January 25, 2012

A little bird told me…: Birdhouse review

I love it when great new restuarants/bars/cafes open near me. Not just because I’m lazy (I am) but I can boast to all those doubters about how cool SW London is getting. Ok, so it took me a while to kill the East Londoner in me, but I’m there now.

There’s been a fattening bounty of new openings in the past few months – The Rookery, Soif (more on those too in the coming weeks), Ben’s Canteen, Powder Keg Diplomacy… and it was chatting to the staff at my new hangover-brunch hangout Ben’s (sausage and egg bap, if you are asking) about how awesome St John’s Hill is getting – you already had independent eateries The Fish Club (get over the feeling like you are sitting in a takeaway chippie and the seafood is top notch) and frenchie Deli Boutique (at least once try their HUGE croques, go hungry or at the very least hungover) and along with Ben’s ‘mish-mash of furniture and name-checking suppliers’ Canteen there was fellow newbie Powder Keg Dipolmacy (Victoriana speakeasy with wicked punchbowls and, I’m told, British classic fare) – and he told me about another newcomer: indy coffeshop’n'cafe Birdhouse. I hadn’t spotted it, so a few weekends later I went out, in dire need of caffeine, on a hunt.

It didn’t take us long to spot the canary yellow frontage (even if the name is less than obvious).

Inside it all grey walls and tarnished stainless steel, reclaimed furniture (the bar is an old display cabinet) with yellow flashes and bird-themed prints on the wall… which got me thinking about how good it would look in my dream kitchen, making me worry about what marriage had done to my brain.

Back to Battersea, it was coffee time. One of the owner duo is an Aussie (the other half Cuban), which in London only means one thing: they know their coffee. Opting for my staple cappaccino instead of the Oz-classic flat white, I wasn’t disappointed – strong, rounded and beautifully presented.

Along with the sweet treats on the counter, there’s a short menu of breakfasty items (almost all of which were off by the time we rolled in) and toasted sandwiches.

We opted for the Serrano (me) and Lomo (the Boy), which came, keeping with the stainless steel-theme, in army mess tins.

Both wolfed down – a nice sandwich is a nice sandwich you might think – but for the cool presentation, and intersting range of ingredients, the Birdhouse boys score top marks. I just wish I’d tried the banana bread too – but there will defintely be a next time.

Birdhouse
123 St John’s Hill
London
SW11 1SZ
020 7228 6663
www.birdhou.se

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Filed under Battersea, Clapham, coffee, Restaurant Review, restaurants, SW London, Wandsworth

December 8, 2011

Seeing isn’t always (needed for) believing: MEATLiquor review

Secreted away behind Debenhams on Oxford Street of all places, is the last place you’d expect to find a divey, red-lit meat’n'cocktails bar (although in the ground floor of a NCP carpark probably is) but take off your trendy faux-NHS specs and rub your eyes and believe – for here is where you’ll find the latest ‘must try’ on the foodies radar: MEATLiquor. Once you’ve braved the queue and are inside you might forget that you are only a shopping bag’s throw from the masses of Oxford Street, partially because it is so dimly lit you can’t actually see, inside or out. But, pah, seeing what you are eating is overrated.

With just enough light to make our meat and liquor (cocktails served in jam jars, the receptical de jour) choices, we waited in quiet anticipation (and to be honest, end of work starvation) for the big moment. The burger. Now I’d heard a lot about Meateasy’s fare. And a lot of rave reviews. Although this was my first Meateasy burger (we went for a classic cheeseburger), I’m something of a (hungover usually – it’s the only cure) connoisseur – and a current fan of Bryon’s back-to-basics patty. It arrived – all gerkin, cheesy, meaty goodness – and finally it was time for the first bite. Which was swiftly followed by the first dribble of meat juice ran down my chin onto the table. By the end it was a very happy puddle and I was converted. Oh, and the cocktails were pretty darn fine too.

MEATLiquor
74 Welbeck Street
London
W1G 0BA
020 7224 4239
www.meatliquor.com

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Filed under beef, cocktails, London, Restaurant Review

September 23, 2011

Espana in SE1: José review

I’ve long been a fan of Brindisa at Borough Market and its little I-can-actually-book-a-table-and-not-wait-for-two-hours-for-one little sister in Soho. So when executive chef José Pizarro made a breakaway, it was time for a little tapas with the lovely Emma Lundin. His tapas and sherry bar, named, well why of course, José, is a tiny corner shop space à la Pepito at Kings Cross, all blackboards and barrels for tables with a small counter bar where you can see the chefs bubbling away behind. It almost easy to forget your actually on Bermonsey Street rather than in Barcelona, or Madrid or somewhere terribly cosmopolitan and continental – until a cab full of suits bundle in, braying.

I don’t need to tell you from the tidal wave of glowing reviews José has received that the food hit the mark and then some. The tomato bread smaked with that only-in-the-Mediterranean-could-tomatos-taste-so-heavenly flavour, a spoiling of cheesing and hams and chorizo and my personal favourite: mackerel escabeche. All nibbled standing at the bar while letting the most exciting conversation I’d had in a while sink in:

“Would you like some water, still or sparkling?”

“Oh we’ll just have tap.”

“Yes, they are both tap.”

Sparkling tap water! Amazing. And what’s even more amazing is that come the end of the month Pizarro is branching out with a proper sit down restuarant down the road, called, why of course, Pizarro. And I’m sure they’ll serve sparkling tap water there too… Oh, and it’s going to specialise in cavas. What more could you want? I’m there.

Photo: Emma Lundin

José
104 Bermondsey Street
London
SE1 3UB
020 7403 4902

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Filed under Borough Market, Restaurant Review, restaurants, Spain

September 9, 2011

Absence note

There’s been a bit of a famine on the Bite posts of late and I hate to leave your hungry. But by way of explanation: I got married two weeks ago.

As you can imagine, the food (and Brice champagne – a tongue-in-cheek honour to my new surname) was one of the highlights. No sad chicken or limp salmon for us. Oh no… an ‘amuse’ of a shot of gazpacho was followed by charred fillet of beef wrapped in horseradish pastry. Not to mention the canapés, the trio of desserts (summer fruits crumble, lemon tart and berries and clotted cream) and the ‘bar snacks’-inspired evening buffet featuring pork pies, chutneys, cheeses, bread and, of course, Scotch eggs. Oh and Tunnock’s tea cakes for the Scottish element. Mmm…

I have lots of posting to catch up on but for now, enjoy.

photo: Jeremy Enness

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July 27, 2011

No need to meddle with this one: Medlar review

If my ‘hood of Wandsworth is famous for one thing apart from its yummy mummies and toddlers on scooters getting under foot, it has to be the Michelin-starred Chez Bruce. Every resident and then some have been for a birthday, an anniversary or some other suitably celebratory excuse to indulge yourself in its stelthily superb service and French-tinged food with finesse. So when I heard an ex-Bruce pair were setting up just a stone’s throw over the bridge in Chelsea, I was intrigued. When AA Gill gave it the thumbs up in the Sunday Times a couple of Sunday’s ago, I knew I was almost to late: I had to go. And so we did this sunny Sunday lunchtime.

At the ‘wrong’ end of the Kings Road, Medlar strikes a subtle presence amoung the well-supplied Chelsea charity shops: a menu outside displaying that day’s offering and, shall we say, a ‘well-dined’ man sipping red wine with a carafe (all the bottles are offered as a ‘taster’ this way, if you can call 500ml a taster…) on the table next to his broadsheet Sunday paper.

Inside, the long space is split between a main front section, a couple of in-betweener booths and an airy, almost greenhouse-like back room. The decor is modern without being overly so, just as the staff are dedicatedly attentive without being in your face and the menu distinctive and ambitious without overtly patting itself on the back for its own ‘innovative-ness’. Everything is, as Thom Yorke sang, in its right place. And they make it look so god-damn easy.

£30 for 3 courses for Sunday lunch, a mere £25 during the week or £38 for dinner. It was cheaper than Brucie’s too.”Nice to see you, to see you nice!”

And it was very nice to see Medlar’s sommelier Clement who was going to sort us out for the meal. I do love it when they do that…

An aperitif of Reisling poured, home-made focaccia and sour-dough (well how can you choose?) on the side, it was time to get down to business: deciding. I could have eaten it all…

But with John Lanchester’s review in the Guardian Weekend just the day before ringing in my ears, I couldn’t resist the crab raviolo; the Boy thinly sliced rump of veal (which he managed to almost destory before I got the camera poised and ready).

Of course, it was expertly executed: the fresh, almost sweet tastes of the crab and leek filling balanced by the rich meeaty brown shrimp and sauce. And man, I need to cook more samphire… The veal too so thinly sliced it almost dissolved on the tongue was another expert balancing act.

I had no doubt the mains would follow suit (all though I could have quite happily eaten my way through the rest of the starter list in lieu). For me: red mullet with baby squid (you can always judge a restaurant on the quality of its squid… or so my squid-obsession told me). For the Boy: lamb rack and confit shoulder.

There was no way we were going to say no to desserts. Especially when with a glass of dessert wine in each of our hands. The croutade was an old Chez Bruce favourite: the Boy had a mince pie version when we went just before Christmas and turn down a repeat of a good thing he opted for the more summery cherry version. Which made a very satisfying sound as you tapped through the pastry to the goodness waiting inside.

I plumped for the apricot and cardamon ice cream with (mmm) baklava, which was pleasingly chunky and nutty while the ice cream hit with an intense whoosh through my mouth. Boy that’s a zinger.

Whoozy, full and very well fed we stumbled onto the Kings Road into the sunshine… it’s just a shame they weren’t open for Sunday dinner as well. We might have just been straight back. Well, I still wanted to try that duck egg tart…

Medlar
438 Kings Road
Chelsea
SW10 0LJ
020 7349 1900
http://www.medlarrestaurant.co.uk/

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Filed under crab, fish, Restaurant Review, restaurants, SW London

July 24, 2011

Signs of life (and spice)

It’s been a while. And just when you thought this blog had stopped bearing fruit, I’m back! And look what we have here – my balcony chilli plant too has decided to play ball.

So, there will be more from where that (and this) has come from… you must be hungry.

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Filed under spice

February 8, 2011

Dinner is served

As reviewed on CNTraveller.com
 
To open one of the most talked about restaurants of the year in Bar Boulud is a tasty hotel trump card; to now fanfare in a second is just plain greedy. But the Mandarin Oriental Hyde Park, London certainly has an appetite for good food. When it announced that Heston Blumenthal was opening his first restaurant outside Bray, where he runs the triple-Michelin-starred Fat Duck, you’d have thought from the reaction of foodie circles that the Mandarin had announced the second coming of Christ. And come the first of December, when the reservation lines opened, devotees and hype-buoyed diners called in droves. It’s now booked up until May, by which time the god of gastronomy will be safely back in Bray leaving Dinner in the hands of head chef and his trusted Fat Duck former-deputy,  Ashley Palmer-Watts.
 
When we arrived for lunch at Dinner on Sunday, Heston, it appeared, had taken his divine-decreed day of rest, as Palmer-Watts and his team buzzed around the central show kitchen creating the real star of this show: the food. From his futuristic creations of molecular gastronomy, Heston and Palmer Watts have set the time machine in reverse for this outing. Inspired by research into historic British gastronomy the food takes a tour of the ages with a flip side menu matching each item to its historic source and date.

 

For its historic menu, interiors at Dinner are much more contemporary, with huge windows looking into the stainless steel kitchen and out over the park, leather banked seating and dark wood offset by ivory walls hung with lamp-shades shaped like porcelain jelly moulds. But if you are seated like we were looking in on the kitchen, you’ll be too dazzled by the frenetic preparation to really notice your surroundings.

If you’ve read one thing about Dinner since its opening, it probably mentioned the ‘signature’ Meatfruit (c.1300). Encased – appropriately enough given its location – in mandarin orange jelly to look like the fruit, inside melts seductively creamy chicken liver parfait. The hint of citrus cuts the creaminess to make the concept almost necessary rather than novelty.

Alongside we opt for the Salamagundy (c. 1720), a mouthful of chicken oyster, bone marrow and horseradish cream salad. Chicken oysters are the chef’s secret-pick of the bird – apparently the most flavoursome discs of meat hidden near the thigh, although the salad part of the dish was gobbled up by the horseradish cream – healthy eating wasn’t really on the historic menu.

For the main event, Powdered Duck (c.1670, served with fennel and potato puree) was fortunately referring to the state of the spices it was coated in rather than the duck. A sweet and almost ‘taste of Christmas’ duck glazed in honey, cinnamon, nutmeg and perhaps a hint of all spice could have been cloying if it hadn’t been cut through by the sharpness of the fennel. The potato puree wasn’t helping much being more butter than potato…

Beef Royal (c.1720) was the hit of this round. Seventy-two hour cooked short rib of Angus, with smoked anchovy and onion puree and Ox tongue was a melting medley of rich flavours which left you hungry for more, even if you did have to wait another 72 hours.

Another one that was a long time in the making was the Tispy Cake (c.1850), which takes 30 minutes to prepare so we ordered with our starters. Pineapple spit roasted in a specially installed oven served with a cast-iron pot filled with gooey brioche bun. You’d think that the combination would be overwhelmingly sickly, but it was well worth the effort of its creator and is devilishly divine.

Taffty Tart (c.1660) is described as ‘rose, fennel, lemon and blackcurrant sorbet’. What appeared is one of the most precisely stacked puds I’d ever seen. Super-fine layers of sweet pastry sandwiched rose jelly, fromage blanche and topped with a crumble mixture including fennel seeds for that Heston-twist. The side of intense blackcurrant sorbet was given an extra hit from its vodka-infusion. A head-rush on a plate, and for gastro-geeks: a dish that had actually seen the inside of the Fat Duck. You can see why he’s proud of it.

For most of my fellow diners who have been waiting months to realise their reservation, he is preaching to the converted. Most had already decided they were going to love the food before they have even sat down. But for those doubters: believe the hype, Dinner is every foodie’s heaven.

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Filed under beef, Choux Boy, dessert, duck, Heston, Heston Blumenthal, Restaurant Review, restaurants