We've found a coupla nice gastropubs in Berkshire. The Quality Chop House in Clerkenwell is fantastic too - good hearty steak with some Dijon mustard and chips beautifully done (Brits are terrible at making good chips - though it might be down to the fact that I prefer the slimmer frites). Local haunt The Well will serve horseradish chantilly if you're lucky that night, although our favourite waitress isn't always there.
Discovered a new Chinatown hangout - Dragon Inn along Gerrard Street does a crispy hot fresh roast pork (although if speaking English, you have to ensure they don't mistake your order for char siu). Am boycotting 1997 (unless A insists as they have a 24hour licence) and going to Mayflower for late night suppers instead - good solid Chinese food, and friendly.
Otherwise have not been very active on the cuisine side, I'm afraid. Weekends have been filled with engagements mostly.
Have been experimenting and cooking lots though... while watching Heston Blumenthal on Full on Food . Unfortunately, the only interesting segment has been his 20 hour slow roast beef. Otherwise, snail porridge and chocolate chantilly aren't usually on the dinner table, requests notwithstanding.
Gah... I have to review more. To be updated: Sushi Hiro, Martini & Grill, Abingdon, The Chinese Experience, The Clerkenwell Room
Have been visiting lots of gastropubs recently. Especially nice to play chess in after a good dinner and a bottle. Particular recommendations:
The Well - Clerkenwell.
The Eagle - Farringdon.
The Red House - Berkshire (more romantic bistro than pub really).
Write Foliage review for mum's birthday.
The thing about small canopied doors is that it can confusingly signal two different things - discreet, or pretentious. Given that this was (as the tour guides have it) Princess Diana's favourite London restaurant (well, Kensington Palace is a stone's throw away), I still don't know which.
I was left quietly alone with my drink while waiting for A. I thought it a gallant gesture to have ushered me into the upholstered lounge downstairs immediately, instead of the impolitic bar area. Sitting facing away from the entrance, there is a huge mirror through which you can see who was coming down the steps. For a moment, I felt as if I was waiting for my lover. You always imagine every couple in Le Gavroche are having an affair, someone once commented. He walked down the stairs, I turned dramatically, wide-eyed, and stretched my arms out to welcome him... nah. A arrived, and over appertifs and canapes, I gave him his card. Here you go, happy anniversary darling... hah!
This is one of those restaurants where the lady gets the menu sans prices. How wonderfully old-fashioned! I can understand, however, how some men (and women) have found it to be disgustingly discriminatory, but I love it. Of course, I did hesitate and peer over A's menu before ordering demi homard chevronne avec ail et beurre (they described it far more poetically than my high school French, naturellement). The sommelier was, as always, friendly and helpful. A selected a bottle of Burgundy, 1997, intense flavour yet light, to go with both my lobster and his grouse.
For starters, I had chosen the legendary souffle suissesse. I love souffle, but this is something else, literally. It was an ethereal island of whipped egg and cream dancing across a lovely cheesy sauce, rather than your straightforward souffle in a ramekin dish. As someone put it, more ile flottante than souffle. I love souffle in whatever disguise, so my feelings are partial here. But, despite the wonderous start, the dish did get heavy and a little boring towards the end.
Mains. My lobster was outstandingly sweet, covered with what I think is a blend of chives, parsley and garlic. There was a hint of brandy. No surprises here. The dish was served with a lemony bearnaise sause and a side of baby potatoes and pod peas. A's grouse was by far more interesting, and he was kind enough to share a small bit of bacon with me. hmph.
One small quibble though. Don't get me wrong, I love to be fussed over, even expect it. But coddling is irritating, especially when it entails waiters blatantly clearing your dishes and grandly presenting your next course and chatting to you(!) while you are attempting intimate anniversary conversation. IMHO, service should be discreet and invisible, personal but detached. I'm sorry to say that this was one factor that spoiled the evening for me ever so slightly. It also made me wish that I had paid more attention in school during French class, and really, one shouldn't be made to feel bad when paying so much. C'est la vie.
Dessert. Ok, I mentioned my obsession with souffles previously. I'm not kidding. I love them with a passion. Being particularly inept at creating one myself, I had to flog it at the master of souffles. So of course I had to order their famed souffle aux fruits de la passion et glace ivoire. A did the same. This, I must say, was the highlight. A classic souffle, executed to perfection, with a ball of ice-cream in the middle. Hot and cold, heavy and light, white and cream. A marriage of opposites made in heaven. I was absolutely in love. I happen to think that souffles are seductively romantic. They remind you of tulle wedding dresses and white Pratesi sheets, the perfect objet de amour. mm...
You know how, in the course of a romantic dinner, there comes a point where every next dish is simply an obstacle to your pillow? My moment came right at the point when bon bons and coffee were served. This morning, I woke up to find a box of bon bons on the breakfast table. The perfect conclusion to a perfect evening. -AL
Nyonya, Notting Hill
Sushi Hiro, Ealing Common
New Cultural Revolution, Notting Hill / Angel-Islington
Am bored with Behavioural Game Theory...
Electric - review
A "nearish" place to my home, closer to Ladbroke Grove if the truth be known. From the outside, it looks rather plain - yellow lighting, wooden tables, somehow I imagine wet floors. But dare to venture into its inner sanctums, and behold leather banquettes and a chandelier. For a quickie dinner place, the menu is great, eclectic and lots of seafood! We had a bucket of moules mariniere and potted crab (ostensibly for me, but as usual A was picking - a very bad habit picked up from moi). Granted it wasn't spectacular, but then again we hadn't really given the chef much room to reveal his full potential. There's a tempting display of seafood - enough to tempt me back! The wines by the glass are generally solid. Apparently there's a private members' space upstairs, but we didn't find out. Beware though: service is slow and scatty.
Pu's Thai Brasserie - review
Literally a hole in the wall. Situated at the end of an alleyway just off Lincoln's Fields, and deliciously close to my workplace. It was summer, so they had opened all the glass doors, a step down leading out the alley. The food was generic, but service was courteous and my doggy bag was too posh! I liked the Thai fish cakes dipped in sweet chilli sauce. A nice cheapish romantic place to chill out after work.
The Abingdon - review
A wonderful afternoon with Elliot and his flatmate, Gerald (an ex-Electric fixture) - my "new" friends in Notting Hill. The transition is slow, but it is happening. Soon everyone will be in the West End!!!! Anyways, A and I decided to take a walk via Holland Park to lunch. I skipped the starter (but picked at A's fried white bait - see what I mean??), and chose the roast pork for mains. Crackling skin... mm... love crackling skin - picked Gerald's (ha! again). Dessert was a really lovely straightforward American brownie - I especially loved the packed layer of hazelnuts on top! Chocolate... mm... It was the first time I tasted a Viognier, and it was truly pleasant indeed. I'm slowly compiling all the quickie meal places in Kensington (Elliot, using Zagat is cheating). It's a really lovely place, great people, great service, great environment, good food, great wine, very cool toilets. There's a bar area with cushy sofas too. You could spend the whole afternoon there. Mm... not a bad weekend plan.
Finished another paper... cough, cough... Need to work but was side-tracked today by Ready, Steady, Cook, coughing, and Nancy Cartwright's "The Dappled World" (when I really should be reading Kant instead). Oh well. cough, cough...
Am sick. Therefore have given myself some time off to write this blog. A review of last Sunday's lunch, as promised.
A, his mum and brother, my brother and I lunched at the Putney Bridge restaurant last weekend. It was pleasant to sit overlooking Putney River, with some sun appearing (finally) and a light summer breeze. Our expectations had been tweaked up by the recent award of one Michelin Star, not to mention the provenance of its chef, Anthony Demetre. Personally, I've been carrying a disappointing memory all week with regards to the food -- pristine though it was, do not mistake me! Perhaps it wasn't a very exciting menu (but then again it was the Sunday lunch menu). Perhaps I was not in the mood for French food. Hm... Actually, it was probably, I think (this thought has just occured to me now), the fact that I ordered braised pork loin again and was comparing it to Petrus (which was quite recent). Hm, I must stop ordering the same things. But, on the brighter note, now that I've figured that one out, I feel a lot more optimistic writing about my experience at Putney Bridge.
For starters, I had mackerel tart. The fish was very well done, refreshing and simple to the palate, and served with a light tomato/herb sauce. I liked it because it was so unpretentious, a fact emphasized by the sweet "tart" (which was really layers of sweet chinese beancurd skin - tian zhu, or the like). It complemented the simple mackerel to perfection. Easily my favourite dish that day.
As said, I had braised pork loin for my main course. I don't remember very much about it, so it can't have been very exciting. I remember it being well done though, no fault to be found there. Come to think of it now, I ordered roast pork for lunch again this Sunday, when some of us met up at The Abingdon in Kensington. That one I remember, because I was savouring the crackling pork skin (and stealing everybody else's too!). Mm... must stop ordering the same thing, must stop ordering the same thing, must stop ordering the same thing...
Dessert. Ah, mm... I liked the fact that it had my favourite basic creme brulee on the menu. How far wrong can you go with creme brulee? It was a bit disturbing to discover that all my vanilla seeds had sunk to form a black layer at the bottom of my ramekin dish though...
Altogether pleasant, would be my summary. As for the reported 3 million pound refurbishment and Picassos, all I can say is that I'm glad it wasn't in my face and that I could enjoy a relaxing summer lunch with some my favourite people in the world.
I'm back! -AL
Check out Putney Bridge's cool website: http://www.putneybridgerestaurant.com/index.html