Berners Tavern: Veni, Vidi, Vici?

Empires are funny things to us iPad-owning, European Union, One Direction, generation. Which, funnily enough, all represent an empire of sorts. Empire in traditional command & conquer, "do you have a flag?" meaning; is so remote to us that the brutality and suffering they perpetuated seems almost fiction. Empires are spoken of with some nostalgic pride in the UK, a great force now spent and rendered to the annals of history. While eschewing evidence that immigrants bring added value to us, while also conveniently forgetting we asked a lot of them to come in the first place, we are content to think that we were merely benevolent dictators. We bestowed upon them a parliament, democracy, cricket, medicines, road and railways. We even gave* them our religion (*ahem).

Ribstock 2013: A whole lotta BBQ! We aren't in Kansas anymore.

Now from the title of my blog and if you follow me on twitter, the types of pictures I regularly post, I am a big meat eater. 800g steak, no problem. Rack of ribs and a side of brisket, done. Steaks, pork belly, lamb chops - anything with a heartbeat. I am always drawn the the slow cooked meaty ragu, off-cuts or big, bold meaty dishes in any menu. Naturally then BBQ is a deep abiding love of mine. It hits all the notes that satisfy my cravings, eating truly great BBQ with its flame licked crisp edges, succulent meat and lashings of sauce dripping down your chin, it's as close to a sensual experience with your clothes still on. Plus what sad bastards cook only veggies on a BBQ? Veggie-free zone. Heaven.

When Ribstock 2012 popped up I was only just getting involved with the whole London foodie scene and sadly I was out of London so missed it. This year I was determined to make it but when it was announced I was a little shocked by the price and more so by the fact it was double last year. That said, Tweat-up were upfront and honest with their reasons and we as customers have to respect that ultimately, this is a business. No one likes hosting backyard BBQs for friends only for them to show up with no alcohol and leaving you out of pocket and all the washing up.

Ribstock Crews (Pic courtesy of Mulia)

Alba: Unfortunately Forgettable

Just that morning my flatmate was asking about reasonably priced Italian places in London. I was racking my brain, at half past eight in the morning refused to work. Bocco di Lupo, Locanda Locatelli, L'Anima? All bit OTT for your average Londoner in search of a better-than-average bruschetta. Polpo and Trullo probably comes closest but one doesn't take reservations, and at the other trying to get a table at a time approaching normality is a rarity. Plus, Islington is a right slog for us staunch Southeners. 

So then, that night I was meeting my father for our usual father-son catch-up dinner and he had booked Alba in Clerkenwell. A quick peruse of the menu showed it to be a mid-priced Italian jobbie with underwhelming choices. My hopes were that the quality of the ingredients would gild the otherwise unimpressive lily. Unfortunately my instinctive apprehension was well placed as it proved to be correct as the food was simply rather forgettable and the interior was a little lacking in style and seemed a little dated. There were several tables of elderly folk tucking into the set menu. I'm not one to bash the elderly, but a general rule of thumb is that if a restaurant has a large number of them, the food is often less than inspiring.

Yauatcha: How Not to Treat A Customer

Food blogs are funny things. Ultimately it is just one person's snapshot view of a restaurant. What would bring you to read my views on a restaurant you may well never visit? I guess like all critics, as a s/he is read more and more, the reader compares it with their own experiences and they learn to trust the critic's opinion, or not. They may also come for the writing, or they may even come to satisfy their raging food-porn obsession if the blogger has spent a suitably grotesque amount of money on the latest SLR wonder box of tricks. Did you SEE the bokeh on those?!

Food critics for the New York Times have rules about the number of times they have to eat at a restaurant before they can review it. As to with the Michelin process. Too many times have I seen negative reviews because the kitchen sent a few bad plates out of the thousands that week. It may even have been the only bad plates to get through the pass all year. Nonetheless, bloggers often write up a scathing review and move on to the next terrified bastard holding everyone to Michelin levels. For things that are cheaper like burgers/street food, I will generally try to go several times before writing it up. I understand that everyone pays the same amount for each plate but if only 1% of the orders are duds then it is unfair to say the quality is poor if you’ve only been once and gotten unlucky.

The Green Man and French Horn: Gem of St. Martins

London has always felt a great amount of envy towards its culinary superpower across the channel. While the French sipped their cafe au lait and nibbled warm buttery croissants; Brits shoveled down ham and cheese toasties washed down with milky tea. We have always been defensive about our traditional cooking, the French usually guffawing at our attempts at bold flavours and delicate desserts. London has been hit by the food revolution and it seems we have more French restaurants than Paris. Typically, the market is skewed towards Café Rouges and Chez Gerards - serving over-cooked, toughened steak frites and pre-made deserts straight from the fridge. The top of the market is well-catered for by the Rouxs, Ducasses and Koffmans. What has been missing is the simple, passionate cooking reminiscent of the brasseries and auberges. Recently there have been some strides in the right direction such as Brasserie Zedel dominating the Piccadilly area. 

The Green Man and the French Horn is nestled down in St Martin in the Lanes, a stones throw from J.Sheekeys and Asia de Cuba with Le Garrick just round the corner. It's somewhere I've had had my eye on ever since reading The Perfect Trough's review. The venue was formerly a pub and it has the usual narrow entrance which makes for a slightly awkward wasted space. The interior isn't too far off some of the auberges of the Loire region, each table is different design and the plates seemingly odds and ends. This is a deliberate design plan, not a lack of money (the owners are behind Terroirs and Soif), however it still has a sense of charm. The ambiance suffered due to it being midday on a wet and cold January, but when full during a dinner service, it would undoubtedly be a cozy bolt-hole busy with chatter.

Kitchen Table: Bubbledogs&

An unplanned solo visit to KT @ Bubbledogs& last week gave me one of the most enjoyable meals in many years. A 6.30 start time and I walked through the already heavy queue waiting for their meaty oblongs-delights to the dismayed cry of "Why do people keep walking straight in?!"

KT has had some great press recently and the concept and the owner husband and wife team are well documented. What they are trying to achieve isn't a gimmick or even food theatre to some degree: it is a sense of collective enjoyment that both the chef and the customer receive through serving some of the highest quality food in London while feeling inherently connected with the whole process. Service was sharp and fluid, and high levels of engagement with James and genuine warmth of the staff were striking. Let me be clear, KT is not a Wolfgang Puck or Marcus Wareing meal; its a place to watch someone do what they love, and despite some initial (misplaced) nerves after opening, the venue has grown hugely in all areas.

James' expertise is in powerfully flavoured dishes and allowing the simplicity of ingredients to do the work. He also has a dizzying array of natural herbs. The only option at KT is a 12 course tasting menu, each dish focusing on one major ingredient which changes almost weekly, reflecting both the chef's wide imagination and obsession with near-perfect quality ingredients. James would come over and explain each dish and was more than happy to discuss provenance and his thoughts behind each dish.

The Kitchen.

The menu

Bibendum: A Kensington Institution

Punchline: Classy French food in beautiful setting, all without breaking the bank.

A lot has been said about Bibendum recently with visits from several notable bloggers. I thought I'd swing by an area I dont usually frequent for a look. 

Everyone knows of the beautiful former Michelin building, the 25 year history and the Hopkinson legacy. New management has kept up appearances really rather well, and although it may no longer be the jewel in Kensington's crown; it has carved itself a niche as serving top-quality French cuisine at seemingly the same prices that Hopkinson charged in the 1990's. The wine list (or should that read tome) is impressive and makes this reviewer long for a pay-rise. After all, nunc est bibendum.

Saturday lunchtime with the better half involved their weekend set menu. 3 courses for £30 (12.5% tip added on) with an impressive selection of dishes available. Dinner menus look as ever more extravagant but a weekend lunchtime treat is a good a yardstick as any.