Thursday, April 19, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Back to proper restaurants... and London
He says...
On an initial glance, the prime number SEVEN springs up rich pickings, coming as it does with its connotations of good fortune, the days of the week and Gwyneth Paltrow’s head in a box.
And appropriately, my first finding is yankee diner Lucky7 in London’s fashionable Westbourne Park, which looks pretty groovy, but seems to only serve breakfasts and burgers. The burgers look good, but would surely be nothing on the bison burgers served at Ted’s Montana Grill in Atlanta, which were the unadulterated taste of evil.
Then we come to the ably-named Seven in Richmond, which serves Afghan, Lebanese and Turkish delicacies, a cuisine I’m still bored with since Restaurant 2. However, I love all the different spellings of humus, and Seven’s version, ‘HOMUS’ is particularly good. They also serve ‘SALADZ’ – street style!
The Hawksmoor Seven Dials is a rather good place for slabs of cow but the name is a bit of a cheat and I’ve already been there anyway.
There’s also Seven at Brixton (Does this pose a copyright issue to Seven in Richmond?) which is one of those open air bars in the market where you sit pretending you’re not freezing your nuts off. Cocktails are served in teacups (all very cool with certain types not so long ago) and food is served on sticks. All food will be served on sticks in the future so that it doesn’t blow away on as we fly along on our hoverpods.
We ate beefhearts on a stick last weekend at Soho Peruvian restaurant Ceviche - sadly they didn’t come with a potato firmly stuck on the end to keep them in place, like they did in Cusco.
But I’m feeling intrigued by the wankily sumptuous Seven Park Place by William Drabble. I’ve never heard of William but it sounds like I should have. It has one Michelin Star and a ‘gourmand menu’ that ploughs through intriguing treats like ‘Seared foie gras with tart tatin of endive and blood orange’ and ‘Roasted chicken wings with potato gnocchi, chicken emulsion and morel mushrooms’.
I reckon the amuse bouche will be green… or maybe blue.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
SIX : Chez Mum & Dad
She says....
Problem solved!
Whilst visiting the parentals, Mum, inadvertently, found us restaurant #6. The chef is revered across Europe (well she's been heard of in Switzerland at least) the atmosphere is known to be homely with a slight chintzy 70's vibe. Basically we realised that my parents live at #6 and as mum was going to cook us dinner on the night of the 6th April it was all just too happy a co-incidence to ignore.
So, much to my mum's horror, we decided to review her Good Friday meal.
First up a smooth and sweet butternut squash soup. Having seen it in a carton in the fridge earlier I can't pretend it was homemade, but points for choosing such a tasty, healthy version from all the posh 'fresh' soups now on offer. Have always wondered how something with a sell-by-date at least 2 weeks ahead can claim to be fresh, but, in line with my middle class pretentions, I'm still easily sucked into paying double for the chilled one over the Heinz in the tin.
Onto the main course and respect is due to my mum for cooking something I would never order in a restaurant. Unlikely, in fact, to even see on a restaurant menu these days. Gammon. Cooked just tender enough and hacked zealously by my dad into rough chunky slices. Definitely not bland shop bought meat here. Piles of unadorned veg and mashed potato filled the plate up, and parsley sauce (no me neither, but apparently it is traditional with gammon) finished it off.
Praise must go to my dad for raiding the wine rack and getting us royally pissed. A full-bodied Chardonnay with the soup and a light French red with the gammon. Neither over £6 from the local supermarket I'd wager, but none the worse for that. I think he'd had instructions from mum to keep us topped up to ensure a good review.
The finale was the 'from scratch rhubarb' crumble. Rhubarb is one of those things I've grown into and, along with spinach and mushrooms, where once I would have gagged trying to swallow an enforced mouthful, I now absolutely favour it over many other foods. Add a dollop of low fat yoghurt (not homemade, we don't live on a farm, after all) and the, perhaps slightly 70's, meal was complete.
More wine, a slice of home-crafted Victoria sponge, a snifter of whiskey and a game of Trivial Pursuits later and I was rolling into bed rather pleased with our evening chez Mum & Dad.
Restaurant #6 = 10/10
He says....
But what can I possibly say of the meal, prepared by the fair hands of Susan*, mother of Kat? Only that the freshly-carved slices of gammon were juicy and in plentiful supply; the mashed potato surely as fluffy and creamy as anything prepared by the pretentious hands of Heston Blumenthal; and as for the parsley sauce, the admiring smile on my face bore witness to the piquancy contained within that delicate jug.
*Names changed to protect the Internet-paranoid
Problem solved!
Whilst visiting the parentals, Mum, inadvertently, found us restaurant #6. The chef is revered across Europe (well she's been heard of in Switzerland at least) the atmosphere is known to be homely with a slight chintzy 70's vibe. Basically we realised that my parents live at #6 and as mum was going to cook us dinner on the night of the 6th April it was all just too happy a co-incidence to ignore.
So, much to my mum's horror, we decided to review her Good Friday meal.
First up a smooth and sweet butternut squash soup. Having seen it in a carton in the fridge earlier I can't pretend it was homemade, but points for choosing such a tasty, healthy version from all the posh 'fresh' soups now on offer. Have always wondered how something with a sell-by-date at least 2 weeks ahead can claim to be fresh, but, in line with my middle class pretentions, I'm still easily sucked into paying double for the chilled one over the Heinz in the tin.
Onto the main course and respect is due to my mum for cooking something I would never order in a restaurant. Unlikely, in fact, to even see on a restaurant menu these days. Gammon. Cooked just tender enough and hacked zealously by my dad into rough chunky slices. Definitely not bland shop bought meat here. Piles of unadorned veg and mashed potato filled the plate up, and parsley sauce (no me neither, but apparently it is traditional with gammon) finished it off.
Praise must go to my dad for raiding the wine rack and getting us royally pissed. A full-bodied Chardonnay with the soup and a light French red with the gammon. Neither over £6 from the local supermarket I'd wager, but none the worse for that. I think he'd had instructions from mum to keep us topped up to ensure a good review.
The finale was the 'from scratch rhubarb' crumble. Rhubarb is one of those things I've grown into and, along with spinach and mushrooms, where once I would have gagged trying to swallow an enforced mouthful, I now absolutely favour it over many other foods. Add a dollop of low fat yoghurt (not homemade, we don't live on a farm, after all) and the, perhaps slightly 70's, meal was complete.
More wine, a slice of home-crafted Victoria sponge, a snifter of whiskey and a game of Trivial Pursuits later and I was rolling into bed rather pleased with our evening chez Mum & Dad.
Restaurant #6 = 10/10
He says....
Reviewing Katherine’s parents’ home cooking may seem to be crossing a new vanguard in pointlessness in a blog already rich in futility. But the fact that we were residing at a number six on a mystery street (somewhere in the North of England) on the sixth of April did seem to provide a certain unavoidable synchronicity.
Kat attempted to keep the night’s menu a secret from me until we sat down in the dining room (a room I had previously not known existed, despite this being my fourth visit to their household).
But sadly the meal was revealed to me as I attempted to get some warm water out of the temperamental family shower. Geoff* shouted up the stairs, asking which wine she’d like with the gammon. Her response, ‘a light red’, seemed to leave Geoff temporarily befuddled as he consulted his wine rack.
But what can I possibly say of the meal, prepared by the fair hands of Susan*, mother of Kat? Only that the freshly-carved slices of gammon were juicy and in plentiful supply; the mashed potato surely as fluffy and creamy as anything prepared by the pretentious hands of Heston Blumenthal; and as for the parsley sauce, the admiring smile on my face bore witness to the piquancy contained within that delicate jug. The conversation flowed as effortlessly as the bread rolls, but did not distract me from requesting seconds, as all good men visiting his girlfriend's family should do.
The dessert was that classic of mum-cooking, the rhubarb crumble, and it did not fail to impress, beating the one we ate with my own dad in Hammersmith’s The Dove two days later, hands down. The only reflection I’d make would be that Susan’s crumble would have been even more mouth-watering if it had been warmed up, in order to better unlock its delicious flavours. But that is only a suggestion and not in any way meant as a criticism. Oh, no.
The night was completed by Matt and Kat being beaten hands down by Geoff and Susan at Trivial Pursuit, in a game which did nothing for the image of cultured intelligence I was attempting to cultivate with the family.
*Names changed to protect the Internet-paranoid
Restaurant #6 = 11/10 at least
Saturday, March 24, 2012
no six
There are no restaurants with a '6' in their name in the whole of Cheshire and Lancashire. Well, except for a small coffee shop called Number Six, which appears to have just been sold to someone relocating from Guernsey. Amazing what you find out on the old internet. Can anyone out there help us?
Saturday, March 17, 2012
FIVE: Five Hot Chillies
He says...
The Chillies sits on the Harrow Road at number eight hundred and something – is The Harrow Road the longest road in London? Does it date back to Roman times? There are probably answers to these questions all over the web, but I would rather leave these questions hanging mysteriously in the air between myself and you, dear reader.
As I went to the loo I told Kat to order the dalek, a humorous joke which referred to the shape of kulfi, the chewy Indian ice cream. On my return I found that she had indeed requested a member of the robotic race of Doctor Who aggressors, causing much embarrassment all round, which I had blissfully missed.
We made a decision! Cancelled 5 Pollen Street and got on a tube going the other way, out of town. Heading to a restaurant we really would never have gone to had it not been for this silly blog thing, I finally got my wish of getting off at a station I'd not visited before - Sudbury Town.
A short 20 minute journey on the Piccadilly Line from our West London manor, it's actually a lovely original thirties tube stop with an impressive frontage, old signs and a waiting room! Without tasting any food this was already and adventure worth starting.
On to a nearby pub to soak up the local atmosphere. We'd googled for one close to the restaurant and come up with The Swan - described by some totally unbiased reviewers on beerintheevening as 'by far the best in the area' and a pub that's got it all 'from superb bar staff/management to great beer garden smoking are out back. 2 big screens...(sic)' yet they forgot to mention the lovely roaring fire, pool tables keeping a group of yoofs happy in the back room and the collection of older beer bellies keeping the other seats in the pub warm. A pub of Irish persuasion it had it's orange and green bunting out ready for St Patrick's Day the following day.
I had decided that I didn't, after all, want to do anything predictably romantic for our anniversary, so - so far so prefect!
Onwards along a deserted Harrow Road further into deepest darkest Wembley the intrepid gourmands trotted. Finally, on a corner of an unassuming suburban street was our destination - Five Hot Chillies. From reading reviews of this Halal Indian and Pakistani restaurant we were prepared for the cafe style and bright strip lighting, so weren't daunted by first appearances. I'd also come prepared with 2 bottles of wine as we'd ascertained that it doesn't serve alcohol but allows you to BYO. In possibly the only nod to the occasion I'd picked an Australian Shiraz called Lovegrass. Cute, huh.
Friendly attentive staff struggled to leave us alone long enough to choose from their very nicely laid out menu, all shiny and new with enticing descriptions and everything spelt right.
After recovering from the slight drawback of no fish being available due to a delivery failure, we settled on a couple of starters plus a meat and a veg main, rice and naan. One of the starters we both agreed was the star of the show. Inspired by the chap next to us we'd gone for the tandoori lamb chops. Four juicy, just spicy enough, tender cutlets. Very very good. The chilli paneer was also good. The sauce a little too much like tomato ketchup, but the fried cheese had a fantastically firm bite, a texture so much like chicken I had a moment wondering if we'd mis-ordered!
The other meat dish, a main of Nehari, was also really well cooked; very slowly so the meat was incredibly soft and falling of the shank into the spicy gravy. The Baingan Bhurta aubergine dish was a bit bland by comparison, but the boiled rice seemed fresh and came with a large star anise giving a subtle tangy flavour. The plain naan was er... nice and plain.
Then we did something I've never done in an Indian before - had a dessert. After a minor ordering embarrassment we enjoyed a pistachio kalfi and a bowl of cereal. Haha no, of course I mean ras malai - a sweetened ball of paneer cheese swimming in some sort of milk, that was, for our Italian friends, smooth and creamy and uncommonly good.
And it came to £31. Add in £12 for the wine and we'd fed 2 mouths in a relaxing unpretentious place for the price of one in Mayfair's 5 Pollen Street. If you happen to be heading this way this place is definitely worth your time and money, and the quality of the lamb dishes I think almost makes it a destination restaurant for meat lovers. We might even be tempted back to try the fish.
Job done.
Many thanks to my lovely partner in culinary adventures.. hope we can keep this going for many years to come xx
8/10
Five Hot Chillies won out. A journey the other way down the Piccadilly Line was the first of many new experiences, as we passed through hitherto unknown lands with exotic names: Park Royal; Alperton; North Ealing. But none of these were to be our destination – Sudbury Town was our aromatically-spiced goal.
Some ladies might think that an Irish pub on the outskirts of Wembley might be an ignominious place to start their first anniversary celebrations, but Kat is a game old bird who’d never pass up the chance of a new experience. And the chaps at The Swan were a charming bunch who were laissez faire enough to overlook my green duffle coat without comment.
The Chillies sits on the Harrow Road at number eight hundred and something – is The Harrow Road the longest road in London? Does it date back to Roman times? There are probably answers to these questions all over the web, but I would rather leave these questions hanging mysteriously in the air between myself and you, dear reader.They’re a keen bunch though – the Chillies that is. We’d barely got our coats off before the bearded man-mountain of a waiter was clamouring for our order. We sent him away twice before finally coming up with the goods, by which time he had an air of weary resignation.
Sadly the fish was off. ALL the fish. Which, while disappointing at the time, I noted to Kat that this might have been a blessing in disguise, anally speaking.
What we did have was chilli paneer - which is cheese curry. Yes, dad - cheese curry! They don’t do that at your one, do they? And tandoori lamb chops, which were tender, with spices at just the right level. And the BYOB option meant that I remained quietly smug about the price, compared to the originally-booked 5 Pollen Street. Who, by then, must have been wondering if we were EVER going to turn up.
As the two hooded chaps on the next table silently texted each other, our steaming piles of curry arrived: Neheri, which is a delicious stew of lamb shank cooked in ginger; and the slightly less exciting Baingan Bhurta – mashed aubergine in ginger and garlic. These with the requisite boiled rice and nan provided a top rate alternative take on the typical Friday night curry.
As I went to the loo I told Kat to order the dalek, a humorous joke which referred to the shape of kulfi, the chewy Indian ice cream. On my return I found that she had indeed requested a member of the robotic race of Doctor Who aggressors, causing much embarrassment all round, which I had blissfully missed. The pistachio kulfi was indeed a delicious chewy ice cream, but more phallic in appearance than dalek-shaped. And by the way, are there any Indian restaurants in London that serve burfi, the heavy Indian dessert that’s a bit like shortbread? It’s all over the shop in Birmingham.
And so back home, with the promise of The Elephant Man on DVD to finish off this spicy West London extravaganza. ‘I am not an elephant! I am not an animal! I am a human being! I am a man!’
8/10
She says...
We made a decision! Cancelled 5 Pollen Street and got on a tube going the other way, out of town. Heading to a restaurant we really would never have gone to had it not been for this silly blog thing, I finally got my wish of getting off at a station I'd not visited before - Sudbury Town. A short 20 minute journey on the Piccadilly Line from our West London manor, it's actually a lovely original thirties tube stop with an impressive frontage, old signs and a waiting room! Without tasting any food this was already and adventure worth starting.
On to a nearby pub to soak up the local atmosphere. We'd googled for one close to the restaurant and come up with The Swan - described by some totally unbiased reviewers on beerintheevening as 'by far the best in the area' and a pub that's got it all 'from superb bar staff/management to great beer garden smoking are out back. 2 big screens...(sic)' yet they forgot to mention the lovely roaring fire, pool tables keeping a group of yoofs happy in the back room and the collection of older beer bellies keeping the other seats in the pub warm. A pub of Irish persuasion it had it's orange and green bunting out ready for St Patrick's Day the following day.
I had decided that I didn't, after all, want to do anything predictably romantic for our anniversary, so - so far so prefect!
Onwards along a deserted Harrow Road further into deepest darkest Wembley the intrepid gourmands trotted. Finally, on a corner of an unassuming suburban street was our destination - Five Hot Chillies. From reading reviews of this Halal Indian and Pakistani restaurant we were prepared for the cafe style and bright strip lighting, so weren't daunted by first appearances. I'd also come prepared with 2 bottles of wine as we'd ascertained that it doesn't serve alcohol but allows you to BYO. In possibly the only nod to the occasion I'd picked an Australian Shiraz called Lovegrass. Cute, huh.
Friendly attentive staff struggled to leave us alone long enough to choose from their very nicely laid out menu, all shiny and new with enticing descriptions and everything spelt right.After recovering from the slight drawback of no fish being available due to a delivery failure, we settled on a couple of starters plus a meat and a veg main, rice and naan. One of the starters we both agreed was the star of the show. Inspired by the chap next to us we'd gone for the tandoori lamb chops. Four juicy, just spicy enough, tender cutlets. Very very good. The chilli paneer was also good. The sauce a little too much like tomato ketchup, but the fried cheese had a fantastically firm bite, a texture so much like chicken I had a moment wondering if we'd mis-ordered!
The other meat dish, a main of Nehari, was also really well cooked; very slowly so the meat was incredibly soft and falling of the shank into the spicy gravy. The Baingan Bhurta aubergine dish was a bit bland by comparison, but the boiled rice seemed fresh and came with a large star anise giving a subtle tangy flavour. The plain naan was er... nice and plain.
Then we did something I've never done in an Indian before - had a dessert. After a minor ordering embarrassment we enjoyed a pistachio kalfi and a bowl of cereal. Haha no, of course I mean ras malai - a sweetened ball of paneer cheese swimming in some sort of milk, that was, for our Italian friends, smooth and creamy and uncommonly good.
And it came to £31. Add in £12 for the wine and we'd fed 2 mouths in a relaxing unpretentious place for the price of one in Mayfair's 5 Pollen Street. If you happen to be heading this way this place is definitely worth your time and money, and the quality of the lamb dishes I think almost makes it a destination restaurant for meat lovers. We might even be tempted back to try the fish.
Job done.
Many thanks to my lovely partner in culinary adventures.. hope we can keep this going for many years to come xx
8/10
Thursday, March 15, 2012
5 is tomorrow night... or is't?
He says:
Tomorrow night is our first anniversary and we are going to attempt to eat at restaurant number 5... but which one? We are all of a quandary. We've booked 5 Pollen Street, but I've since realised that I had a workie lunch there about six months ago... which was very nice, but there's not much point going again. And it's well expensive too. So all in all, it doesn't sit too good.
But I've just found FIVE 25. Yeah, its a bit of a cheat with the name, but these are desperate times. It's also a restaurant in a hotel (hmm...), the Harrington Hall in South Ken, which is close to home (yay!). Apparently they make 'bold modern European food', which sounds good, but I can't find a menu anywhere.
Otherwise, there's Five Hot Chillies - an Indian! In Sudbury (Middlesex)! With a good write up on Time Out. I'm sold. But now Kat's saying she doesn't want to eat Indian on our anniversary, and maybe we should go to a Peruvian restaurant instead... sigh.
Tomorrow night is our first anniversary and we are going to attempt to eat at restaurant number 5... but which one? We are all of a quandary. We've booked 5 Pollen Street, but I've since realised that I had a workie lunch there about six months ago... which was very nice, but there's not much point going again. And it's well expensive too. So all in all, it doesn't sit too good.
But I've just found FIVE 25. Yeah, its a bit of a cheat with the name, but these are desperate times. It's also a restaurant in a hotel (hmm...), the Harrington Hall in South Ken, which is close to home (yay!). Apparently they make 'bold modern European food', which sounds good, but I can't find a menu anywhere.
Otherwise, there's Five Hot Chillies - an Indian! In Sudbury (Middlesex)! With a good write up on Time Out. I'm sold. But now Kat's saying she doesn't want to eat Indian on our anniversary, and maybe we should go to a Peruvian restaurant instead... sigh.
Monday, February 06, 2012
Number 5 in London
She says:
The special trip I'd hoped to make to continue our food odyssey outside London has been vetoed. Much like David Cameron, Matt feels we shouldn't explore what the rest of the country has to offer and stay staunchly London-centric. Humpf.
So having refined the search these restaurants now present themselves as possibilities.
No5 Cavendish Square is a central London boutique hotel & club as well as a restaurant, but their website is [sic] 'under update' so I'll link you to a Trip Adviser review instead. Described initially as "a bit poncy", the concise review continues "but good for a drink if you have your beer goggles on”. I went there once for drinks, with my boss, late, after some awards show. I fell over on the dance floor due to my beer goggles, and threw up in their lovely poncey toilets. I'm probably banned.
At least attempting to leave central London, and its uncomfortable memories, behind, The Five Bells pub in East Finchley really does seem like a good option. Part of the Flaming Grill Pub Co group, of which I've never previously heard, they do some amazing food offers - 2 meals b4 6pm for £9 or 2 Dine for £20 after 6pm! And there's a dessert called Chocolate Mega Mountain! On closer inspection it looks like the offers were, disappointingly, just for January. Classy this is not, but as the recession draws in cheap food is at a premium. Or something.
And finally, a suggestion from one of our lovely readers! We recently met at the yearly Burn's Night I attend and I don't remember giving out our blog address, but good work tracking us down Kit! His 5 Pollen Street looks just about perfect for us middle income middle class foodie types who think we're just a little bit alternative. Situated in sophisticated Mayfair it has beautifully quirky wallpaper, very much like our own, to set it apart from the other more staid expense account lunching options in the area.
The Italian menu sounds like it knows exactly what it's doing, and there are better value lunch deals. The only problem, and it's a nice problem to have, is that we've definitely been in this zone a few times before - nice European food at just about affordable prices in stylish surroundings. I WANT ADVENTURE!
The special trip I'd hoped to make to continue our food odyssey outside London has been vetoed. Much like David Cameron, Matt feels we shouldn't explore what the rest of the country has to offer and stay staunchly London-centric. Humpf.
So having refined the search these restaurants now present themselves as possibilities.
No5 Cavendish Square is a central London boutique hotel & club as well as a restaurant, but their website is [sic] 'under update' so I'll link you to a Trip Adviser review instead. Described initially as "a bit poncy", the concise review continues "but good for a drink if you have your beer goggles on”. I went there once for drinks, with my boss, late, after some awards show. I fell over on the dance floor due to my beer goggles, and threw up in their lovely poncey toilets. I'm probably banned.
And finally, a suggestion from one of our lovely readers! We recently met at the yearly Burn's Night I attend and I don't remember giving out our blog address, but good work tracking us down Kit! His 5 Pollen Street looks just about perfect for us middle income middle class foodie types who think we're just a little bit alternative. Situated in sophisticated Mayfair it has beautifully quirky wallpaper, very much like our own, to set it apart from the other more staid expense account lunching options in the area.The Italian menu sounds like it knows exactly what it's doing, and there are better value lunch deals. The only problem, and it's a nice problem to have, is that we've definitely been in this zone a few times before - nice European food at just about affordable prices in stylish surroundings. I WANT ADVENTURE!
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