Film Review: I Am Number Four

I played the number four

We went to see “I am number four” with little to no expectations, which is just as well.  I had spied a snippet of the film and had allowed myself to believe this maybe another new kid on the block superhero film.  Alas no.  The film is an adaptation of a book of the same name aimed at young adults, a genre, which seem to be breeding a whole host of “twists on a classic tale”. Director, D.J. Caruso has directed “Disturbia” and “Eagle Eye”, both films we enjoyed. I had assumed the reason why was the common factor Shia LaBoeuf. The jury is still out

Alex Pettyer plays John Smith aka Number 4, one of eight teen aliens with extraordinary gifts of having blue lights shoot from their palms that allow them to perform all manner of superhero type tricks; use kinetic energy to hurl people around, bounce here and there, start cars, amongst other powers.  John and his protector Henri (the wonderful Timothy Olyphant) are evading the Mogadorians who destroyed their home planet, are threatening human kind and now want to annihilate the eight descendents who can save earth.  Sounds familiar?  That’s because it is. 

There are several cringe-worthy moments movie-goers, all unintentional.  Henri’s advice to John to keep a low-pro is ridiculous. How does someone who should be bronzed over to preserve his stunning good looks and with whom you could scrub your clothes on his abs, blend in?  You guessed it, he lifts his hoodie.  Not really that stealthy.  In addition, the penguinesque mate for life love interest storyline is pretty gruesome.  Sarah (Diana Agron) was also part of the beautiful people, but gave up her life as one of the popular kids when she found photography.  I mean, please!

We never felt that the badie aliens were actually a threat to human kind.  They appeared to be quite menacing without any sophisticated weaponry at the beginning of the film but resorted to guns by the end.  Then one of the aliens, pins John down, mistakes the time situation and launches into a monologue.  Why the Penelope Pitstop situation to allow the good guy to escape?

The film reeks of familiarity on many counts, but remember this is a teen-movie, so youngsters today will not necessarily know Superman, Buffy, X-Files like thirty year olds.  However, if you have low expectations and are in a mood for action, CGI and fun fight scene, I can promise you it takes very few brain cells to watch this film. The soundtrack is not too bad either and features amongst others Kings of Leon and Adele.  There are less than forty-eight hours to the Oscars, but I am pretty sure the team behind this movie are not reeling from distress for not getting this in the cinemas sooner.  This is a plain action movie, which will be a box-office success.  Take it for what it is, sit back and enjoy been fifteen again.

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.

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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. 

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Review: Cezanne's Card Players at The Courtauld Gallery, Somerset House London

But I wandered through my playing cards

Climbing the marble stairs to the second floor where Cézanne's Card Players Exhibition temporarily resides, we were filled with excitement and anticipation.  When we entered the room I was confused.  The room was about 20m by 10m, with an estimated twenty pieces of art.  I leant into Keith and whispered “Is this it?”.  Peering at the collection in the adjacent room, which had nothing to do with Cézanne, I still did not understand.  I repeated the question to Keith in a hushed voice, not wanting to appear a philistine.  A wave of disappointment washed over me.   Having experienced the Gauguin exhibition in October, which was about 10 times larger, we felt a sense of dissatisfaction.  We paid £7 (£6 plus £1 online booking fee) each to see a tiny exhibition?  I pulled myself together.  I had to re-group.

The exhibition's subject matter is Cézanne's Card Players, an iconic set of masterpieces which he painted between 1890 and 1895.  The Courtauld Gallery has brought together several pieces of the card players works, one of which has been loaned from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and another from the Musée D'Orsay in Paris. Three of the painting's reside in the gallery itself.  Also included are various sketches in pencil and charcoal which the artist made in preparation.   The pictures captures farm labourers from Cézanne's family's estate in Aix-en Provence.  On immediate appraisal of the first sketch I felt a sense of serene.  Wouldn't it be great to be one of these card players; intent, absorbed and relaxed in the French countryside. 

The first question that popped into my head was why peasants?  Why not ballerinas á la Degas for example?  Or John William Waterhouse's pre-Raphaelite beauties?  During this era the peasant community were renowned for drunken, brazen behaviour.  At least that was the brush that they had been tainted with, if you pardon the pun.  The pictures by Cézanne re-invents the image of the peasants and elevates their status.  In fact, we feel timelessness, a sense of solidity and stoicism.  Cézanne's technique of short thick brush strokes, blocks of vibrant colour and deliberate detail further reinforce this feeling. 

Moving about the room, what becomes apparent is the sheer amount of effort that Cézanne used whilst creating his masterpieces.  The preparatory stills explore his vision.  One can see that Cézanne adapts his pictures, sometimes adding details and then on other occasions taking them away. For example we see sketches of a peasant smoking a pipe.  In the final picture the pipe has been omitted.  By witnessing the development of the final product, we can see how important the composition, light, and use of colour was to Cézanne.  We questioned whether the ritualist obsessive editing showed a lack of confidence, but having seen these works it becomes clear that Cézanne was a perfectionist.  In his imagination he had decided what he wanted us to see and with relentless tenacity he would cull and layer his works until he felt he had portrayed that.  Keith and I debated whether seeing the sketches and, to an extent, the technical aspects of these compositions, ruined the experience.  After all it felt a bit like seeing pictures of Halle Berry without any make-up on.  However, experiencing the effort made by Cézanne reinforces his genius.

An interesting model who creates a lasting impression is Pére Alexandre.  He features in a number of Cézanne's pictures.  He stands imposingly in the background of “The Card Players” 1890–1892, as if he is the boss.  Posing with a pipe, crossed arms and a scarlet scarf, his presence is felt immediately.  Cézanne also paints Pére Alexandre alone.  The painting has a feeling of gravitas and solidity.  His sky blue smock and red scarf are bolder on the larger canvas.  Incongruously a lady is seen in the background with a parasol.  The rural ruggedness and femininity of the damsel provide a hot and cold contrast, again asking us to re-consider our views of the rural community.

My favourite painting was “The peasant”, loaned by a private collector.  Here a young man sits with his eyes downcast. The patches of restrained colours; greens, greys, browns and aqua blues left me feeling uncomfortable.  There was a solemnity in the picture.  I could not get a definitive sense of his expression captured, but it borders on shame and humility.

The intensity around the subject matter and limited array of paintings is a window into the imagination of France's premier post-impressionist painter.  The slice of subject matter allows us, as visitors of this gallery to absorb ourselves in these masterpieces and capture a profound knowledge that can often be lost in large scale exhibitions.  Cézanne's powerful, iconic Card Players have left a lasting impression on us.  I hope that when we visit future art exhibitions, we can extract as much about an artist's psyche as we did today.

The Courtauld Gallery is also home to a variety of impressionist and post-impressionist gems.  Artists showcased in Bacon, Picasso, Toulouse-Lautrec, Degas and a favourite of ours George Seurat. 

Cézanne's Card Payers is displayed at the Courtauld Gallery until 16^th January 2011.

Exhibition entry and general admission:

Adults: £6
Concessions: £4.50 (includes over 60s, part-time and international students)

Admission charge includes entrance to all temporary exhibitions and displays.

Free admission for the following

• Under 18s, full-time UK students, staff of UK universities, registered unwaged and Friends of The Courtauld.
• Disabled Visitors can bring in a helper for free.
• Mondays until 14.00

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Related posts:

• Review of The Gauguin Exhibition at the Tate Modern

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.

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Review: Roux at The Landau

Come on Roux boy, boy

We have never dined at the Langham Hotel on Regent Street, but we have had drinks in the bar (The Artesian), Afternoon Tea in the Palm Court and a Spa Day (a friend's 30th).  During Afternoon Tea, I remember asking our waiter for a brief explanation of the patisserie items and he answered “cakes with sugar”.  It is a moment we always quote and whilst it makes us laugh, when we dined on Saturday, we were expecting a bit more.  We were at Roux at the Landau celebrating 18 years since I received Keith's letter (we were pen friends).  Do not judge us folks.  Eighteen years ago there was no internet.  There was the mail service and that was it. 

Anyway, I booked dinner as a surprise for Keith and we were so excited to be having dinner at what could potentially be a future Michelin Star Restaurant.  We dined at Le Gavroche five years ago and were eager to experience another Roux design.  Roux at the Landau is a father son collaboration, with Chris King as Chef de Cuisine and Zack Saghir as Head Sommelier.  The opening was a mere 3 weeks ago. 

We stopped for an aperitif in the opulent pagoda bar, The Artesian, where cocktails are an art.  These cocktails were made with the precision of a Swiss watchmaker.  I enjoyed a Girl from Ipanema (cocktail) and Keith had a Mad Hatter Martini.  The atmosphere was buzzing as revellers met friends for the evening.  We were disappointed when our reservation time came around so quickly and we had to move to the Roux.  Disappointment dissipated very quickly when we caught a glimpse of the wall to wall wine cabinets which adorned a the corridor leading to Roux.  A 1982 Pétrus caught our eye and we almost genuflected in reverence.

The low lit formal equine inspired dining room was our stage for the evening.  Elegance and classic was obviously about to be the order of the day.

We polished off our cocktails with an amuse bouche of green olives, cheese straws, caramelised onion pizza canapés and black olive swirl slices, whilst we selected our choices.  It was an easy.  Everything we would have picked was on the Tasting Menu and since tonight was a celebration we had no problems with treating ourselves. 

First up was the white bean velouté with manchego croquettes served with a Puerto Fino, Solera Reserva (ie a Sherry).  Beautifully presented, our mouths's were watering as the waiter poured the velouté on golden nuggets of manchego cheese.  The first taste blew us away.  The nutty flavour of the manchego, droplets of white bean happily melded with the creamy silkiness of the velouté. Chards of celery floated purposefully in the dish adding an unobvious saltiness.  Being honest sherry is not our drink of choice, but it was a complimentary and interesting pairing. We apologise for no picture.  In the moment we completely forgot to take a photo.  It was that good looking!

The first fish course was a cured salmon with créme fraiche, beetroot and caviar served with a light, citrus Sauvignon Blanc from Martinborough Vineyards in New Zealand, which was chilled to perfection. The dish was spring like and refreshing.  The beetroot was toned down.  It did not roll around the plate in a violet luminescence creating a destructive trail of aubergine streaks in its wake.  Rather it contributed a bite, which gave the salmon a necessary kick.  Together with the cool of the créme faiche the ingredients carefully balanced each other.  The Sauvignon Blanc was amazing.  Its citron, exotic undertones and spring qualities provided a light touch pairing to the salmon. It was also highly quaffable on its own!  I had a good drain of that glass!

Next up was the wild sea bass, salsify and brown shrimps, served with a Chardonnay which had been soaked in oak barrels for eight months.  Powerful, robust and distinct, it stacked up next to the chunky sea bass.  Unexpectedly the Sea Bass had a distinct meat like quality, whilst retaining a silky finish.  It was cooked in chicken stock, shrimps, sweetened by the salsify and served with a ribbon of deep fried aubergine.  In contrast to the previous course the sea bass had an autumnal, seasonal feel.

After a stretch of the old tummy, we were treated in the wine department to a Brouilly, Veilles Vignes Cuvée.  The grapes used in this wine are cultivated on seventeen year old gamay vines, drunk young and is fermented without crushing.  Brouilly is one of the premiere Beaujolais producers and not surprisingly had major gulpability!  The cherry tones, juiciness and hints of spice, together with the aesthetically pleasing deep rich fruity colour resulted in a wine which was easy on the palate. It was paired with hen's egg, chicken oysters and scatchings, with endive, shallots and hazelnut.  When the dish was set in front of us in the first instance we noticed its wonderful aroma.  Note the rich crisp egg, and the brilliance of the still runny egg yolk.  This came from a happy bird.  The chicken oysters whilst flavourful and firm, still retained a tenderness.  The shallots provided sweetness and the hazelnut gave the dish bite and crunch. 

The last meat course on the tasting menu was the red wine glazed short rib of beef, with turnips, kale and horseradish crust.  This was served with a Chateau Paveil de Luze which is Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc blend.  The instance Zack started to pour the wine, the fruity aroma hit our nostrils with a metaphorical baseball bat.  Like most Bordeaux wines this packed a weighty punch.  Strong, complex, layered and almost floral, this is just the wine for red meat.  The beef was tender and fell helplessly from the bone.  The horseradish crust had all the usual flavours except for the tartness and provided an additional crunchy texture to the meat.  The turnips were smoky and the creamy, smooth potato mash was the final touch to this wintry dish.    

With the end in nigh we entered the penultimate course, which consisted of a trio of British and French artesian cheeses; Comté from the Franche-Comté region, a brie-esque cheese from Wales and a Stilton.  This was served with walnut and raisin crackers, quince and chutney.  The pairings all evenings had been one hundred percent spot on, and Zack was not about to disappoint now.  The Caricia Rivesaltes is one hundred percent Grenache from the Pyrenees, in France.  Like a port the strawberry and raspberry sweetness was ideal with these richly, flavoured cheeses.

The wine from the last course was a Chateau de Cerons, and came from a region 15 miles west of Sauternes. On sipping, there was an immediate burst of dried apricots and honey flooding one's palate. I was interested in how Keith would cope with our dessert of pear and walnut soufflé, served with a chocolate sorbet. He does not care much for pear on account of its texture. As with every course the soufflé was beautiful. The bouncy goodness with a soft crust of almost powdery walnuts was topped with the chocolate sorbet at the table, which turned into a gooey rich sauce. As I pierced the shell of the soufflé the sauce took its opportunities to dive in with the pear. It was gorgeous. The foamy fluffy head melted in our mouths. The pear essence was there, but no coarse texture. Keith seemed more than satisfied.

The Tasting Menu with the wine pairing at Roux at the Landau will cost you £135 per person, excluding the usual service charge. We are quite certain it will only be a matter of time before this restaurant will be awarded its Michelin star. Our wonderful experience was made all the more enjoyable on account of Zack Saghir who looked after us this evening.  Amicable, chatty and with a bible of knowledge, he was willing to answer our questions on the food and wine pairings.  Zack definitely adds to the calibre of the restaurant.  It has barely been three weeks since the re-launch and yet the evident success was apparent by the lack of empty seats. The gastronomic precision, experience and passion of the Roux family unequivocally promises the diner the experience that he is craving. If you have been fortunate to have dine at La Gavroche, you will not be disappointed. Roux at the Landau, is hot on its heels.

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The Landau

1c Portland Place

London,   W1B 1JA

United Kingdom

Phone: +44 20 7965 0165

Email: reservations@rouxatthelandau.com

Review: Kopapa, Peter Gordon brings fusion cooking to London's Theatreland

Kopapa Don't Preach

In the heart of London's theatreland, Kopapa is a new addition to the hoards of restaurants in Covent Garden. Kopapa is brought to us by Kiwi Chef Peter Gordon (ex Sugar Club) and has been open (soft) since Tuesday. Kopapa is a stone throw from both Hawksmoor and Dishoom Restaurants.

When I first walked in I was shocked by how few people where there. Do people know who Peter Gordon god-father of fusion cooking is? Why isn't there a queue around the block? Keith and I like to joke that when we open the fridge and dump whatever food we have on the island in the kitchen and throw it in a pot, we are experimenting with fusion cooking. I often get the humoured look from Keith as I argue that it is ok to mix certain foods together. Unfortunately for us, none of our “experimental” meals have either the finesse or grace of Peter Gordon's.  Of course fusion cooking is not about the reinvention of leftovers and avoidance of waste.  Rather it is about the utilisation of an ingredient in a dish regardless of where it came from in the world.  We were therefore hoping to be wowed and inspired by our dining experience.

Kopapa were obviously erring on the casual upmarket cafe dining style. The setting was relaxed and the informal atmosphere, cultivated by ambient house music would be perfect for dining with friends.  We also noticed concertina windows on the facade of the restaurant, which would make Kopapa an ideal location in the summer.

We were slightly under pressure as we had tickets to the ballet but the staff reassured us that  they would be able to get us out on time.  Two glasses of a delicious 2009 George Duboeuf Beaujolais Villages were swiftly ordered and we chose to share a platter. The wine list was varied but not extensive, which was ok for a restaurant of this size.  Interestingly, Kopapa offered carafes of wine, which is a safe half way house for theatre goers.  The platter consisted of almonds, cumin olives, thickly sliced gravlax with dill, Zamorano cheese (similar to manchego), grilled chorizo and Guindilla chillies. The piece de resistance was an oversized cigar like ciabatta bread-stick.  This tapas dish was so diverse and enjoyable I did not want it to end. 

For our mains I chose a duck leg confit with Malaysian sweet potatoes, sour cherry jus and pak choi.  Keith picked the pork belly on almond skordalia and buttered kale with moromi miso and tarragon dressing. My duck leg was a very generous size (bordering on an impressive Henry VIII look) and piping hot.  The sweetness of the cherry jus was an excellent accompaniment to it. The cute soft dumplings provided an additional treat. Keith's pork belly was tender and the crackling was crispy, but not over cooked.  It was attractively presented.  Keith commented, in ignorance, to the waiter that his skordalia* was cold, but apparently this celeriac side dish (normally made with potatoes) was supposed to be served luke warm. 

We were running out of time for dessert.  We decided to go to the ballet and then return for pudding afterwards.  The accommodating waiters were more than happy to oblige.  Interestingly, there was more of a buzz by the time we arrived  just after ten. I picked the boiled orange cake with passionfruit custard.  Keith chose the brulee with light and fluffy fruit fritters.   Both were packed with flavour, and my only complaint was that my dessert had been refrigerated and was slightly too cold.

The food was on par with our expectations of Peter Gordon (who was cooking in the kitchen).  The staff were terrific, but there were some minor but completely curable first week teething problems.  We are not going to mentioned these as they are solvable and we do not envisage them becoming a problem.  Keith had always wanted to dine at the Sugar Club when he was younger, so I was pleased for him that we had fulfilled that dream in another guise. The menu was innovative and refreshingly different to so many classic or commercial restaurants in Covent Garden.  We shall definitely be recommending Kopapa.

*skordalia–  almonds, mashed potatoes, lemon, vinegar olive oil

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