tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-362568652024-03-08T20:36:49.266+00:00All the fives...testing the senses in London's restaurantstriplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-17244021486320727832009-03-15T10:10:00.004+00:002010-01-05T09:03:29.385+00:00Taste: The Rythre Arms<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Verdana;font-size:13px;"><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In the middle of Yorkshire lurks a little pub serving generous cuts of prime beef. The Rythre Arms could be any country village free-house; kegs for tables, horse shoes on the wall and an open fire in the corner. However, as the county's foodies arrive, the locals are swept aside and everyone's chatter turns to the Rythre Monster, a 78oz main attraction.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For 20 years the Linleys have been serving the same menu. Below the headline T-Bones are a selection of rumps, sirloins and fillets served in Maid Marrion or Friar Tuck slabs from £14 to £32 (£44 for the monster). All ours were as described and to specification, medium-rare, naturally. Nobody this evening went for the Monster, A 78oz oz steak is the size of a laptop. It would've been nice to see the cuts beforehand, if only to gawk at them.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I went for the otherwise massive 'Giant T-Bone'. 42oz of phenomenal meat; An even cut of marbled sirloin on one side, tender fillet on the other and both in endless supply. I paused only once to try the potatoes, carrots and onion rings dotted around the table garnish and immediately returned to the meat - clearly no need to deviate and quality wise - best left along. </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">There are a couple of non-beef options on the menu although I can't vouch for them. A popular order is the quirky named </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">carpetbagger (£30)</span></i><span style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">; a fillet stuffed with tiger prawns or king scallops and smothered in a rich tomato and tarragon sauce. A little rich maybe, perhaps go for the £9 surf-n-turf seafood enhancement to any steak if you're into that kind of thing.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Owner and master butcher Eric Linley clearly needs no approval and word of mouth has people driving across two counties for a place at one of the two nightly sittings. Our two hour round trip featured my apprehensive stomach grumbling all the way there and on cloud 9 for the return in a way that only the best T-Bone I've ever had can accomplish.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style=" ;font-family:Tahoma;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:Trebuchet;"></span></span></p><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The Rythre Arms</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); "><span style=" ;font-family:Arial;"><div class="addr adr" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span dir="ltr"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Main St</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span dir="ltr"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ryther, Tadcaster,</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span dir="ltr"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">North Yorkshire,</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span dir="ltr"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">LS24 9EE (</span></span><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Ryther+Village,+Near+Tadcaster,+North+Yorkshire,+LS24+9EE&ie=UTF8&s=AARTsJo7gP3Ji9T8d5d8IzV_xgEexW0NzA&ei=isTnSbKnNI302gLEoPDrDw&cd=1&cid=53846543,-1161877,2028435101481986391&li=lmd&ll=53.854602,-1.16189&spn=0.017871,0.055275&z=14&iwloc=A"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">map</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></span></div></div><div class="phone" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="phone" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; "><a href="http://www.rythrearms.co.uk/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">www.rythrearms.co.uk</span></span></a></div></span></span></div></span><p></p>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-11687641946367805452008-11-17T09:15:00.002+00:002010-01-05T09:06:38.194+00:00Taste: River Cafe review<div>River Cafe is not an ideal place to approach from the tube on a blustery November evening. From Hammersmith station go south across the roundabout, under the A4, round the back of the Apollo and through a couple of estates. From there through a gap in the fence to the river, across a patch of deserted building site and finally along an eerie stretch of waterside path where a couple of dark silhouettes will have you rehearsing that talk-them-down speech we've all prepared for that moment (touch wood) when mugged. Mine begins something like "yes, absolutely here's my wallet - but first may I keep that photo of my daughter, I wish I'd taken more when she was alive... have children, do you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Across Richard Rogers' tidy courtyard, into the restaurant and that's easily forgotten. A welcoming party unwraps our coats and we're ushered over to a modern attractive bar where blazered professionals chat 'shop' and martinis promptly arrive.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chatter flows through from the dining area; a large, attractive, clearly architecturally considered space. A polished and cake-laden service bar runs the length of the room on one side from an open kitchen at the end. Every other square inch of floor space is tessellated with diners, between who wait staff in crisp pinstripe shirts and clean aprons synchronise their darts and nips.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ours waiter is confident, personable and clearly ofay with the melee of seating. Zipping ahead he leads us across to the far side of the room to a table on the edge of the throng and at the mouth of the kitchen's show-piece, a beautiful wood-fired dome oven.</div><div><br /></div><div>The ever changing Italian, traditionally coursed menu is all literally mouth watering. Clearly rendered physically choice-less the water suggested a current one-off, Gnuddi (River Cafe's own spinach gnochi), served simply with their currently limited batch of decade-ish old balsamic and olive oil. It hit a light heavenly spot I wasn't familiar with. A taste I will never forget and probably never find again. Scallops, too, were served very simply. Large, perfectly cooked and on a par with my #1 for seafood: the company shed.</div><div><br /></div><div>For mains, a friar tuck sized veal shin, on the bone with canellini bean and Swiss chard was another first, superbly textured somewhere between great lamb and fantastic steak. Sea bass fillet baked in a bag with porcini, thyme and Vermouth, with spinach was another delivery of balanced taste and perfectly prepared ingredients.</div><div><br /></div><div>By the end of an Almond Tart with Strawberries and Grappa Pannacotta we were blissfully weak at the knees.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sure, the logo is appalling and barely better is the projection-clock dominating the room, but these strands of hair aside and River Cafe is in my experience the finest Italian restaurant in the country. We'll be back in spring when the River Cafe spills out onto Rogers' tidy courtyard.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">River Cafe</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thames Wharf</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Rainville Road</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">London, W6 9HA (</span><a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=W6+9HA&sll=53.800651,-4.064941&sspn=9.895931,28.300781&ie=UTF8&ll=51.484376,-0.223331&spn=0.010182,0.027637&z=15&iwloc=addr"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">map</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">+44 (0)20 7386 4200</span></span></div><div><br /></div>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-33547893514502878652008-08-08T14:23:00.003+01:002010-01-05T09:11:08.305+00:00Taste: cha cha moon<span style="font-family:georgia;">Filling a space that used to be a nightclub (or was it a couple shops?), Alan Yau has snuck his latest restaurant into a very tidy spot on Ganton St which opens onto the recently worthwhile Kingly Square. Now that the awful umbarella-awnings have been lifted away, Cha Cha Moon offers accessible, asian, al-fresco dining all but out of reach in this part of town unless you’ve pink pounds to spend.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">With a simple 3-fold menu more akin to Wagamama than <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/02/taste-yauatcha.html">Yauatcha</a>, cuisine is pan-asian (mayte!) with Hong Kong style influences. Three main types of dish are offered: soup-noodle, stir-fry and Lao Mian (on flat, stocky noodles with a side-soup). As an opening-week offer that was never cancelled all dishes are £3.50 and in the medium-small bracket. At this price it’s worth skipping the starters and going for 2 mains. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Lao Mian crispy duck, jasmine tea soaked chicken and Singapore noodles are high achievers in this class of uncomplicated box-ticking food. The huge open-plan kitchen is churning out plate after plate of pitch perfect dishes to the masses. An army of wait staff, in “have you been to the moon” t-shirts all working a specific function, buzz along precision-packed shared trestles. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Don’t expect to feel special. Once the “have you been here before” script is over there’s no love lost by the unimpressed servers. Food is brought over when it’s ready and sometimes afterwards. In earlier visits at least one plate arrived late and lukewarm but that has recently improved.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Cha Cha Moon is solid. Design, ambiance, presentation are all straight from the Yao playbook, managing an air of exclusivity despite canteen-esque atmosphere – and reality. Unfortunately the word has spread beyond the congregation and evening queues (no booking allowed) often wriggle, back out the front door. At least the display of cookery precision on the other side of the blue glass wall provides interim entertainment.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Cha Cha Moon</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">15-21 Ganton St</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Soho, London</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">W1F 9BN (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=W1F+9BN&sll=53.800651,-4.064941&sspn=19.143671,57.128906&ie=UTF8&z=16&g=W1F+9BN&iwloc=addr">map</a>)</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">+44 (0) 20 7297 9800 </span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-2069363240850720612008-07-20T09:48:00.043+01:002008-11-09T11:02:41.525+00:00Taste: A touch of NovelliSuper-chef Jean-Christophe Novelli is not afraid of getting his name around. A nudge of Floyd, a sprinkling of stars & rosettes and a central London "empire" leave a calendar full of Hell's Kitchen, The Apprentice, Richard & Judy, Hello Magazine, MTV Cribs and so on. Fortunately for those amongst us who like a chef to stir soup he's opening a chain of Gastropubs around the country starting with The French Horn in Steppingly and here, attached to the The White Horse Pub in Harpenden.<br /><br />Branded A Touch of Novelli this converted barn is about as subtle in presentation as it is in name.You're hardly going to eat here without knowing who owns the place, the super-chef continuum has permeated through. There he is, pondering back at you from the restaurant's card, his lead-cast hand print hanging from the wall.<br /><br />The rest of this barn-conversion has been done in good taste, modern, clean, elegant with a matching open kitchen along one side. Perhaps it's a little too IKEA - but even Prouvé would struggle to divert one's eye from the frosted glass scrawled with, yes, "Novelli" at one end of the 60 covers space.<br /><br />30 miles north of London and prices are slightly more affordable at £8 starters and £15 mains. Of course we've been slapped with some off-plan bread before the menus have been opened, at least it has been quaintly baked and presented in a terracotta pot, still warm.<br /><br />Starters include Soft boiled duck egg, Bayonne ham, marinated globe artichokes, tapenade toast and Bressola of Aylesbury duck breast with horseradish panna cotta, beetroot and macadamia nut dressing to start. Both refreshingly not shy of their respective headliners and realised in the unique way so expected of Michelin star caliber. The horseradish, beet and nut medley working enchantingly well together.<br /><br />Pan fried breasts of pigeon with foie gras tortellini and minestrone broth showed the bird in a new light. Impossible to replicate ticking one box, fois gras the other and a perfect balance of succulence the third. For minimum surprise, Sirloin steak with hand cut chips was prepared only one way, medium-rare - and that's absolutely super. Surprisingly the beef source isn't mentioned - oh it's 'locally sourced' - organic too? must be fine.<br /><br />Desserts, well, bad options maybe. Pizzazz lacking sorbet (were we expecting anything else?) and a way belowzero peach-melba lacking the kiss of life. Lesson learned - if only the Jack in the Box award winner was on the menu.<br /><br />More of a daub than a touch, Novelli's is far from subtle. Definitely not a gastropub and hardly somewhere you'll be staying long past the last mouthful. Each mouthful, however, means none of this matters. This is super-chef Novelli delivering the goods.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">A Touch of Novelli</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">The White Horse</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Harpenden</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Hertfordshire</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">AL5 2JP (</span><a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=AL5+2JP&sll=53.800651,-4.064941&sspn=19.143671,57.128906&ie=UTF8&z=16&g=AL5+2JP&iwloc=addr">map</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">+44 (0) 1582 469290</span><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" href="http://www.atouchofnovelli.com/">http://www.atouchofnovelli.com/</a></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-24377995609539380472008-01-15T09:01:00.001+00:002010-01-05T09:17:23.154+00:00Taste: Haozhan ReviewEvery other review of a restaurant in Chinatown includes an msg soaked starter reminiscing about Gerrard Street's good old times. Food was terrible, service non existent and any complaints answered with five thunderbolts. Not too sure about the last one but over the past few years I've definitely eaten in a few hum dingers in London's China epicenter.<br /><br />Not much has changed really. Just our budgets. A couple quid extra has opened the door to the chinese powerhouses of the Golden Palace and Feng Shui Inn. Now though, for a few more pennies there's a 'modern oriental' kid on the block.<br /><br />Flashing a contemporary feel, Haozhan has been opened with the help from a former chef at Hakkasan. As you'd expect he's brought a keen attention to detail and presentation and influences from Japan, Malaysia and Thailand.<br />This being lunch, delicately grilled and herbed gyoza-style dumplings and light duck spring roll (served in a glass) made tasty light starters. Onto a clean, meaty <span style="font-style: italic;">champagne cod</span>, soft and succulet <span style="font-style: italic;">jasmine ribs</span> and a waiter recommended dish - <span style="font-style: italic;">beef in red wine</span> served in a crispy noodle nest: Succulent beyond imagination and a taste not experienced before. Seeing one served elsewhere we praised ourselves for ordering a <span style="font-style: italic;">cream of pumpkin </span>desert despite being far more satisfied than expected. It almost crept up - but everything was welll timed, well balanced and, well, delicious.<br /><br />Haozhan is different. They've borrowed a couple ideas from the likes of Yuatcha, Nobu and Hakkasan and brought the experience down a level without compromising on the senses (or the wallet). It's a bit cheeky to go with such a homophonic name and, mate, the menu has pictures... but that aside and here is a welcome addition for when beef ho fun and char siu isn't quite enough.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Haozhan</span><br /><a href="http://www.haozhan.co.uk/">http://www.haozhan.co.uk</a><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;"><span class="textbold">8 Gerrard Street<br />London<br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:-1;">W1D 5PJ</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;"> (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=W1D+5PJ&ie=UTF8&ll=51.512041,-0.130634&spn=0.009562,0.012424&z=16&iwloc=addr">map</a>)<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;">+44 (0) <span class="textbold">20 7434 3838</span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-82158144669570563662007-12-24T10:00:00.000+00:002008-01-29T23:02:35.442+00:00Taste: The Empress of India Review<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">High-rises, gangs, prams, Olympics and best-of-the-worst awards come, go and hackney strides on. <st1:placename st="on">Victoria</st1:placename> <st1:placename st="on">Park</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Village</st1:placetype> has barely batted an eyelid, nestled safety and uninterrupted in the arms of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Britain</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s oldest public park. This one and a half stretch of amenities and boutiques stands proud and unmoved like a portly war veteran – who’s puffed out chest is the grand red awning of the Empress of India.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p>As the menu-prologue is eager to point out, the current incarnation of this elegant British gastropub is the latest in a line of rebirths. At present it features a spick and span layout with grand well-stocked bar presiding over one side. A separately themed dining area to the other half is decorated with a mosaic floor and exotic murals depicting elephants, palaces and turbans</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p>Ambiance here is calm, organised, methodical (not particularly busy on this night). The 15 or so tables are served by two who are obviously experienced and comfortable with the strong menu. A regularly updated handful or so dishes per course are available at around £6/starter and £13/main.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p>Full flavoured Fois Gras parfait with even fuller port plums joined forces in a rich, delicious combination of my preferred starting staple. The hot smoked salmon, avocado mousse and Bloody Mary sauce was more adventurous, lacking in exhilaration but no less tasty. For mains, I went for the special; Rare short horn lamb on a bed of spinach, potato and delicate goats cheese. Special indeed, more succulent than any lamb I’ve ever tasted. I honestly hummed every mouthful in a one-man throng of euphoria.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">From Tom and Ed Martin (including The Gun in Docklands) The Empress isn’t cut from the same cloth as the other gastropubs around town. It is, as the best ones should be, a refined collection of finest quality produce cooked well with culinary genius (in this case, Tim Wilson, former chef at the Ivy). Unlike the others it has less of a traditional hectic feel, more sedate, solid, timeless – like the proud <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">village</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename st="on">Victoria Park</st1:placename></st1:place> surrounding it.<o:p></o:p><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">I’ll be going back again.<o:p></o:p></span></p><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">The Empress of India</span><br /><a href="http://www.theempressofindia.com/">http://www.theempressofindia.com</a><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span class="textbold">130 Lauriston Road<br />Victoria Park<br />London<br />E9 7LH</span> (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=E9+7LH&ie=UTF8&ll=51.53702,-0.044889&spn=0.011198,0.033817&z=16&iwloc=addr&om=0">map</a>)<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >+44 (0) <span class="textbold">208 533 5123</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><br /></span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-37973022552227471332007-12-18T08:42:00.000+00:002008-01-29T22:59:18.915+00:00Taste: Belgo ReviewThe aptly named "Centraal" branch of Belgo's Belgium Restaurant and Bierodrome is less Belgian and more Laserquest. Grey, mesh and metal greet you once inside along with a steely stare-down from the front desk.<br /><br />Maybe because of it's popularity with tourists, maybe because it's christmas or maybe because the staff are simply too important we're instantly told all the party must be present, we must line up in front of the desk and must await walkie-talkie confirmation from a relay of ushers if we've got any chance of sitting at a table. Forget Laserquest, it's more like a leg of the Crystal Maze.<br /><br />Drill passed, down a set of stairs covered in black and yellow warning tape through another couple of holding areas and we're inside a bustling, noisy underground canteen. Thanks probably to places like <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/04/taste-dove.html">the Dove</a>, this is a couple countries away from the cosy, inviting experience I was expecting. Here is a themed restaurant with an attitiude. Wait staff lumber around pacing between the two main dining ares at each of a vast, angry kitchen. Plates are being produced on-mass by teams of cooks, one laying out steaks, one on sauce and the other with chips. A couple of diners have become enthralled on their way to the bathrooms and stare in bewilderment.<br /><br />The broadsheet menu, an ugly collection of boxes accentuates the large collection of beers on offer. I went for a Slag Pilsner and a strong, golden Duvel. Both demonstrating the complexities and variation of good beer production. Around the table are a collection of nods in agreement.<br /><br />Food. Average. Forgettable. The signature dish, a kilo pot of mussels provencale (the other option was mariniere but white wine & beer?) was not sandy, not small but was too bland. The others all chose steak to great satisfaction but when you're paying £20+ a cut it's hard to get them wrong.<br /><br />It's not a bad place and obviously very popular. It should have been about the beer and the food but instead we received a mouthful of the rest.triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-27813765084384284852007-12-04T09:05:00.002+00:002009-01-28T10:46:01.322+00:00Taste: Sake no Hana ReviewDisguised as an office building - Sake no Hana blends only too well into the Economist's Plaza on St James' street. A plaque by the menacing automatic door is the only giveaway before it slides open. A couple of bemused doormen look out - who I'm sure will get used to welcoming lost diners.<br /><br />Inside is an office building's foyer. They've either painfully replicated the entrance to a Wall St bank in black marble or just left the old building as it was. This being Alan Yau and architect Kengo Koma the latter is a dead cert but it really just feels like the bank. Nothing like the decadence of <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/05/taste-latelier-de-jol-robuchon.html">L'Atelier</a>. Alright, I know, hanging out here isn't scheduled, so up a dark, thin escalator to the 1st floor restaurant.<br /><br />Somehow cater-cornered and not in a great way the restaurant is a mix of standard tables and sunken no-shoes Izakaya seating. Attractive bleached-wood skeletal pyramids echo the simplicity of the room which has a dab of sober beige, a splash of Dojo and the smell of money. Wait staff tiptoe around sinking awkwardly to their knees when serving, a feat not easily achieved by the burly sake sommelier balancing a £200 bottle with a grimace (they do serve 180ml taster carafes from £12).<br /><br />The menu, traditional Japanese in summary; salad, tempura, marinated then fried dishes, rice and desert. Sushi and sashimi are not available, the sushi-bar downstairs is not yet complete although the glamorous table of soap stars behind are braying over a round of nigiri.<br /><br />Over the next 90 minutes the courses roll (or rather loll - first week teething is passable) A minute jar or King Crab salad in a Japanese plum jelly is a silky mouthful of sweet flavors - shame there's only two spoon's and a tinkles-worth. Mixed tempura, with a good but not Tokugawa standard batter. Leaf wrapped oblongs of Chilean sea bass with giant soy beans and button mushrooms in an superbly overwhelming satay-notes sauce and <em>korokke</em> a painfully rendered yet too fussy beef, potato croquette. For staples we went for sticky rice and Udon noodles, both pedigree versions of their mainstream counterparts.<br /><br />Almost all flavours were choreographed delights, fantastic, orchestraic but over far too soon. The better dishes were the more elaborate but they could fit on a 50 pence piece (whilst costing a fistful of golden coins). After 8 dishes and an onslaught of intriguing tastes we were left not quite satisfied - with a feeling more like eating a selection of Belgian chocolates.<br /><br />Sake no Hana is the latest restaurant from Alan Yau of Hakkasan and <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/02/taste-yauatcha.html">Yauatcha </a>fame. Sure it will get a third Michelin Star but in comparison I'm not so convinced. Maybe that will change when the new-wood smell calms down and the wait staff understand the dishes (and their sizes) better. I've a feeling though that for me there won't be a second time - fine Japanese cuisine exists in just one country.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Sake no Hana</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">23 St James's Street</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">London</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">SW1A 1HA (</span><a style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=SW1A+1HA&ie=UTF8&z=16&iwloc=addr&om=1">map</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">020 7925 8988 </span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-65421350658963736792007-11-10T08:12:00.000+00:002008-01-29T22:59:42.201+00:00Taste: The Scolt Head Review<p class="MsoNormal">It had to happen - all across <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">London</st1:city></st1:place> common boozers are scrubbing up the floorboards, pulling down the TVs and ordering a crate of duralex. Whilst not a new prospect the last couple years have seen a surge in the gentrified Gastropub and everybody wants a piece of the gourmet pie.<br /><br />Fortunately, Dalston's Scolt Head has not followed the "get gastro in 21 days" guide and with expertise from the Fox and <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Great Queen Street</st1:address></st1:street> has recently re-opened under new management. Almost stranded between Islington and London Fields it’s a solid neighborhood building - fronted by a large bar, trademark low lighting, plenty of exposed wood and an intriguing collection of heat & pressure dials. The "library" of Penguin books is really just a row above the fireplace but add a point for effort.<br /><br />All the real regulars have been shuffled away into a large romper-room to the back left of the bar. With a stage for live music, pool, darts, boxed games and a giant screen they don’t seem to mind and it’s soon busy. Smartly zoned to the right is an exemplary rustic dining area. Bread is served with balsamic, salt’s in an open dish and the menu printed on A4 with a handful of choices. All good so far.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>We went for a chorizo salad - the best I’ve had since the sandwiches in Borough Market; hearty, creamy meal-in-a-bowl of onion soup and a plate of huge razor clams in a garlic and herb dressing. All three (of the four to choose from) were incredible. To follow we all opted for <span class="menutitle">Boeuf Bourguignon on mash, a sultry rich stew with a slightly overwhelming cameo of smoked bacon barging in on the senses. Shame.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="menutitle"><o:p></o:p>That must be a one off – the starters we’re too far into the atmosphere to pull the parachute. Halfway through not just a Lemon Posset but a Scolt Head Lemon Posset and all is forgiven.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="menutitle"><o:p></o:p>The Scolt head might as well be on it’s Norfolk Coast namesake as far as the magnetic field around zone one is concerned. That just means that for people like me who live a brisk walk away there’ll be a table on Friday without having to book ahead, a pint on the bar within 10 seconds and a selection of honest, well cooked food – all for the price of supper in a good pub... as it should be.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >The Scolt Head<br />107a Culford Rd<br />N1 4HT (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=N1+4HT&ie=UTF8&ll=51.543733,-0.081582&spn=0.011703,0.033817&z=16&iwloc=addr&om=1">map</a>)<br />Dalston<br />020 7254 3965</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><a href="http://www.thescolthead.co.uk/">http://www.thescolthead.co.uk</a><br /></span></p>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-91096750462236465682007-10-19T19:49:00.000+01:002007-12-10T00:03:27.123+00:00Taste: The EastonExmouth Market is an easily overlooked destination visited mostly by people who haven't succumbed to the Angel and Old Street heavyweights, both a respective spit and stone's throw away. Nestled against the Rosebery rat-race highway there's something delicate and appealing about the short leafy lane of one-off shops and bar/restaurants, especially on a rainy evening when the fairy lights beacon safe refuge.<br /><br />The more local types might even venture a little deeper into the undergrowth, and cautios of the brutish Mount Pleasant lurking nearby slip north up to The Easton, one of the earlier Pubs in London to assume Gastropub status. In established tradition the furniture is rustic, ambiance upbeat and menu simply stated on a chalkboard above the long bar.<br /><br />I've lunched here a number of times - including an unforgettable beef Sunday roast of Friar Tuck proportions. Each of the three veg and two potatoes ensembling in a way only mothers can otherwise achieve. Today we went for honey glazed Pork chop with Patatas Bravas - the glaze complemented one of the most succulent chops I've ever tasted (the potatoes were okay but I'd have preferred crisper roasts); Pumpkin Pie, visually impressive and an epicurean delight for the pumpkin-lover; and a hearty seafood risotto cooked on the good side of perfect.<br /><br />I've only been here during the day and cannot vouch for either side of the "get out we're closing" debate in current circulation. To me the Easton is one of a handful gastro-staples, delivering the goods every time.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >The Easton<br />22 Easton Street,<br />London,<br />WC1X 0DS<br /><span class="vnTextSpan">020 7278 7609</span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-50121001641223581692007-10-14T09:25:00.000+01:002007-11-18T22:01:15.679+00:00Taste: Brunch at Smiths of SmithfieldOn the weekend virtually all of London between Farringdon and Liverpool Street resuscitates after a hard week playing around with truckloads of cash. There's a strange emptiness even around residential areas, Barbican and Smithfields both void of excitement.<br /><br />Smiths of Smithfield on a weekend morning is a relative hive of activity - full of screaming kids, hungover young professionals and disillusioned tourists happy to see somewhere lively. It's the wrong kind of lively though, like a mash up of evening bar and breakfast spot (which it effectively is). The aforementioned people are all over the place, sat around awkwardly round tables which don't lend a hand to the hectic visuals, being tended by what feels like a hundred wait staff.<br /><br />Our waitress was slightly too busy to actually take our order and when we waivered on which smoothie dashed off unnannounced. We ordered a medium Smith's breakfast (handily numbered from 1-something in order of size) The sausage, bacon beans etc were of okay quality and quantity although nothing special. Totally un-special however were the poached eggs - which had been hard boiled. The reply from the waitress was farcical "you asked for poached eggs and they are poached eggs" but before I had chance to impart a piece of my mind she was gone again - returning a few minutes later with a couple of correctly cooked eggs.<br /><br />Smiths has it all as an uber-popular evening bar and restaurant but this doesn't translate into a breakfast location. I prefer some peace with my eggs and paper.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Smiths of Smithfield<br />67-77 Charterhouse Street<br />EC1M 6HJ<br />Farringdon</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">020 7251 7950</span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-52955098324346433712007-08-10T08:57:00.000+01:002007-11-18T22:03:10.844+00:00Taste: Wild HoneyA little way into Mayfair, In what used to be the Drones Members Club, Wild Honey has just opened. Its the next restaurant from Will Smith and Anthony Demetre, who must be busting for more after the successes of Arbutus. They've slotted into the existing location with minimal fuss around the elegant throwback ambiance, dark oak panels and intimidatingly long bar dominating the entranceway (a good choice for a couple). Happily they've taken away the over sized mobile-orrery light fittings that made the Drone's club feel like a grown-up's cot. The dining room is well tended by French accents and has an understated air, not too business-bland.<br /><br />The lunch menu is printed on a single sheet of A4 and I must admit to finding this far more palatable than a book - having only a handful of options inspires confidence in their abilities (greasy spoons aside). Printed on another sheet is the wine list. Like Arbutus, almost all choices are served by the 250ml carafe, most lurking around the £10-£15 mark. For sure its an apparent-value approach but one that works "would you like to try a different one?" we're asked as the first slips away - "most guests do".<br /><br />Set lunch at £15.50 is not to be sniffed at. There wouldn't be time anyway as the top-veal arrives pronto and is consumed almost as quickly - delicious. Its followed by another carafe (Reisling this time) and then onto well presented beef rib. Perhaps it's a little on the fleshy side - some thing I'm quite partial to as a northerner.<br /><br />Wild Honey is a business lunch venue that's not too heavy on the business and all about the lunch. A welcome addition to the circuit and looking forwards to trying out the evening menu.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Wild Honey<br />12 St George St<br />W1S 2FB<br />Mayfair<br />020 7758 9160<br /><a href="http://www.wildhoneyrestaurant.co.uk/">http://www.wildhoneyrestaurant.co.uk/</a><br /></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-11344201569772037442007-06-30T09:17:00.000+01:002007-11-18T21:24:29.982+00:00Taste: Great Queen Street<p class="MsoNormal">Unbranded, unfussy, uncomplicated – <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Great Queen Street</st1:address></st1:street> is the thoroughbred Gastropub on the far side of <st1:place st="on">Covent Garden</st1:place>. Of Arabian proportions, <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Great Queen Street</st1:address></st1:street> has been studded by the <i style="">Anchor and Hope</i> and let run with staff from the <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/10/easton.html"><st1:city st="on">Easton</st1:city></a> and <st1:place style="font-style: italic;" st="on"><st1:city st="on">St John</st1:city></st1:place>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Between undecorated blood red walls diners sit at rustic tables, on simple chairs with standard, uniform tableware. Towards the back of the room a long bar fronts onto the kitchen where I can only imagine chefs are preparing food with one of five utensils and serving into one of three bowl types.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I'm not sure what the textbook Gastropub description is. For sure the Wikipedia page must include <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Great Queen Street</st1:address></st1:street>. Menus are presented on a single sheet of A4 with 15 choices arranged by price. Paralleled with the surrounding simplicity they're all directly stated traditional English; <i style="">game terrine</i>, <i style="">steak pie</i> (for two, £30), <i style="">rabbit stew…</i> etc. We opt for a meat double bill with steak tartae to start and lamb shoulder as a main. Our waiter suggests that there are three surplus shanks in the kitchen available as a one-off for only a few pounds more (£28). We nod emphatically. Actually, I can recall a couple of times before when this has similarly happened in the Anchor – an effective marketing strategy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The tartae was moderate (bland – go for the terrine instead) but the shanks divine. The meat was not just falling off the bone but diving off into the pool of superb, rich oily soup waiting for a knob of bread to soak it up. Served with a healthy bowl of potato gratin this was far more than enough for two and we had to call in for air support before ordering desert. The caramel crème is unmissable.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I heard earlier that in the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">UK</st1:place></st1:country-region> we spend £8b/year in 27,000 restaurants. Good hearty English fayre has to be the most rewarding and patriotic spending of those pennies although I'm torn. I'm sure mothers around the country can do better - mine certainly can. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Great <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Queen Street</st1:address></st1:street> is a welcome addition to the gastro-offering around <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">London</st1:place></st1:city>. It represents all the good things about English pub food with all the bad things taken out and intentionally un-replaced. There’s a premium to pay and one must wonder why… but not for long before returning for more.<o:p></o:p><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">32 Great Queen St</st1:address></st1:street><br />WC2B 5AA<br /><st1:place st="on">Covent Garden</st1:place><br />020 7242 0622</span></p>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-67487171393923521372007-06-20T09:18:00.000+01:002007-07-04T15:24:55.412+01:00Taste: Hotel Du Cap, Eden Roc<p class="MsoNormal">One bay east from <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Cannes</st1:city></st1:place>, Juan Les Pins poses a more local, sedate rendition of its bolshy neighbour. The town is not without a string of Dior and Villebrequin boutiques and firmly on the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Côte d'Azur</st1:place></st1:country-region> with an extensive harbour sheltering an armada of modest cruisers. We’re skirting around all this though and heading to the rocky outcrop on the bay’s far side. Here rests the Bond-esque <i style="">Cap D’Antibes</i> – hotel to the rich and beyond famous (Tom Cruise is a current guest) where a week's stay could buy a small house in <st1:place st="on">Salford</st1:place>. <i style="">Eden Roc</i>, set into the coastline below the hotel, presents a jaw dropping venue. From here earth sea and sky seem as if physically arranged for maximum wow.<br /><o:p></o:p><br />Wait staff in pure white skirt across the boardwalk open-air balcony glancing silent instructions to each other. The warm sun cast an increasingly orange glow over the impeccably formal tables, deep blue sea and dazzling surrounds. It could be a painstakingly rendered CGI scene – crisp lines, all straight edges.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Menus are presented bound in white leather and detailed with gold leaf… only gentlemen have prices. The wine list looks like a wedding album and is almost as weighty (and intimidating). I opt for a Premier Cru Sancerre without daring discussion with the sommelier. I need more time with the food, genuinely stuck for choice between, well, every dish on offer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I choose my luxury boulder, a terrine of fois gras which is as perfect as any I've had before and served uniquely with French toast. Around the table we're tucking (in the most refined way) into king prawns with mango dressing, truffle & chanterelle ravioli and wild asparagus – all moderately presented. Unfortunately it’s over far too quickly but that gives time to soak in the ambiance. Arriving earlier there were only guests at one or two other tables, now every place is occupied, chinks and chatter float up into the fresh air backed by the muted waves beating against the rocks below.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a complete re-dress of the tableware an oversize chef with a handlebar moustache coving 40% of his smug face wheels over a grill and heats a knob of herbed butter in a shallow Crueset pan. This is for the steak Diane, cooked in simple perfection as we beam back at him enticed (No wonder he looks smug – its just a slice of steak). Whilst distracted the waiters have snuck in the other dishes and mine – Seabass Provoncale style, is again amongst the best I've had. This is in the rare professionally-fussy category of restaurants where watchful waiters attend silently; a dropped fork will not touch the floor before being replaced.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">By now the sun has dipped behind the hill. Across the bay Juan Les Pins sparkles. Over the balcony, 50 feet below as the tide-less Mediterranean sloshes, a pair of black-suited men help a couple into their tender to return to their huge cruiser anchored 100 meters away. Just behind lurks the luxury ice-breaker belonging to the money-drenched Packer family who're here for a €6m wedding the next day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Deserts, coffee and petit fours follow and before long the outside world has paled into insignificance. Eden-roc is a restaurant where staggering food is only the start and the rest will leave you legless. It’s difficult to imagine this being normality and in a way I’m happy to keep it like that. So good we returned for lunch two days later. If only we had a yacht to float out to instead of a cab ride back to the now far less appealing Croissette.</p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="" lang="DA">Hotel du Cap Eden Roc,</span><br />Boulevard Kennedy,<br />B.P. n°29,<br />06601 Cap d'Antibes,<br /><st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Cedex</st1:city>, <st1:country-region st="on">France</st1:country-region></st1:place></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.edenroc-hotel.fr/">http://www.edenroc-hotel.fr/</a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><table style="height: 100px;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/624886829/in/set-72157600488609406/"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1248/624886829_0d27024811.jpg?v=0" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/625622636/in/set-72157600488609406/"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1029/625622636_54eadff25b.jpg?v=0" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/624766315/in/set-72157600488609406/"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1269/624766315_584fbb7254.jpg?v=0" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><br /></tr></tbody></table></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-6540095014673849522007-05-30T09:11:00.000+01:002007-06-01T22:51:19.892+01:00Taste: Bam-bouCharlotte Street is a little-mentioned nucleus of restaurants in the awkward corner of central London trapped between studentville Goodge and tourist hell Oxford Street. Its pleasurable tree-lined vista offering a somewhat European aftertaste to a sunny day, far less of a mouthful than the pavement bars coughed up along Frith and Greek.<br /><br />At the southern end of Charlotte Street stands Bam-bou, an almost member's only arrangement of restaurant, small private function-rooms and dark moody top floor bar. I've been here in the latter two capacities and it was well geared to such pursuits. Now I would see if they've managed to squeeze a worth-while restaurant into the labyrinth of small oriental wood and cast-iron furnished rooms.<br /><br />The main restaurant room is small, 15 tables or so. Its understated, hinting towards Chinese with a detail here or there. Simple western Chinese is the theme and the uncomplicated menu is neither long or fussy with 10-15 choices each for starters and mains. To the bottom of the list is a note indicating that all dishes are intended to share, one wonders why that needed stating. Share we did (as with most Asian meals) and tucked into ginger squid, sticky Hanoi Style ribs, japanese dumplings and a couple of token dim-sum plates, shrimp har gau and sweet potato croquettes. Nobody else wanted to go for Tamarind glazed frogs legs, perhaps they'd have added an elevation from what was a satisfying but far from ground breaking collection. The mains were a little less formulaic with correctly seared scallops, tender beef with kow choi & shaoshing (who?) and a marvelous preparation of sea bass not far from <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/02/taste-cocoon.html">Cocoon's</a> earthquake inducing equivalent. Ordering rice was confusing and we ended up with one big bowl and a handful of smaller ones of steamed rice and another few tiny dishes of coconut rice. Restaurants really need to just put a per-person price then just keep it coming, heck, rice is literally cheap as chips.<br /><br />Bam-bou has an intimate feel, service is appropriate, attentive and atmosphere is swanky upper echelon. I would first recommend coming here for the other functions with supper a close runner up. As part of Caprice Holdings (which includes The Ivy and J Sheekey) it's not for the shy wallet but will top up the kudos card.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Bam-Bou<br />1 Percy Street<br />London, W1T 1DB (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&amp;amp;q=W1T+1DB&ie=UTF8&z=16&iwloc=addr&om=1">map</a>)<br />+44 (20) 7323 9130<br /><a href="http://www.bam-bou.co.uk/">http://www.bam-bou.co.uk/</a></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-53029112460546322022007-05-04T18:31:00.000+01:002007-05-09T09:13:23.305+01:00Taste: The IvyWhen I'm rich and retired I plan to come to the Ivy for lunch every week. I'll have the same courses each time and a glass of my favorite in between pages of the racing post. How this plan formed, I've no idea - having never eaten here, read a single review or know anybody who's been.<br /><br />Well lunchtime today my time had finally come to visit the elegant dining institution. The Ivy resides as it has since 1917 on the little trodden corner of West and Litchfield street. Understated and elegant, inwardly pristine stained glass windows along both streets lend a bright and sheltered dining room. Unclouded decadence hangs in the air as well-tailored waiters nod and oblige their way around the traditional and impeccable surrounds.<br /><br />The menu is english, easy-read and encouraging. I opted for white asparagus with prosciutto and melted Dolcelatte followed by a hearty and mouth watering self-standing cottage pie topped with formidably layered semi-mashed potato. I wish I'd room left for the 2-person Baked Alaska which I'm told is only made properly in a handful of places in the world.<br /><br />My dining partner tells me that a good restaurant serves warm bread and room temperature butter. I'm more impressed with the food - ha. I'll be having both weekly here in the Ivy when I'm rich and retired.<br /><p style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;">The Ivy<br />1-5 West Street<br />London<br />WC2H 9NQ (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&amp;amp;amp;q=WC2H+9NQ&ie=UTF8&ll=51.515313,-0.128231&spn=0.010202,0.027552&amp;amp;amp;z=15&iwloc=addr&om=0">map</a>)<br /></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;">Tel: +44 (0)20 7836 4751</span></p>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-78914095626608359242007-05-04T10:15:00.000+01:002007-05-08T23:09:35.959+01:00Taste: L'Atelier de Joël RobuchonWest Street, just off Cambridge Circus is one of those central London roads not often visited without purpose. On this evening, however, our purposely empty stomachs led the beat of hunger as we marched towards L'Atelier. Actually, we were running late and almost at canter, even though the nasally French Maitre d had already replied on the phone "don't worry, we are running late too!"<br /><br />Cool, black, polished; L'Atelier is a recent £5M addition to Joel Robuchon's six Michelin Star line-up and feels from the black and red entrance area like a sultry Yakuza Den or swanky strip club. We're wafted through a grand pair of glass doors into a slim space countered with stools along the entirety of one side, a handful or less of 4 seater tables stand outweighed between the bar and a living wall of green foliage.<br /><br />Sitting at the high-backed black bar we're served entirely from the opposite side by a gangly French waiter. He's unable to make eye contact and talk at the same time, such disgust must be expertly trained. Behind him a nebulous concentration of black stealth-chefs move between shiny, luxurious kitchen workstations as if in a secret NASA cookery experiment. The shadowy foreground is punctuated by lines of bell peppers, perfect-size apples on beds of ice and square bowls of floating cucumber strands. Its all oh so close to being tacky but falls only just on the right side of impressive.<br /><br />The concept menu does not care if you understand it or not. The waiter has prepared his stare of abhorrence for the moment you look at him puzzled. Basically there are a number of dishes that feature on both the starter and main courses list. On either, the portion size may range from enough to share to barely a mouthful. There's no way of knowing without asking him. Price as a guide is useless (£10-£60 each), call me northern but a more logical arrangement would be welcomed. Luckily we were sharing so selected a number of dishes and randomly chose whether to have them small or large. If you're coming here to eat your own meal, take the time to ensure against quantity imbalance.<br /><br />The food on the other hand is balanced to perfection. Every mouthful feels entirely prepared and is swiftly followed by the culinary goose-pimple, a sparkly eye widening. Each dish is as different as the plate on which it serves and over four courses we rejoiced through wafer thin Iberian ham, seafood paella, aubergine caviar (mousse to the layman!) a tiny taste explosion of squid ravioli and outstanding crispy ricepaper wrapped langoustine. Each has a hint of Japanese flavours, the theme of this, the ground floor dining room.<br /><br />On the first floor is a "more formal" dining room "La Cuisna" serving a sightly different (yet just as complicated) menu. Above this is a masonic bar to which we are swooshed to "relax and enjoy" dessert. I'm sure there were more economic reasons for this as the wait staff sprang in to turn around our seats. This quickly forgotten, it was a perfect beyond-exclusive setting to savour the most amazing (and probably most expensive) mango pudding of my life.<br /><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" >L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon<br />13-15 West Street<br />WC2H 9NE (<a href="http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?f=q&hl=en&amp;q=WC2H+9NE&ie=UTF8&ll=51.515393,-0.128403&spn=0.010202,0.027552&amp;z=15&iwloc=addr&om=0">map</a>)<br />Tel: +44 (0) 20</span><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);font-size:85%;" > 7010 8600</span><br /></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-17624306810201215442007-04-29T23:22:00.000+01:002007-05-09T09:10:54.633+01:00Touch: Bali, IndonesiaBali is, I'm told, like no other of the Indonesian islands. A virtually 100% Hindu island the locals are welcoming, easy going, unexpecting and (probably therefore) difficult to read. Within a couple of hours walking around even the most amicable of Englishmen will have a hard nodding back and saying 'good afternoon' for the 55th time without a faltering smile.<br /><br />The Ritz Carlton is where the Island's best grinners and greeters are employed. Its so jubilant they must be trained for it - there's no way people can be that friendly. I was fortunate enough to be upgraded to a Villa featuring its own pair of 40" plasmas, gazebo, infinity pool, fountain and butler, who would be waiting at my gate should I need anything.<br /><br />Only here for a short time we managed a half day's surfing on graciously soft beaches and snorkeling on a nearby and attractive reef. Both in idyllic settings, inexpensive, rewarding and hugely satisfying. Bali is an obviously struggling island that feels like a Hawaii for Asia except with a distinctly 3rd world identity, rough around the edges and great food.<br /><table style="height: 100px;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/479599251/in/set-72157600163286951/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/183/479599251_5f08194495_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/479581998/in/set-72157600163286951/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/172/479581998_688e03b011_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/479597715/in/set-72157600163286951/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/182/479597715_818d6011a0_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><br /></tr></tbody></table>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-6966532267747164182007-04-16T20:37:00.001+01:002007-04-18T10:30:48.165+01:00Taste: Thai CottageSoho's inconsistently full to the brim of almost anything. It's particularly hard to venture away from the beaten track without being either hugely underwhelmed or massively overcharged. Naturally, everybody has their own safe-haven and thanks to many a business lunch, the Thai Cottage is mine.<br /><br />Although the "pre show" board stands disheveled on the pavement outside, this little 8 table, family-run restaurant nestles hilariously far from Broadway, up on D'arblay Street. Pretty much the only 'true' Thai restaurant for a country mile; money can't (and blatantly didn't) buy this type of authenticity. Its like a family run greasy spoon, awful place-mats, wonky wall hangings, mother behind the bar, father sat peeling ginger and the kids nipping downstairs to the kitchen.<br /><br />Food is good and in abundance with loaded dishes of typical cuisine. I've never been here and not had Sea Bream in 3 thai sauce and never will. Satay and Phad Thai are excellent and could rival their counterparts 8,000 miles away. Watch out for the beer, a few harmless little bottles of Phuket and Singha can too easily capsize the wallet.<br /><br />I've been here when the air conditioning broke, the kitchen set on fire and in darkness when the electricity failed. I've sat in every single chair during the last four years and even stood outside with a plate when they didn't have a free table. It's virtually the only restaurant in town where I'm recognised every time and despite tough competition from the likes of Busaba and Patara, the Thai Cottage is top of my Thai list.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Thai Cottage</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">34 D'arblay St, </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">London, W1F 8EX </span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">Tel: 0871 0757487</strong></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-77285283897289385842007-04-03T16:51:00.000+01:002007-04-03T17:37:09.857+01:00Taste: The DoveBroadway market is a curious stretch of shops and restaurants at the south end of Hackney. In very, very olden days this area marked last feeding ground of livestock as they were led through to Brick Lane and Smithfield. Drovers would stop in at the Cat and Mutton or the Flying Horse for a pint of best and rack of lamb.<br /><br />Since then however, the street has been overrun by the surrounding urban estates and only recently resuscitated into the farmers-style market of today. Its a good place to go on a Saturday morning and be spoiled on overpriced organic fayre.<br /><br />A sunny afternoon shows Broadway Market at its best as the gastro pubs spill out onto the streets and the local population hasn't started gathering outside the off license. Tonight we visited the Dove, a popular network of small candlelit annexes, famously serving a hundred or so varieties of Belgian Beer. The list is indeed long and not to be sniffed at (especially with £3 upwards price tag for 25cl). I'm a fan of golden ale so stuck on a delicious Delerium Tremens (9% - haha). 3 of those later and a delicious burger (Wild Boar please) and we were skipping home like happy Trappists.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">The Dove</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">24 Broadway Market</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">E8 4QJ</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">+44 (20) 7275 7617</span></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-40380619554876341682007-03-24T12:30:00.000+00:002007-03-25T23:11:48.593+01:00Taste: Mandarin PalaceWe've rarely the occasion to be near Gants Hill on the weekends, but being in the area for an east London hockey match was a great opportunity to visit a favorite place. Having just returned from a week in Hong Kong, Chinese food is barely top of the genre wish-list, however there's little excuse not to come to one of the finest dim-sum restaurants in London on the way through.<br /><br />The Mandarin Palace is right on the corner of Gants Hill roundabout on the busy A12. Nothing special from the outside - but don't let that deceive you. Inside is a run of small rooms, stylish and calmly dressed with traditional Chinese items and artifacts. It has a comforting elegance without the typical brute-force oriental onslaught (think Canary Wharf's Royal China) or standard Chinatown wall-size paddy field frieze.<br /><br />However, not here today to browse the exhibits. We and the mostly Asian contingent have come for dim-sum, and here is exactly the place I'm referring to after visiting <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/02/taste-yauatcha.html">Yauatcha</a>. They've pretty much every dish going; har-gau, siu-mai, cha-siu-bao... all splendidly fresh and priced at around £2/dish. My taste for dim-sum is purely implicit, delicious is as close as we'll get.<br /><br />Well worth the trip.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Mandarin Palace:<br />559-561 Cranbrook Rd,<br />Gants Hill, Ilford<br />Essex.<br />IG2 6JZ<br />Tel: 020 8550 7661</span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-52730652147624998582007-03-19T19:12:00.000+00:002007-11-18T22:14:10.191+00:00Taste: Dragon-ILan Kwai Fong is a Hong Kong's few blocks of party paradise. Scaling the steep terrain of the island the path upwards is not a light walk after a couple cocktails in the humidity but of course there are a chain of escalators present to help out. By night Dragon-I is one of the city's most exclusive spots, filled with it's most glamorous celebrities I'm told (not that I'd recognize any).<br /><br />On the weekend the club operates as a trendy dim-sum restaurant. Now I know its trendy, cheesy, western dim-sum but honestly, it was almost as good as <a href="http://triplefivedrew.blogspot.com/2007/02/taste-yauatcha.html">Yuatcha</a>. For anybody who's had enough of the real stuff to appreciate it's simplicity, Dragon-I offers a cheeky escape. All you can eat too!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" >Dragon-I<br /> The Centrium 60 Wyndham Street<br /> Hong Kong, <br />Telephone: + 852 3110 1222<br /><a target="_blank" href="http://www.dragon-i.com.hk/">www.dragon-i.com.hk</a></span>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-60724057749938682462007-03-17T14:33:00.000+00:002007-04-04T17:51:16.110+01:00Touch: Hong Kong ReflectionsThere aren't many places I'd rather be in the evening for a couple hours than by the water on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong harbour. Across the water, 3 misty miles of bright, colourful sky-scrapers smothered in advertising logos seem to radiate the success of mankind's prime. Its a breathtaking view for a city-lover like me. Coupled with a jaunt across the harbour on the legendary star ferry (second class, downstairs of course) and into the lanes street market around Shanghai Tang's pedder building and the harmony between ultra-modern and traditional is impressive and humbling.<br /><br />Too much to list... dim sum, Wan Chai, shopping, Times Square, Discovery Bay, steamed chicken, shopping, neon lights and amazing public transport. Hong Kong is an interesting, exciting and inspiring place to be and in many ways puts western cities like London to shame. I'm already looking forwards to the next visit.<table style="height: 100px;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/429147757/in/set-72157600009997300/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/186/429147757_c75ff51415_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/427334657/in/set-72157600009997300/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/157/427334657_c0892ab460_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><td><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/triplefivedrew/427346224/in/set-72157600009997300/"><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/183/427346224_dfdfe5795a_m.jpg" alt="" height="90" /></a></td><br /></tr></tbody></table>triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-64091046840946450442007-03-14T22:25:00.000+00:002007-05-08T23:46:09.743+01:00Touch: Hong Kong ShoppingPrince Edward is a more locals shopping zone. There's barely a sign in English, market stall owners screaming in Chinese (I assume slogans like "buy one get one free") and Chinese women fully inspecting every seam on a $50 (£3.50) jacket. As a result this is a far more authentic experience than the night market or TST can offer.<br /><br />We found a store selling some hilarious Ghibli copies (must buy a car to go with my new Totoro seat belt cover). Amongst the typical shoes, belts, towels offerings were a couple of more fashionable shops with rows of plastic-wrapped bathing ape, X-Large, carhart shirts and some rather nice purchases.<br /><br />Further down the MTR line comes the bustling streets of Mong Kok which have to be closed to traffic in the evenings as the streets flow with shoppers. Only sparse patches of sky can be made out between the myriad of neon signs jutting out from every building promoting everything imaginable. Its like an electric adranaline-fueled supermaket directory walking down the aisles looking up for which shelf the sago shop is on.<br /><br />All about contrast, Central is a completely different story with acres of connected shopping centres sprawled between the finacial high-rises. Here the designer labels reign with almost-UK priced items for the cash rich only.triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36256865.post-82958895787132272992007-03-12T00:06:00.000+00:002007-03-22T20:28:23.061+00:00Touch: Hong Kong ElectronicsGadget list in hand (Ipods, cameras, consoles) we're whisked on the effortless MTR (the tube should terminate here and see how it's supposed to be done!) over to Kowloon island and TST (Tsim Sha Tsui); electronics central. <br /><br />Actually, electronics central for gullible tourists more like and after a couple of hours of mostly variable prices it's obvious that nobody is telling the truth. They're far more interested in introducing confused gabble, a better-than-that package and an extra few hundred dollars for chargers and instruction manuals.<br /><br />Fortunately for us (and not so much for them) I came for a specific list of items and so we're all but ejected from most shops without entertainment. Its the naive visitors they're after - otherwise no chance of a scam.<br /><br />My advice - forget the shiny shops, read <a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_112092_buy-camera-hong.html">this guide</a> and head away from Nathan Road, up into Mong Kok where prices are fixed and on display. We got the full list from one place - Wing Shing on Sai Yeung Choi Street and saved around £400 on 4 items.triplefivedrewhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05443753502823208170noreply@blogger.com0