After years of continuous eating, the 'Girl Who Has To Eat' has been spurred on to create her own food guide & blog. Read about her fabulous (and sometimes not so fabulous) culinary adventures in her restaurant reviews. This and more, including stories on her cookery school.
There are some pretty exciting Australian chefs on the London scene right now, eg, Shane Osborn (Pied a Terre), David Thompson (Nahm), Skye Gyngell (Petersham Nurseries). Another is Brett Graham, who after opening The Ledbury at the age of 26, became the youngest Australian to ever win a Michelin star. This January saw Brett earn his second star, an achievement further capped when his sideline venture, The Harwood Arms, also won its first star. But then, Brett has always been on a steady climb. After arriving in London in 2000, he became a winner of the Young Chef of the Year award just two years later. Before The Ledbury, his time in London was spent working his way up to senior sous chef at The Square under Philip Howard.
For a two star restaurant, The Ledbury has one of the best value Sunday lunch menus around. Three courses from the a la carte menu costs only £40, with a similar menu in the evening being priced at £65. However, the only drawback of dining on Sundays (and Saturdays) is that Brett typically doesn’t cook during the weekends. Although, not having the head chef in action should, in principle, not make a difference.
Amuse bouche was a pomegranate macaroon with foie gras parfait and ginger crumbs. The parfait was creamy with the richness of the foie gras, and it married beautifully with the lightness of the macaroon. The touch of ginger added a nice zing to the combination.
I know I’ve only just been to Bar Boulud. And it’s not often that I go back to a restaurant so soon, but I couldn’t help myself. I was dying for a taste of that fabulous charcuterie again, and it really was remiss of me not to have tried the Boulud hamburgers that New Yorkers rave about last time. And beside, I thought I’d give dinner a go. My repeat visit was also rewarded with the presence of Boulud himself who was working that huge dining room and hobnobbing with the Knightsbridge set.
I couldn’t get a table booking for dinner, but you can turn up without a reservation to see if you can secure a seat at the charcuterie bar, the drinks bar or the lounge. At night, the restaurant feels more up market and less ‘Holiday Inn’ – the dimmer lights help - so I liked the décor more during dinner. I went for the charcuterie bar which places you in full view of the kitchen. Sitting here turned out to be an interesting experience as I hadn’t expected to see what I got to see. It seems that one of the chefs has a habit of licking the spoon he uses to plate food with. This would be alright if he washed the spoon after each use, but he didn’t, so some of the dishes had an added ingredient known as chef’s saliva. I watched him with great interest for at least 30 minutes, and in that time frame that same spoon made it into his mouth countless times but only got washed once. Ick! Hopefully this practice will be eliminated for we quietly mentioned this to management…
Thankfully the above mentioned chef had no hand (or saliva) in the food that we ordered. The charcuterie platter (£14 for small) was again excellent. We had some repeats from my last visit, but also some newbies, including tagine d’agneau (terrine of slow cooked spiced leg of lamb, aubergine and sweet potato) (extreme left), which was meltingly tender, and pâté grand-mère (fine country pâté of chicken liver, pork and cognac) (bottom centre), which was good, but not as flavoursome as the pâté grand-père. We also sampled the lomo Ibérico (Spanish cured pork loin) which sizzled with flavour and melted on your tongue.
New York based Lyonnaise Chef Daniel Boulud is probably most famous for his namesake fine dining restaurant, Daniel, on the Upper East Side. But his restaurant empire isn’t limited to this three star Michelin restaurant. He has a string of bistro-y type places in The Big Apple including DBGB Kitchen & Bar, Cafe Boulud and DB Bistro Moderne, and also in other cities such as Las Vegas, Vancouver and Beijing. Bar Boulud at the Mandarin Oriental in Knightsbridge is his first venture in London.
Try as I might, I couldn’t warm to the decor at Bar Boulud. Where Bistro Moderne, which I have been to, has the feel of understated chic, Bar Boulud only looks slightly more glamorous than a high end Holiday Inn. Given that the designer is Adam Tihany (think Sketch and Apsleys), and that the restaurant is part of the 5-star Mandarin Oriental, I found this rather surprising. I know money must have been spent on this set-up - anything with Tihany’s name behind it is expensive. But try as I might, I couldn’t see where the ‘French bistro inspiration’ mentioned on the restaurant’s website comes from. Don’t get me wrong, the place is pleasant and comfortable. But when you think Tihany and Mandarin Oriental, you don’t really expect high end motel. This is a place I would have no problems coming to for lunch, but I would be less sure about for dinner.
So lunch it was. I am surprised at how reasonably priced the menu is. The most expensive main is £23 and there are a number of sausage and hamburger choices which will only set you back £11-13. But in the end we decided to go for a 3 course prix fixe lunch menu for £20. I am not always sold on set menus such as these, but as some of the options in the prix fixe can also be found on the à la carte menu, I thought the prix fixe a good bet. We also decided to supplement the prix fixe menu with a small charcuterie degustation board (£14).
The excitement of getting to dine at Bruno Loubet’s latest London reincarnation – Bistrot Bruno Loubet at The Zetter Hotel - was surpassed, for me anyway, by the fact that we got to sit next to Sir Michael Caine during dinner. To be precise, he was actually sitting at the table next to us with his beautiful wife Shakira (you would never believe she’s 63), but he was so close to me I could have easily tapped him on his shoulder. He sounds just like he does on the big screen, all nasally in that charming, endearing kind of way. I pretended to be all cool, like I hadn’t noticed him, but I must admit to secretly gaping at him out of the corner of my eye.
Well it was no surprise that he would get fawned over - he is a huge celebrity after all. But what was surprising was just how useless our assigned waiter was. He took his time to come and take our order. And when he did come, he didn’t have a pen, so he walked off to get one, and then for some reason forgot to come back. What kind of waiter doesn’t have a pen? He also took his time delivering our bread. But that said, some of the other waiters who also served us during the evening were lovely and attentive, so I don’t think it would be fair to say that all of the service was bad.
Bruno Loubet earnt a notable reputation as a chef under the likes of Pierre Koffman and Raymond Blanc in the 1990s, before going on to successfully head up restaurants Bistro Bruno and L’Odeon. He spent much of the Noughties in Australia, but a decade later, and he’s back in London. With his background, it’s unsurprising that Bistrot Bruno Loubet is classically French.
Guinea fowl boudin blanc (£7) was exquisitely light with a mousse-like texture, but it was a touch heavy on the seasoning. The accompanying creamy leek fondue and chervil sauce married beautifully with the gentle guinea fowl flavour. Having once watched a boudin blanc demonstration at Le Cordon Bleu, this is a fairly complex dish to make. This was a wonderful rendition of the Lyonnaise classic.
When Quo Vadis reopened in 2008 following a buyout and revamp by the famous restaurateur brothers, Sam and Eddie Hart (their other restaurants include Fino and Barrafina), it was virtually impossible to get a reservation. That distinction now belongs to Dean Street Townhouse, where despite numerous attempts to secure a booking, I have only ever been offered 6pm or 10pm timeslots. Two years on, and its much easier to get a table at Quo Vadis, so with any luck, in about two years time, I might actually get to have the pleasure of dining at Dean Street Townhouse.
Quo Vadis first opened its doors in 1926, and at one point it had the distinction of being Karl Marx’s workplace. Before the Hart Brothers took over the restaurant, it was part of the empire of Marco Pierre White, the chef who once held three Michelin stars but has fallen so spectacularly from grace that he is now a spokesman for Bernard Matthews.
The Edwardian building that is Quo Vadis has maintained much of its original charm. Art deco mirrors and elaborate art works, including a Damien Hirst, grace the walls. The furnishings are comfortable and elegant.
A starter of octopus, chorizo and artichoke salad (£8.50) was generously filled with the bite-sized pieces of soft octopus, hearty chorizo and tender artichoke. The dressing was light and pleasing, and overall, this was a lovely salad.
Kettner’s owes its name to Auguste Kettner, who as chef to Napoleon III, opened up a restaurant 1867. A ‘Soho institution’ that has seen the likes of Agatha Christie and Oscar Wilde passing through its doors, the restaurant has been through several reincarnations including that of a pizza parlour. The latest transformation took place in 2008 when it was extensively refurbished in its current guise as a restaurant and champagne bar.
Interior designer Ilse Crawford has created a rococo-style décor which has been softened with muted lighting to maximise the allure of the various objets d’art that graces the grand dining room and champagne bar. Large windows allow a bird’s eye view of all the Soho street activity.
The food is French/European, and we started with a grilled quail with orange and pomegranate salad (£7). The quail was nicely cooked, leaving the flesh moist, but the skin had been charred to the point where it was slightly burnt. It was also very peppery, which left a heavy pepper aftertaste. The salad was fresh, but it was overwhelmed by too much orange dressing.
The last couple of meals that I had with LD (at The Cadogan Arms and Le Café Anglais) proved to be somewhat unsuccessful. This seemed to have the effect of putting a dent in my ‘restaurant choosing capability’ as this time round she suggested (insisted) that she pick the destination for our next meal out. With a sniff, I agreed. I obviously don’t get it right all the time, but I like holding the mantle of ‘restaurant picker’ amongst my friends, even if it is self-bestowed, and it isn’t a title that I wanted to relinquish easily.
So this is how, at LD’s suggestion, we ended up at Marco at Stamford Bridge (sniff). The restaurant is a collaborative effort between Chef Marco Pierre White and as you might have guessed, Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich. The restaurant has the look of money behind it. The room is filled with leather cubicle seating and glamorous black and white photographs of celebrities from a bygone era. It’s dark and decadent, and if cigars were allowed, I would have almost hazarded a guess that this was an old-fashioned gentlemen’s club house.
On a recent visit to Berlin, I went to Margaux Restaurant, a Michelin one star restaurant which came highly recommended from Victor’s Gourmet Restaurant’s chef, Christian Bau. After having had perhaps the best meal of my life at the latter restaurant, I now rate Bau as one of my favourite chefs of all time. So when Bau recommends a restaurant to try, it’s a suggestion that’s pretty hard to ignore.
Located on Berlin’s main street of Unter de Linden, around the corner from the Brandenburg Gate, the restaurant is imposingly striking. There is sleek walnut panelling interlaced with creative ‘mother-of-pearl’ type lighting as the restaurant’s backdrop. The seating is of a mustard colour which complements the white linen tablecloths nicely, and there are other warm and sophisticated touches throughout.
Kitchen W8, which opened about three weeks ago, is co-owned by none other than Philip Howard of the two star Michelined restaurant The Square, and Rebecca Mascarenhas of Sonny’s (which I also coincidentally visited recently). Wow. Philip Howard is some star backing. But Rebecca is no new comer to the restaurant dining scene either. She owns not only Sonny’s in Barnes, but Sonny’s in Nottingham and The Phoenix in Putney as well. With Kitchen W8 she has her fifth restaurant opening for it is located on the site of one of her previous restaurants, the appropriately named 11 Abingdon Road (the address of the restaurant), which closed in July this year and which subsequently made way for this new joint venture.
The premise for Kitchen W8 is simple – a neighbourhood restaurant that serves good “modern English style food with a French soul” at decent prices. The décor feels too glamorous to be a simple ‘neighbourhood’ restaurant, but then this is Kensington after all. It’s very stylish and warm – the walls are of a grey colour and the floor of a walnut wood. The lighting is also cleverly done to great effect – the restaurant is nicely dimmed, but there are individual spotlights illuminating each table for better visibility.
There is the saying that all good things must come to an end, and I am sad to say that my trip is finally over. I am back in London now, but as a last hoorah, a decision helped in no small part by the discovery of a very cheap ticket, I decided on a whim to detour via Helsinki for a flying visit to try Chez Dominique before finally dragging myself home. The visit was so ‘flying’ that I literally stepped off the plane, headed straight to the restaurant and flew out the next day.
With less than an hour between landing and last orders (which coincidentally I barely made), there was no time to check into my hotel before going to the restaurant. In the days leading up to the meal, I had been playing out in my head the embarrassment of turning up to a two star Michelin restaurant with ALL my luggage in tow (a handbag, a large battered wheelie suitcase and a small rucksack) over and over again, but living out the reality was worse. What I hadn’t quite allowed for was the fact that the restaurant has neither a partition nor a sitting area between the doorway and the dining room which would have hidden me from sight, even if only partially. No sirree. This meant that the moment I walked into the restaurant I was in full view of all the patrons who faced the door. “Yes” I tried to explain with my eyes to one particular diner who kept staring at me in astonishment during that one looooong minute before the waitress came to rescue me, “I do know that this is a fine dining establishment and not a hotel. Honest.”
I have to admit that I felt rather sad when I left Sicily. I had a marvellous time there, and despite all my moaning about the heat, I found the sunshine extremely soothing for the soul. So my parting meal at Palermo airport, if you could even call it that, was a big fat cannolo, even though after about my eighth one I vehemently swore I would not eat another. To me the humble cannolo, which can be found throughout Sicily, was a symbol of what made my time there so great. And this one at the airport tasted the best of the lot. Why is food, when touched with a twinge of nostalgia, always extra good? Barely two hours after leaving Sicily I was yearning for the taste of that cannolo again.
But new experiences were to be had, some unwanted. On my arrival in Split, Croatia, my luggage went AWOL. Croatian Airlines blamed the Italian luggage handlers and were rather unhelpful during the whole episode. There were no reassurances from them that my bag would be recovered. In fact they suggested that it might never resurface at all. But it did, although it would take two pretty stressful days. What I discovered during that time was how little you actually need.
After Split I headed to Dubrovnik. The bus route hugs the coast all the way, and the scenery was truly amazing - cliff edge precipices married with pristine waters and lush green islands. But greeting Dubrovnik for the first time at night was something else. Wave after wave of stone make up the Old Town walls, and when lit up in lights, it is truly a spectacle to behold. I will never forget the adulation I felt the moment I first laid eyes on those walls.
With a school friend visiting from Australia, I wanted to go somewhere elegant for lunch. You see, we’re ladies now, and our tastes have matured as well. Gone are the days when we use to go to the movies on Tuesdays after school (Tuesdays was, and still is, movie discount day in Sydney) and then head to Pizza Hut for $5 all-you-can-eat pizza afterwards. And besides, we needed a nice venue for somewhere to catch up. School friends are a unique breed – they’ve seen you through all the trials and tribulations of growing up, been there through the first schoolboy crush, picked you up after the first heartbreak (and of course stressed with you through all the exams). So there was much to gossip about as I was desperate to get all the latest on love, work and life in general.
Another school friend who now lives in Bristol joined us, so we were three. I chose Lutyens which is named after Edwin Lutyens, the British architect who designed the building in which the restaurant is housed. Lutyens is the new Conran showpiece on Fleet Street, so if you thought that the great maestro was retiring after selling his dining group to D&D London in 2006, then it’s obvious that this is not the case. Two restaurant openings in one year (the other was Boundary) and he looks like he’s on a mission to take the London dining scene by storm again. But Lutyens is more than just a restaurant which seats 130 people. Opening on Monday 29 June and located in the former Reuters building, it features a bar, a charcuterie counter, a crustacean and sushi bar, a members club and 4 private dining and meeting rooms.
She’s not a professional restaurant critic, but she's spent a lot of time dining out at restaurants. In fact, she’s very, very good at eating, and consistently so. At the end of each restaurant review, she will provide a ratings guide that summarises her opinion on the quality of the food and service out of ten.
Key to ratings guide:
10 – Perfect
9 – Exceptional
8 – Excellent
7 – Very good
6 – Good
5 – Average
4 – Bad
3 – Very bad
2 – Dire
1 – Why bother?