Secret Stockwell Portuguese

Eating out in London can be pricey business – especially if you want quality food, plentiful quantities and nice wine. That's why Time Out's Cheap Eats section is so popular, people queue for hours, sometimes, for some bargainous and delicious lamb chops at Tayyabs. So if I told you about a basement Portuguese restaurant would do you the biggest meal you could imagine, meat, salad, sides, and lots of glorious red wine for £17, you'd think I was pulling your leg, right?

Well, I'm not, but it's so good I'm not going to broadcast here for the googles. I'll tell you about how excellent it is and get in touch if you want the details.

First up, like most cheap eats, don't bother if you want flashy décor, starched tabe cloths and subtle service. We're talking the basement of a shop on a main road in Stockwell. It's canteen like, paper table cloths, charmingly shabby and folksy, and, as is quite traditional for your workaday Portuguese joint, television mounted to the ceiling and on. But unlike many of London's cheap eats, you won't be rushed, table turned and the service is warm and generous.

I was running late so I didn't see whether there was a menu. I suspect there wasn't, and my friend Moira, who lives around the corner and whose Portuguese friends introduced her to the joint, just spoke to the waiter and he said what was available that day. Standard portuguese fare is quite simple – focused on meat, fish, potatoes and greens, all delicious for its freshness and the quality of the olive oil used.

The spread we ordered, between the seven of us, involved two plates of chips, a MASSIVE plate of salad, deep fried madeiran maize and herb cakes – bit like polenta, two sea bass and two hefty long skewers of flavoursome chunks of lamb which had been grilled.

The lamb hung on skewers from the ceiling and the waiter stuck a piece of bread at the bottom of the skewer to soak up all the meat's juice. The lamb was medium rare, but crispy and charred on the outside and so succulent, and just simply seasoned in salt and pepper and maybe a bit of paprika and garlic. It reminded me of distant memories of barbecues with family friends in Portugal, all that smoke and delicious meat.

The fish was, true to form, amazingly fresh. Just plainly presented with lemon, it was perfect with chips and salad. I've had so many meals in Portugal as simple as that, sat by the Atlantic and eating fish fresh out of it. This was up there with the best, although I'd have paid a bit more to be transported to having a seaview in Sesimbra.

There were no puddings, but when we asked about the other food they served, the waiter brought us a bowl of pearl barley soup to give us a taste of what else they did. And the wine was just astounding for the price. Even if I wasn't half Portuguese I'd still say Portuguese wine is some of the best in the world, once you've steered away from the Mateus Rose. Our red was bold and rich, and the quality surprised by not-yet-induced-into-the-world-of-Portuguese-wine-friends - we got through a good four bottles of it.

So yes, all that for £17 a head between the seven of us. I challenge you to find better value high quality food and wine in London. So if you're keen to go yourself, drop me a line on robbie(dot)desantos(at)gmail(dot)com

A new-ish Jew-ish deli

I went to Katz's deli in New York many moons ago. My trusty guidebook informed me the sandwiches featured in 'that moment' in the film When Harry Met Sally, a film I hadn't seen. Tucking into the thick stuffed pastrami sandwich, it didn't take long to figure out what 'that moment' entailed. Pastrami wasn't something I'd given much thought to before that moment, but after that I've been looking for preserved meat hits to satisfy my cravings.

Mishkins, the newish opening in Covent Garden from Russell Norman of Sputino/Polpo etc fame, really hit the mark with it's pastrami. Wow. It describes itself as a "kind of Jewish deli" and the décor is believable, and the vibe isn't as scene-y and showy as its Soho stable mates. The menu is classic Jewish comfort food - combined with sour gin cocktails, perfect for the drab weather we've been having.

I'd been snacking heavily at work (poor form) so we had to do comfort food-lite. We kicked off by sharing a plate of latkes (grated potato pancake), smoked trout, thinly sliced tangy beetroot and fiery horseradish cream. An absolutely perfect combination of flavours - what more can you say? The beetroot was a great texture, slightly chewy and I can't get enough of smoked trout.



For mains we both shared the Reuben sandwich and mac'n'cheese. Mac'n'cheese is one of those dishes I'm generally not inclined to eat out; it's a dish I can do quite well myself and there's something silly about paying £9 for pasta and white sauce. But it was worth it - totally buttery, not too cheesy (no heaps of dyed orange mild cheddar) but rich, and a lovely crispy, crumbly topping. We were circling our fingers round the skillet soaking up every last bit of juice.



And the Reuben, it was really excellent. Juicy juicy pastrami (my dining partner texted a week later saying she was still thinking about it), thickly sliced and generously stuffed between two pieces of lightly toasted rye bread, topped with swiss chesse and a layer of sauerkraut-y Russian dressing. Again, the flavours worked perfectly together.

The cocktails were great - short and strong. Mine, a Negroni, lovely and bitter with all the Campari. Our dessert, a warm cookie and ice cream was unremarkable, but nice.



Overall, it's a thumbs up from me. I'll be back, mostly to eat endless Reuben sandwiches, and to explore more of their menu (Hello lamb and pistachio meatballs!). And more gin cocktails.

Finger lickin' happiness

I always find it strange when people who know me quite well assume I'm a vegetarian. I mean, I do live close to Stoke Newington, and I am very nice. But have you never heard me rave about meat? I was eating ribs for the second time this week, this time at my desk in the office, and a colleague suggested I might not be keen on them. Obviously they didn't hear me gushing about my trip to Pitt Cue Co on Monday. It was so good that I am going to rave about it here again, and there it is, immortalised on the interwebs.

Pitt Cue Co is the latest in a series of street food type outlets that have been so successful on the streets that they have made it onto permanent premises. MeatLiquor, of course, recently opened in the West End after building up a dedicated following in SE London and elsewhere. Lucky Chip, my personal favourite burger joint, is straddling the gap with a residency in the newly rejuvenated Sebright Arms. And now Pitt Cue Co has opened a dinky little place in a Soho backwater. As with all the best hyped places, demand massively outstrips supply and so getting there early and queueing is absolutely necessary.

We arrived at 6.30 on a Monday and waited about 45 minutes for a table (we could have had a stool after 25). But happily, we were in the cosy bar at ground level and cocktails and craft beers were on the menu. I opted for a delicious New York Sours, expertly mixed. Downstairs there can't be more than 20 seats, all intimately arranged, but enough room to get those elbows out and pick up some sticky ribs.

The menu is simple - there are St Louis ribs, beef ribs, pulled pork and a couple of daily specials. You can have them on a plate with pickles, chipotle slaw, and a side. Or you can have your meat in a roll. And there are other sides, such as spicy chicken wings, or duck hearts with pomegranate. I opted for the St Louis ribs with a side of mash with burnt ends - my dining parnter had a pulled pork roll, and we shared a side of the spicy chicken wings with pickled celery.

My main was just delicious - the ribs were lightly smoky from their long, slow, pitt-smoked cook, and came in a sticky, smoky sauce. The meat was unbelievably tender, and just a little pungent, as ribs should be. The chipotle in the slaw was subtle, but the mash was king of the sides, so so buttery and the burnt ends (the fatty, crispy ends of a smoked brisket) were so so sweet, salty and sticky. Just wonderful.





The wings too were nice - also slightly smoky (hey, they're not cooked on a smoke pit for nothing!) and in a warm, tomato sauce. The pickled celery went well with it.



So you might be thinking we'd be full by this point? I mean, we really ought to be. But you don't wait 45 minutes for a table just for one course. There were two desserts on that day - a snickers mess, and bourbon soaked sticky toffee pudding, with salted caramel sauce and amaretto ice cream. Of course we went for one of each.

The snickers mess was just the ultimate in excess. At the bottom a gooey chocolatey peanut meringue, then with lots of chocolate sauce, cream, caramel sauce, peanut brittle, ice cream. The combined effect was utter artery clogging pleasure. The sticky toffee pudding, more conventional, was equally delicious. The bourbon soaking gave the sponge a nice aromatic richness, perfectly complemented by the salted caramel sauce and the dreamy amaretto ice cream. I'd tell my vegetarian friends to queue up just for desserts. That good.



So Pitt Cue is truly the best meal I've had in 2012 so far. Oh, and did I mention it was about £26 per person all in, with all that food and a cocktail each? I'll be going back for sure. And I recommend you get there early with an empty stomach to make the most of it.

A little slice of Moro

In general trend terms, I reckon I'm about 8 – 12 months behind the zeitgeist chasers, and probably an equal timescale ahead of the average joe. I didn't make it to #meateasy until its closing week, I still haven't been to Polpo or Hawksmoor. I loved the sound of Morito, but it had been glowingly reviewed in Metro, Time Out and the Guardian and the prospect of a 2 hour wait didn't quite appeal.

Now, Morito, as its diminutive name suggests is the little sibling of Moro - the Exmouth Market classic that has been bringing us the most delicious Spanish/North African/Middle Eastern inspired food for many years. I went there a few years ago and still salivate at the thought of that meal. But, unlike big sis, you can only walk-in in the evenings to Morito - no reservations or nuffin.

So I waited about a year and finally got to go to Morito a few weeks back with some chums from work. Chums who appreciate damn good food and sherry. Waiting a year has the benefits of not having to wait 2 hours for a table on the night - we waltzed in at 7 and took a neat table for four.

We kicked off with a glass of fino each - I had a crisp Manzanilla, reminiscing about my recent trip to Andalucia and tasting those salty sea breezes off it. Our first round consisted of jamon croquettes (so moist and flavoursome inside, perfectly crisp outside), a zingy chickpea salad, aubergine purée topped with dry aromatic lamb and pomegranate seeds (oh.my.god - this was amazing - one to recreate at home).

Next up we ordered a deep Portuguese red, accompanied by chickpea stew with chorizo and morcilla (tender and nicely pungent), cured cuttlefish roe (very delicate, fresh and tasting like a mouthful of sea), pimentos padron (nobody I know has ever been served a mega spicy one - is it urban legend?), and molten cheese with quince and walnuts (perfect combination - earthy walnuts, greasy and salty warm cheese and sweet and tangy quince - I could have eaten this forever).

The atmosphere was buzzy, clientelle were quite Clerkenwell (thick rimmed glasses ahoy, but hey, who am I to talk), and the service efficient but warm, with no sense of us being hurried despite it being quite a busy night later on. 

So the wait paid off, but I'm already kicking myself for how many times I could have visited if I'd tried and loved early on. Numerous publications inform me that Peruvian food is so 2012, and that March will see two Peruvian joints opening in London. This time I'll be reporting from the frontline - no more missing out!

Going Greek

I'd love to chart every cuisine served within 2 miles of my flat. It'd be a fun exercise - and may help focus my efforts on local eating out. A project for a rainy winter's day perhaps?

What I find most interesting is thinking how the age and cuisine of restaurants can reflect waves and patterns of immigration, as well as different food fads. Blackstock Road, not too far away, and on my old route to work, is a scruffy, ungentrifiable strip, and host to many different communities at different points over the last fifty years. There's a little patch, half way between Finsbury Park and Highbury Barn, where there is a collection of rustic, but bright Sardinian trattorias, a pre-Wahaca-and-burrito-fetish-era Mexican restaurant, and a drab and austere-looking Greek taverna. I like that the patch is completely understated, without any of the hype and crowding of Upper Street or Church Street. It's a locals' spot.

With the nights long, the wind blowing cold and warm sun a distant memory, Greek food couldn't be more appealing. Greek restaurants are too often shrouded in the clichés of plate-smashing, belly dancing and ouzo shots; sometimes you just want to have some mezze and souvlaki without all that fuss. I'd never cycled past N5's Olive Tree and seen hen or stag parties, and a bit of googling found a few glowing reviews from proud locals.

Inside, there's a sense that it's been there since the 1970s (it's not - more like late 90s) - slightly austere green, plain walls, starched table cloths, a bit of cladding by the kitchen. It's a family affair, and at least three generations seem to be involved in front of house, kitchen and management. All very nice and keen to please you. We had superb banter with the waitress who I guess was about our age and told us that we reminded her of someone very clever from a TV show we hadn't heard of, and how excited she was to get off her shift and out some make-up on.

The menu offered a fair priced a la carte with a wide range of Greek meals and grills. But there's a set menu which seems to be available most of the time (including Friday and Saturday nights) which does 3 very decent courses for £10.90. It's mostly the classics - very well made dips and gorgeous pita breads, mains of moussaka, haloumi, baked aubergines and some more basic grilled meats, and a small selection of desserts (greek yoghurt and honey, honey cake with ice cream).

We opted for the set menu, doing a bit of topping up from the a la carte. And got a bottle of pretty nice white wine too. The dips and starters were really good - top houmous and reminded me of the differences between the Greek and more Middle Eastern versions.



I ended up opting for moussaka - an old favourite and something I'm rarely motivated to cook (too many stages, too many pots) and was very pleased, nothing to fault with it's creamy cheesy top, the olive oil soaked potatoes and aubergines or the aromatic lamb mince. Portions were very generous, and we over-ordered by getting a large Greek salad to go with the mains. A doggy bag for lunch the next day.





Overall, the Olive Tree was great for a hearty taste of Greece, decent, good-value portions and warm and homely service. Sure, it's not going to win any Michelin stars for innovative cooking, but what an excellent neighbourhood spot for a no-fuss, honest Greek meal.

Small plates make me hungry

Continuing the theme of small plates (and I even did a tapas evening for friends on Saturday), I wanted to make note of the delicious meal I had at Opera Tavern, on the day I booked my trip to Spain. The Opera Tavern is the sister restaurant of the more well known Salt Yard, and they both specialise in tapas or small plates from Italy and Spain. Getting a table at a few day's notice was tricky - an online booking system makes it all the easier for everyone else to get in there, so we ended up with a very un-Mediteranean 6.15 start time.

The menu covers a range of cured meats, meat off the grill and fish, vegetable and meat based small plates. We staggered our order, savouring a small amount of flavours, musing and then ordering a couple more. First up was a chorizo and squid skewer topped with a tangy pomegranate seeds, cucumber and green tomato relish. The chorizo was clearly top notch and, chargrilled, went perfectly with the meaty squid. Very good.



This was followed by more squid, however, this time as battered rings with battered purslane too. It was my first purslane and a totally new taste, very salty and somewhere between seaweed and spinach.



After all that protein, we craved vegetables. A super green broad bean, tenderstem broccoli, gnocchi and pesto small plate was incredible. The pesto was particuarly fragrant and sweet, and every last spot was mopped up.



I'm a sucker for courgette flowers (and that's all my courgette plants were good for this summer - not the end of the world, seeing as they cost £3 a flower from Borough market) and particularly enjoyed Opera Tavern's, which left the flower attached to the baby courgette and was stuffed with a light, smooth goats cheese and drizzled in honey. Classic combination.



After a board of impeccable quality sliced chorizo, we climaxed on the Opera Tavern's most famous, and perhaps most unlikely dis - the Iberico pork and foie gras burger. It's a diminutive dish, but packed full of rich flavours, a velvety bite, and a perfectly formed little brioche bun. I ate it as slowly as I could, appreciating every last bite interceded by meat, bun, cheese and caramelised onions. Mmm.



We finished on a little plate of truffles, biscotti and a glass of dessert wine. Classy.

I'd definitely recommend Opera Tavern for the food, and it's possible to have a not-too-pricey meal there, although it's definitely in the 'treats' category. Atmosphere-wise, we were in the dining room on the 1st floor, and it was busy without being buzzy. The clientèle were clearly quite well off, but I didn't notice anyone as excited about the food as I was. Maybe that's what it is to be classy, eh?

Tom's Victorian Chop House

I had an overnight in Manchester with work last week. I really like Manchester, even though I only ever seem to go there on work duties. The last couple of times had been political party conferences, and the town is swamped with politicos, lobbyists, the media and party members. When I've had a free evening I've always tried to slip away from the throng of conference and find the beating heart of the city. Luckily, that wasn't too hard and I've been to some characterful (and bargainous) curry houses in the Northern Quarter, a basement Armenian restaurant and some fun bars and pubs.

This time I was on my own (no lobbyists for company!) and keen to try out some more of Manchester's dining options. I opted for the institution that is Tom's Chop House, a traditional north western restaurant/pub in the centre of the town, after lots of positive words from friends who've been there. It's all Victorian splendour inside: tiled floors, dark wood panelling on the walls, and lots of nice antique furniture. The waiting staff sensitively tucked me in a corner (slight look of sympathy when I asked for my "Table for one"!) with a good view of the restaurant and bar.



My first course was brown onion soup. It was very close to French onion soup (which I love), rich and deep flavours, the sweetness of the slow-cooked onions and the saltiness of the stock. Also like its French counterpart, it was served with a cheese crouton, although it was mature cheddar rather than gruyère. Really nice.



For my main I had a Lancashire beefsteak casserole with root veg and a dumpling. I do love a dumpling, and the casserole was utterly perfect. Really subtle but effective use of herbs and a good stock made the sauce delicious, while the meat itself was incredibly tender and clearly good quality.



The wine list was really expansive and not too expensive, but you could get some really nice stuff by the glass too. I opted for a glass of Borsao Garnacha Tinto, which matched the food perfectly. I was very full and the restaurant was getting busy with loud and happy Mancunians coming in to celebrate birthdays and catch up with long-time-no-seen friends. I ducked away from the chorus of 'I'll have a large Pinot Grigio!' to retire to my Travelodge and get on with some studying. But I was very happy to have experienced a slab of old skool Mancunian tradition on my one night there.

Brunchin' brunchin' #1

If my Berlin days taught me anything, it's this: brunch should be the king of all meals. If there's any way of spending your precious weekend days in more joy, let me know. But I can't imagine anything better than gathering some friends together and having good coffee, warm food, fresh juice, reading weekend papers and having a good natter. I've blogged brunch before, but I've always got space for more and want to share some recent favourites:

Lantana is a fairly new Australian brunch joint in Fitzrovia, just off Goodge Street. This means, crucially, that they get good coffee, chilled vibes and a fresh approach to a warm breakfast. I went one Sunday, meeting a doctor friend just coming off a nightshift at UCH. For her it was the end of a long day, for the rest of us it was the just the start. But for all of us, the coffee (flat white, why not?!) was excellent.



I had corn and herb fritters, topped with slow cooked garlicky tomato salsa, sweetcure bacon, creme fraiche with a twist of lime and a rocket salad. So so yummy, fresh, tangy and sweet all in one. Fritters are an utilised medium for the carb - stuffed full of herby flavours, they were a great earthy base for the fresh flavours on top.



One friend had scrambled egg with smoked salmon and fresh herbs, and the other (sweet toothed) opted for brioche french toast with poached pears and ricotta. I did swapsies for a bite of both: delicious. I tend to always go for a savoury brunch though, as amazing as a sweet french toast is. We all liked the Mediterranean flavours with a twist of antipodean zing.



Lantana is popular - we arrived just after 10am, and by 10.30 there were quite a few people waiting for tables. The early bird catches the worm, even if it defeats the point of brunch.

A hop over to Berlin

Between finishing my last job and starting the new one, I paid Elizabeth in Berlin a quick visit. Eliz and I moved to Berlin about the same time in 2005 and got to know each other through our love of music and the music blogs we both wrote, commenting on the indie scene in Berlin. I moved back to London after a year to finish my studies, but Eliz stayed on and has a super Berlin life and a super Berlin dog, Pip.

When I lived in Berlin I was an Erasmus student, living off a tidy EU stipend and a London level student loan, going to classes at Humboldt university by day and gigs, bars and restaurants with friends almost every evening. As students, we were most interested in good cheap eats and honed in on a handful of dependable restaurants - a 3€ Thai in Prenzlauer Berg, the "punk" pizzeria at Senefelder platz and many of Berlin's ubiquitous kebab shops. Treatsies was at Gugelhof, an informal but exsquisite restaurant specialising in the food and wine of Alsace. It was here that Chancellor Schroeder took Bill Clinton for dinner when he was in Berlin, don't you know!

With a few exceptions, eating out in Berlin back then was good but not super amazing. But now a foodie revolution is happening and Berlin's eating out offer is better than ever. I stayed with Eliz in Kreuzberg, and within 5 minutes walk there are Mexican taqueira offering what American friends are calling "the best Mexican food I've had outside north America", amazing cafes serving innovative twists on brunch. Supper clubs are popping up and some lovely neighbourhood tratorria have opened. Berlin really has it all!

The meal we had at Maria Peligro on Skalitzerstr was definitely one of the best Mexican meals I'd ever had. We started with margaritas, some of the most luscious guacamole ever and Sikil Pa´k, which is a dip made of pumpkin seeds and habanero chillis. It was super hot, with a sweet, sour and earthy taste.





For a main I had Tacos de Cochinita Pibil, which was shredded pork braised in sour achiote sauce and topped with pickled red onions. Big on the sours, the pork was so tender and the corn tortillas were substantial and soft and definitely homemade. Way, way beyond your run of the mill tex mex that's for sure. Other punters were also very happy with their selections. There are two other restaurants by the same owners in Berlin, but each one comes from a different angle on Mexican cuisine. Just take a butchers at the menu and try not to salivate.

A Vietnamese lunch in Neukoelln with Zara was also super, piled high with fresh ingredients and zingy and spicy. At €5, it gave Monsieur Voung, it's more upmarket rival in Mitte, a run for its money. With just three dishes on the menu for lunch, it was definitely quality over quantity.



But a trip to Berlin ain't complete without some bratwurst, and after a surprisingly unsuccessful trip to Mauer Park fleamarket, we tucked into some warming sausage while we enjoyed the bizarre cult spectacle of stadium-scale outdoor karaoke, munching and swaying along to 80s power ballads sung by Spanish students. Super.



But when I'm in Berlin, it's all about Elizabeth's home cooking. Brunch is a favourite and Eliz makes the best scrambled eggs. I reckon it's all down to the slow-cooking of whole garlic cloves before the eggs even get a look in. Followed by pear-filled mini pancakes, that's you properly set up for the day.



Homeburgers on my first night before a marathon night dancing til 6.30am at White Trash Fast Food were delicious and had Pip sniffing the air jealously as the grown ups tucked in.



Thanks Elizabeth for a super Berlintime. If any readers are going to Berlin and want any further recommendations, just drop me a line!

Sunday slackers

I've had a total slacker's weekend, drifting between cafes, restaurants and bars in Dalston, meeting up with friends and enjoying the fine weather. A perky black coffee at Cafe Oto, a trans-African lunch at Open the Gate, the new Black Cultural Centre that has just opened, and then a gorgeously creamy ice coffee at Tina, We Salute You at the end of my road.

But I'll focus on Open the Gate, as neither Tina and Oto ever seem to have any difficulty attracting paying punters in for their delectable cakes and coffees. Open the Gate opened earlier in the summer on Stoke Newington Road just up from the main conglomeration of Turkish ocakbasi restaurants. By day it is a big, bright open space, with more formal dining tables, a more laid back cafe area and a big performance space. African fabrics adorn the walls and ceilings, while the menu celebrates cuisines from all parts of Africa, the Caribbean and even Italy!

We were hungry hippos and ordered full meals, with roasted sweetcorn kernels and friend plantain chips as sides. I had Mafe, which is a West African beef and peanut butter stew. It was rich and nutty, the beef was generous and flavoursome, and was served with a nice crisp salad:



All very good for £5! The girls each opted for Chicken Yassa and the boys for a vegetarian cous cous dish. The Yassa was a sweet and smoky grilled chicken portion that must be running the nearby Nandos scared. The vegetables were stewed and included cabbage and carrots, and were probably the least exciting option, but, hey, veggies can't be choosers.



Coupled with the plantain chips and other snacks, we were all a bit stuffed. It was great to be able to sample dishes from around Africa and the Caribbean, even though the menu might be a little tame and geared at newbies like us. But clocking in at £8 each including a tip, it's good for a cheap and easy lunch.

I hope Open the Gate does well - they are making a lot of effort with their programme, which has everything from poetry readings to African markets, world music to art exhibitions. Dalston is increasingly associated with braying trustafarian hipsters, when its real magic is that people of all walks of life live together and you can dip in and out of cultures from one shop/cafe/restaurant/market stall to the next. Portholes into whole 'nother worlds like this are what separates Dalston apart from London's other young and trendy playgrounds.

A barbecue for the British summer

My friend Celia and I are on a joint culinary mission. I'm not sure quite what our aim is, but it involves regular dinner dates in central London trying new and interesting restaurants and finding out about cuisines previously unbeknown to us. This week we checked out Koba, a slick and shiny Korean restaurant in Ftizrovia (or, aspirationally, NoHo), my old stomping ground from when I was studying at nearby UCL.

Celia had acquainted herself with the Bibimbap style of Korean food when she stayed in New York, but I was a total newcomer to the cuisine. Koba serves a range of Korean food, including rice and noodle dishes; its speciality, though, is barbecue. Every table has a gas fired hot plate in its centre, and after we had a tasty miso soup, they fired our grill up.



You could order individual selections of meat (including strips of ox tongue!), fish and vegetables to cook on the barbecue, and there are a range of assorted selections too. We opted for the Koba special selection, which included thin strips of pork belly, baby octopus, prawns, beef, marinaded sweet and spicy chicken, and a spare rib.



Sensing that we were novices (and that I have poor motor skills!), the waiters tended to the barbecue in between serving other tables and showed us how to prepare the food. So once a piece of meat or fish is ready, you take it off the grill, dip in some sesame oil, place it in the middle of a leaf, top it with some thin strips of pickled cucumber and then add some spicy bean/peanut satay-like sauce, before rolling the rest of the lettuce leaf around it and eating it like an interesting relative of the dolmades.



The combination was delicious - the smokiness of the meat, the sourness of the pickle, the earthiness of the peanut sauce and the crisp, greenness of the lettuce leaf. The ritual of preparing each item meant there was build up and anticipation and each mouthful stood out.

While it was delicious, novel and fun, it definitely was more of a 'treat' meal at £25 a head. But there were plenty of cheaper things on the menu. Interesting to note that age old benchmark of an authentic eatery - we were some of the only non-Koreans there, so it's a sure sign that Koba offers a taste of modern Korean cuisine if you fancy it!

Dim sum ...and then some...

I do love dim sum - those novel little packages of flavours, the ceremony of sharing dishes, the antiquity of the bamboo containers, the ritual of chopsticks, tea and soy sauce, celebrating each morsel for what it is. Yum.

China Town in central London is the obvious place to have a tasty dim sum meal, and places like New World are a fun experience, with waiting staffing pushing round trolleys coming round with dim sum offerings. Like an old school Yo Sushi. But there's dim sum life outside WC2 and in the last couple of months I have had some excellent dim sum at Yum Cha in Chalk Farm and Shanghai down the road in Dalston.

I went to Yum Cha on a warm Saturday evening before heading to a gig nearby. We had the most tender spare ribs in a rich mandarin sauce, juicy deep fried squid, prawn and pork dumblings, steamed honey roast pork bun, chicken shrimp and rice wrapped and steamed in a lotus leaf. All were fresh and authentic, and very good value for money when the bill came in at £11 each including a beer.







Yum Cha is quite a big place and wasn't too busy, considering that it's slap bang in the middle of Camden Town and is very affordable. If you live in the area, they do dim sum delivery - a novel concept.

For Pete's birthday I took him out for a dim sum lunch at Shanghai on Kingsland High Street in Dalston. We rocked up at about half two on a bustling Saturday afternoon, the main road brimming with all walks of life and the extremists: extreme hipsters, extreme evangelists, extreme Communists. Shanghai, a former eel, pie and mash shop is all tiled walls and tiled floors - a hangover from when Hackney was the main domain of the Cockneys. Some of the tables are in benches and booths in that front section, but the majority of the restaurant is in a fairly traditional parlour style restaurant with chintzy décor and linen table cloths.

The dim sum was totally top notch. We had fried cuttlefish and coriander cakes, which were salty, juicy and chewy in perfect proportions and served with a shallow dish of broth for dipping. The chicken spring rolls had real, discernible (!) bits of chicken and were packed full of tasty bits. Steamed buns with barbecued pork were soft, fluffy and then sticky in the middle and very satisfying, and the steamed dumplings (vegetable dumplings in carrot juice pastry, crystal prawn dumplings, steamed minced meat & chive dumplings) were also perfectly formed and flavoured.





The bill was a scandalously good value £18 for six dim sum portion, drinks and service. And there are savings to be had if you go for dim sum between 3 - 5pm, even on weekends. Utterly scandalous for such delicious food. Being just 10 minutes walk from my flat, I know I'm going to be a regular diner at Shanghai!

Sizzling spice and all things nice

Even blogging about making curry was enough to make me hungry for Tayyabs, the Punjabi curry house in Whitechapel. So, with a friend down from Glasgow last weekend, we duly paid a visit.

Tayyabs is known for its sizzling slabs of spicy meat, its bargainous prices, its loud and buzzy atosphere and the fact that you are likely to have to queue for about an hour on a weekend evening for a table. We arrived at 7.30pm on a Sunday and were amazed to find the queue was only half its Friday/Saturday length - with only 30 minutes before we were sat at a table. The queue still snakes around the tables and you can watch the diners faces light up with ecstasy as spitting plates of meat and other chargrilled goodies waft past. Tables of students, families, older couples, city workers and multiple generations of Pakistani families are all united by the democratic pricing and prospect of amazing food.



We started with lamb chops and grilled paneer. The lamb chops were sizzling, spitting and giving off the most amazing smell. The meat was crispy and hot on the outside and beautifully tender inside. They brought out the animal in me as I picked them up and gnawed at them to get every last bit of meat off the bone. The paneer was for our vegetarian co-diner, but us meat-feasters shared a cube of it, which was also delicious.



The main courses followed in quick succession. Despite Tayyabs being a palace of meat, I opted to have the baby squash dish, Tinder Masala. The pieces of squash are tender and juicy and the sauce is powerfully spicy, fruity and rich and topped with delicious caremalised onions. Others had Lahori Chickar Chana, a chick pea curry, and Karahi Chicken. I obviously wangled myself a generous taster of each - all were amazing.



Almost the best bit, though, is the naan breads. We each had peshwari naan (rice, however well cooked, is a mere vessel) and boy are they something else. You can smell the butter on them from the other side of the restaurant and they are so soft, spongy, fruity. Wow. I could eat them for every meal, for every day of the rest of my life (which may be significantly shortened by their butter quotient!).

We ate until we could eat no more, and then some. And exited very happy into the warm sunset bathed streets of Whitechapel to take the newly opened East London Line back to Dalston. I have such a long list of restaurants that I want to try, which makes it hard to justify visits to the same places over and over again. But when the food and experience is as fantastic at Tayyabs, I'm prepared to make an exception.

Tayyabs is at:
83-89 Fieldgate Street
London
E1 1JU

Nearest tube is Aldgate East or Whitechapel.

Soho smoke pit

To celebrate the return of a good friend from a year in New York we went to none other than Bodean's, the all-American 'BBQ smoke house' that popped up in Soho just over a year ago. It's part of a mini-chain with a few other restaurants in London's 'aspirational' neighbourhoods (y'know...Clapham, Fulham, etc.) and was set-up to bring 'the taste, the style, the soul of the beloved Kansas City barbecue to London town'. Or so the story goes.

You enter into a the diner/deli upstairs, which is for more informal (m)eating - TV screens around the room show football games, people eat off trays with their eyes glued to the screens. With a purposefully dull yellow light and the sound of match commentators, it did actually feel like a scene out of some American movie. So early points for authenticity! We got a table in the downstairs restaurant, which is arranged as intimate booths and has a similar all-American vibe to upstairs.

We started with a nacho platter - which had that liquid nacho cheese on it, along with salsa and (squeezy) sour cream, jalapenos and guacamole.



I think generally I prefer real cheese and real sour cream, but maybe this is more authentic of the American experience? I don't know.

For my main course I had Burnt Ends, which are the succulent, charred end pieces of joints of meat (usually brisket) which have been cooked over a smoke pit. They were very juicy, smoky and tender from the cooking process. Served with fries and coleslaw it was a tasty, greasy and satisfying treat. We also enjoyed copious amounts of Bodean's own BBQ sauce, which was very tasty.



For Soho and considering the 'experience' atmosphere of Bodean's, it was a good value meal. The service. The service was good too - even though few of the staff were American, they embraced an all-American attitude to service, which helped complete the experience, although one of the waiter's was a little over attentive and kept popping up to see if we were still enjoying our meal (we were)! I don't have any other smoke pit experiences to compare this to, but I would definitely recommend Bodean's as a good starting point for London-based smoke-seekers.