busy guzzling our Chianti.

At ten-thirty the music was turned up.  The tables were moved back and a dancing space appeared.  Our group were enthusiastic about the music and we threw some ambitious shapes on our make-shift dance floor.  Twirling, flute playing, twisting, the can can and the robot featured in a our box of tricks. Reluctantly, at mid-night á la Cinderella stylée we were forced to peg it to catch our last train.  With all shoes present, no pumpkin carriage waiting, we scuttled through Soho, smiling smugly from a wonderful, fun-filled evening in Little Italy.  The box of tricks were re-sealed only to re-emerge, well, the next night actually...  

The set-menu excluding drinks was £46.50, with a service charge of 12.5% added to the bill.

View Larger Map

 

Related posts:

• A Simple and Tasty Antipasto
• Recipe: Smoky and fiery salami pasta
• Recipe: Memories of Verona - Gorgonzola and Walnut Pasta
• Recipe: Decadent Panettone Bread and Butter Pudding

Review: Tierra Brindisa in Soho. Authentic Tapas in London.

I'm on tapas the world looking down on creation

We were close to desperation when we spotted Tierra Brindisa from across the t-junction between Broadwick Street and Lexington Street in Soho.  Both our pre-planned lunch options had failed us by being closed after 3pm.  We had tried several places off the cuff, but like Mary and Joseph we were turned away.  There was no room at the inn.  We were wandering through Soho like hyenas on the prowl.  Across the stone clad street, we spotted an unassuming green door.  It beckoned invitingly like the transom into Never, Neverland.  On close inspection it was Tierra Brindisa, sister restaurant to Tapas Brindisa in Borough Market.  In between gnawing at Keith's femur, I managed to utter the simple words “Are you still serving?” at the Waitress.  She answered yes and beckoned us to pole position in the corner leather seats on the frontline of the restaurant

We shrugged of our Christmas baggage and immediately sought refuge in the wine list where a cheeky Conde de Valdemar Crianza 2006 beckoned seductively.  It might as well have been steaming hot Ribena as this was seriously quaffable.  This wine has tobacco and black pepper undertones but the dominant Tempranillo grape (90%) gives this it an amazing Jessica Rabbit appeal… full bodied. 

Keith and I settled in and noticed they had borrowed out chill out music from home, which was a big mistake on their part as we had decided we were now part of the furniture based on the Conde de Valdemar.,

We were not in a rush, especially after knowing there was only Christmas shopping on the other side of that green door, so decided to order our Tapas Spanish stylée, that is, as required.  We are all about the dried cured meats (I like to pretend it contributes to my Atkins diet), so we ordered a charcuterie plate of spicy chorizo, peppery salchichon and Teruel ham and loin.  Our platter was served with bread and a gloopy olive oil.  Amazing.  The charcuterie plate was everything we believe in.  Happy pigs skulking around the countryside being happy some more, and then when reincarnated, are happy tasty dried cured meats.  Simple, pure ingredients of high quality that have been cared for. 

Later we chose our tapas; Ham and chicken croquetas, octopus a la gallega, revuelto of eggs with wild mushrooms and truffle oil and prawns al ajillo, served with herby salad dressed in a moscatel vinaigrette.  The croquetas were piping hot, crispy on the outside with a smooth paste consistency on the inside, bar tiny nibs of ham.  They were of course accompanied by the food nod.  The chilli, garlic prawns had been served at the same time. We have to admit, initially we were a little disappointed.  My mother makes restaurant quality prawns and we did not really feel that that they compared.  We were promised garlic and expected it. We then had the idea of basting and turning over our pink friends.  We left them a few minutes and retired to the revuelto, which was a good move.  When we returned to our rosy crustaceans it was as it should be; pungent and powerful.  The revuelto was yummy. The truffle oil was not too over powering, but nonetheless aromatic and rich.  It was the deal breaker to the dish which would have otherwise been scrambled eggs and 'shrooms.  Our favourite tapas was the octopus a la gallega. We do not shy from our eight-legged mate, who so many think is tougher than OJ Simpson.  But no, the octopus was cooked perfectly and full of flavour. The accompanying sautéed potatoes were spicy and offered a contrast in texture to the tenderised octopus.  You must try this dish you make it to Tierra Brindisa, as this is how Octopus should be cooked. 

We were on a roll. The Baked la Bauma cheesecake, made from goats cheese and accompanied with tomato jam, streaks of honey and a dusting of cinnamon was the only choice for us (we shared).  We decided on Finca Antigua (Moscatel) from the La Mancha region as our dessert wine. We loved the rich and unusual flavours incorporated in this dessert but they work best in unison.  Could they not be somehow brought together?  This would mean that whilst I chat away (as I invariably do) and forget to run my spoon through the honey, I do not feel like I lucked out with my mouthful.  By the way, it is undeniable that goats cheese and tomatoes are a winning combinations.  We have not had such an uncontrived dessert in a while.

Last but not least, Cheese.  The cheese board selection had an abundance of variety; Goats cheese, Manchego, Mahon cow's milk cheese and Valdeón Picos de Europa.  Then enhancing the favours of the cheeses were quince paste, red grapes, tomato jam and an almond fig roulade.  Keith is all about the variety so the ample choice was heaven for him. The xylophone of mild to strong cheese also allows the diner to enjoy a full range of regional cheese.  This was one of the most comprehensive selections of cheeses we have experience in a while. 

I want to stop here in our synopsis of “lunch”.  I will use that word lightly as at one stage I was almost begging the waitress to “let us go”.  Like she had some magic hold over us.  Minx.  It might have been the delectable wine or the prospect of more Christmas shopping, but the lure of drinking the granacha and seeking sanctuary in Tierra Brindisa was too enticing!  There were two more glasses of wine and a guest appearance from my sister, and we left smugly satisfied we had evaded the last of the Christmas shopping, at least until this morning…

Related Posts

• A trip down to Borough Market
• Recipe: Octopus Curry, An Authentic Taste of Seychelles

View Larger Map