The Barbarians in Moscow

It's been nearly three years since I moved to Moscow and stopped writing this blog. During our time here, the city has finally secured a place for itself on the gastronomic globe, with Varvary - The Barbarians - becoming the first ever Russian restaurant to make it into the world's Top 50 (sneaking in at number 49).



In many ways, the place is very typical of the Moscow dining scene, with over the top decor, a surly doorman and sky-high wine prices. We had booked a place on the balcony, but were told that the tasting menu would only be served indoors, as the strong wind and pukh* outside would ruin the delicate presentation.

Unusually though, Varvary takes pride in using local ingredients. This is a welcome change in a country where distant foreign imports are still the most prized, because local produce is considered to be of poor quality and people want to show that they can afford the best.

The 11 courses of the 8,500 roubles (190 pounds) "Gastronomic Show - Moscow Summer 2011" also had a distinct Russian flavour, showcasing such traditional, unglamorous ingredients as mayonnaise, dill and potato.



A good example of this was the appetiser, featuring "Real Russian Flavour" in the form of intense beetroot jelly on a sliver of black bread (remnants can be seen on the tablecloth in the photo!). On the same plate there was also sea buckthorn (a bitter, orange berry so beloved by Russians it even features as a toothpaste flavour) with curd cheese, shaped like the Japanese maki rolls that are omnipresent here; cream of broccoli with cod liver, and a herring mouse with sorrel and rocket -- a concoction of intense green, served in a beautiful egg-bottomed cup and possessing of a very sharp fishy flavour.



Next came the "oyster", the wittiest dish of the set. The flavour of the creature was separated from the traditional slippery texture and infused into a fragile green leaf, floating on a cloud of lemony foam in a silver spoon. The generously-sized oyster itself, on the other hand, was distinctly unoysterish, served baked under a parmesan crust in a very Russian sauce which the husband identified as warm mayonnaise.

Being a lady (ahem), I was then served the Spring Meadow -- a plate of green salad and fresh asparagus with steaming chunks of white truffle flavoured dry ice around a golden pond of a poached egg.

The manly alternative consisted of a shot of vodka and a plate of intense traditional beetroot soup, borsch, with a ball of dill-speckled sour cream which dramatically burst within moments of serving. Ironically, I preferred the borsch, while the husband was most taken with my salad!

There was generally a lot of soup on the menu -- gaspacho ice cream with lobster bisque was followed by langoustine soup with calmari essence, both nice enough but not spectacular and, together, overdoing the fishy liquid quotient of the meal.

A Russian-style dumpling (varenik) with succulent Kamchatka crab was a hands down favourite, with the quality ingredients shining through. Vareniki, or pelmini as their meat equivalents are known, will be probably the Russian food that I will miss the most, as they are cheap freezer staple for us on those too lazy/tired to cook evenings, though I am more used to them stuffed with non-descript meat than prime seafood.

The fish and meat main courses -- silver cod with peas and beans, and veal on the bone with pepper sauce -- were surprisingly simple, again allowing the quality ingredients to shine through. They were interspersed with potato with dill and red caviar, but alas by this stage the wine had started to kick in, and I can no longer recall how these traditional Russian staples were woven together. Restaurant blogging here seems all but non-exhistent, so google was of no help -- you'll just to have to go and check it out for yourself.

The meal finished off with a selection of honey-based dainties, followed by cute little pots of cream and jam and another potato - this one a chocolate cake-cum-sweet of Soviet childhood.

With a bottle and a half of one of the cheapest wines, the final bill rivalled our lunch in the Fat Duck. In terms of the food and the whole 'show', I would say Hesthon Blumenthal has nothing to worry about yet. But Varvary does offer the most interesting food I have tried in Moscow, while proving that Russian cooking can be turned into a cuisine.

Our time here is running out and London beckons again, so it's too late for me to start a Moscow blog, but I will do a write up of some of my favourite places here - watch this space.

Varvary, 8A, Strastnoy Boulevard, Moscow, Russia; Tel. +7(495) 229-28-00; http://www.anatolykomm.ru/Varvary



*Pukh is Russia's summer snow. In May and early June, the white fluff blows off poplar trees in Moscow's parks and boulevards, covering the streets and getting into everything from drinks to nostrils. The story goes that after the war, the powers that be wanted to make the city green as quickly as possible, and they chose the poplar as the fastest growing breed in the moderate climate. But in their hurry, they filled the streets with female trees, which produce the fluff (insert sexist joke), ensuring year round snow in the Russian capital.

Pearl

The "modern French" food is masterminded by TV-regular Jun Tanaka, and the name harks back to Pearl Assurance who once occupied the grand building in the heart of London's law district. Real pearls, though, are everywhere, hanging off the ceiling in jawdropping chandeliers.

Considering a single main course will normally set you back a whopping £31.50, the toptable three-courses-for-£30 seemed like a vertiable steal. But be careful, supplements and drinks will quickly inflate the bill.



I am surprised by my strarter of osso buco -- a Milanese dish of braised veal shanks -- which essentially came deep-fried. Still, the meat was tender and as a cheese-loved I quite enjoyed the addition of mozarella. The accompanying artichokes had an unpleasant pickled flavour though and the cold roasted peppers, though nice, tasted like they could have come from a posh jar.




My main course is also not really a winner, the tortellini are tiny, with little sign of the advertised parmesan, and the Swiss Chard turns out to be just an accompaniment rather than a filling. It's a bit bland and confirms my theory that you should steer clear of vegetarian food in expensive restaurants.



Others fare betters, sampling the sea Bream with clams, grapefruit vinaigrette wild leeks and samphire,



and a beautifully pink rump of salt marsh lamb with wild garlic and beans.



In the only desert we sample the dark chocolate contrasts beautifully with the slight tartness of raspberries. And, as all the food, it looks stunning on the plate.



The artisan cheeses come with a £6.50 supplement - a bit much when you only get six slivers from what is, admitedly, a very impressively burdened cheese trolley. We ask the sommelier to recommend a red wine for the cheese. His choice is quite dry and we are not that impressed - something fruitier, more full bodied might have gone better. We are even less impressed when the glasses appear on the bill at around 13 quid each, costing more than the champagne. They are not very gracious when we complain, but do remove one of the glasses from the (already quite hefty) bill.

It leaves a bit of a sour impression. Overall I would say the setting is stunning but taste-wise the food is merely good -- which at these prices isn't enough.

Pearl Restaurant & Bar, 252 High Holborn, WC1V 7EN; Tel. 020 7829 7000; Tube: Holborn; ww.pearl-restaurant.com

Bonds

The location: Smack bang in the middle of the city.

The spec: Modern European business lunches in a fairly formal setting.

The good: That someone else was paying. The delectable petit fours -- of those I sampled, one was intense with lemon, another gooey with chocolate... But then they did charge us an astonishing £4.95 each for coffees - does that make it the most expensive single espresso in Lonond?!

The disappointing: The food - largely because it had been recommended by colleagues, but also because my enjoyment of it was quite disproportionate to the hefty a la carte price tag.
The starter of "ravioli of native blue lobster and Aramgnac bisque" was merely OK -- one solitary pasta parcel, with a mouthful of non-blue-coloured lobster, sat a top a pool of seafoody tasting foam. For £14.95, I want more taste wow, and more food.
The slow cooked belly of pork (£17.95), to my huge disappointment, did not have a crispy skin. I struggled to finish it. The accompanying pearl barley was in a beigey sauce was OK, if a little odd, and I couldn't detect the advertised chorizo.

The verdict: Don't think I'll be back - there are better places near by.

Bonds, 5 Threadneedle Street, EC2R 8AY; Tel. 020 7657 8090; Tube: Bank

Beach Blanket Babylon

The reviews weren't exactly complimentary.
But the place looked stunning through the fancily decorated windows, and we had an hour and a half to kill until the live music kicked off at Loungelover around the corner, so we decided to give Beach Blanket Babylon a go.
If nothing else, we thought, we could spend the time sipping on cocktails while admiring the OTT decor and pondering as to the reasons for the bizarre name (on the latter, I am none the wiser after a visit to their website - anyone any ideas?).
While Loungelover and Les Trois Garcons (Did I really forget to review that place? Well, in a word, it was stunning.) are of the old-school grandeur, filled with things you might find in your granny's attic, the OTT-ness in BBB is all shiny, new and fake.


Still, it's quite something to look at and we had a good view from a rounded banquette table facing the room. We had time to spare, so decided to take it slowly with some cocktail aperitifs. The place wasn't exactly full but it took the waiter about 10 minutes to bring our tumblers of tap water. He re-appeared after about 5minutes later to take our food order, and brought some slices of dry, butterless bread after a further 5 minutes. We were still decidedly cocktail-less though, and starting to feel a bit miffed.
On his next visit, the waiter surprised us by bringing our main courses. But we'd ordered aperitifs, I protested. We wanted to have those first, then order some wine to go with the food. The waiter seemed to entirely miss the point, plonking the food on the table and saying that the cocktails won't be long.
It took several attempts on our part to persuade him that, no, we really did not want to be served the food just yet. Throughout there was no hint of an apology. Eventually he took it away, and brought the cocktails – a Purple Blanket and a Redcurrant and Thyme Martini (both at a not-too-unreasobale 7.90).


They were very pretty and tasted quite nice, I especially liked the red currants in my one even if I couldn't really taste the thyme. As soon as we'd taken the last sip the waiter re-appeared with the food which had clearly been sat under the hot lamp all this time. We asked for a couple of glasses of wine (from 5.50), and he disappeared again. We were in danger of finishing the mains before the wine made an appearance, but luckily managed to flag down another, more obliging waiter who brought it immediately.


As for the food, despite being a bit cold, my foie gras burger was luscious. There was a generous topping of the pate, which melted into the rare burger. I've never tried this combination before, but it seems to be flavour du jour in London at the moment and I have to admit it beats the hell out of monterry cheese. The chips were nicely crispy too. For 16.50, it was not exactly cheap (though a pound cheaper than in their Notting Hill branch according to the website!), but with the inclusion of the foie gras did not feel too much like a rip off - unlike the husband's 15.50 sea bream. It was a small slice, overly crispy and underwhelming. The accompanying pile of fennel salad was quite unusual and refreshing though.
At the end, we asked Fabio the waiter to deduct the service charge, which he duly did, but were then surprised to be offered a second opportunity to tip by the credit card machine. (We declined.)
So would I recommend it? Well, it's an opulent setting for cocktails if you like that sort of thing. And the burger was damn good, but not good enough to over-ride the service.

Beach Blanket Babylon Shoreditch, 19-23 Bethnal Green Road, E1 6LA; Tel. 020 7749 3540; www.beachblanket.co.uk; Tube: Old Street

Gaucho Grill - moo!

Sure, the Gaucho is a gimmicky chain. But I liked it -- starting with the chairs covered in black and white splodges of fake cow fur. It's a business lunch kind of place in a business lunch kind of location. (Apparently it's open on Sundays too, with live music, but for me it's an implausible image.)
Before we've had a chance to look at the menu, a waitress comes up with a wooden board featuring several slabs of red, raw meat. She explains what the different cuts are and what level of cooking (rare, medium, etc) is best for each. A nice touch (my companion jokes that this would be the ideal place to take a vegetarian), but it's too much detail to digest in one go and her strong accent doesn't really help so they might be better off just having a more informative menu.
Bizarrely the two suits in the next table are both having fish. We play the game though. I discover that 300 grams of rump (£13.50) is actually a huge portion, but it's nicely rare and flavoursome and I manage to finish the lot. My companion has a more modest 200 grams of less modest fillet (£16). (The standard sizes go up to 400 grams, but the menu helpfully says that "all steaks can be served in larger sizes". Whole cow anyone?). The chips come in both thick and thin varieties (£2.25) and there are also three other sorts of potatoes on offer. At these prices though, you might expect that sort of thing to be included, rather than to have to pay £5.75 extra for some grilled veggies. The sauces, of course, are also extra, and I am a bit disappointed with the blue cheese one (£2.00) which tastes a bit artificial and is not a patch on the dolcelatte one in Venezia.
Another disappointment is the cheese course -- £6.75 gets you a wooden board with three slivers of Argentinian cheese and some quince jelly. The one a bit like manchengo is quite nice but the other two are pretty unpleasant and for perhaps the first time ever I don't finish. (Don't worry, I didn't break my January cheese fast, I've just been very slow about writing up meals eaten as far back as December).
For two steaks, a cheese, a desert and a couple of glasses of wine each (at almost £6a glass for the cheapest on offer!) the bill tips well over the £100 mark. I have to agree that it's rip off territory. But then I wasn't paying. The service was fine and the company was good. I liked the steak and the cow seats and the cheese bread they served before the meal. So I'd go back -- as long as it's another business lunch.
Gaucho Grill, 29 Westferry Circus, Canary Riverside E14 8RR; Tel. 020 7987 9494; Tube: Canary Wharf; www.gauchorestaurants.co.uk

Dover Street - not really up my street

I am actually feeling quite benevolent towards Dover Street because despite all the pitfalls (or perhaps because of - it can be fun to slag things off sometimes!) we had a brilliant evening. And although much of the wine list is eye-watering, there is some quite nice vin de pays for £14.95 on page 11, and they did refill our jug of tap water without asking.
But this is a restaurant review, so I can't really overlook the extortionate prices or the worse-than-mediocre food. Occupying a basement on the eponymous swish Mayfair street, this place has been catering to the moneyed dinner jazz crowd for nigh on 30 years, and you wonder whether much has changed in the period. The decor features white walls, white table cloths, discreet candle light and black and white signed photos of jazz stars. Bizarrely it's designed in such a way that most tables have no view at all of the small stage -- perhaps in a bid to entice everyone onto the tiny dance floor. It emerged after we'd ordered that there was only one band on that evening, which meant the music -- the venue's chief attraction -- would only start in another two hours, at 10.30 pm. When it did start, it was pleasant enough jazz standards but sadly lacking in any wow factor.

The menu starts with £5.95 for the "potage du jour" and goes up to £28.95 for the dover sole. With prices like these I feel you might as well order something with more expensive ingredients as it represents comparatively better value-for-money. My carpaccio of beef comes in six thin, red petals. I love the pepperiness of the pile of rocket on top, but alas it rather overpowers the fairly bland meat. It's OK, but it costs £9.50 and it's not a patch on the carpaccio feast that can be had in Cafe de l'industrie in Paris (the link is to an old food site I did back when we used to live in Paris...ah the good old days!).

The husband opts for the "scallops with the embeurree of leek and celery" (£10.95). What he gets is an elongated white dish with three scallops swimming in a white sauce which tasted quite strongly of... vanilla. It sure as hell didn't go with the scallops, and I thought it was pretty vile, but he claimed it went OK with the bread as a weird kind of mid-dinner sweet course. Following on in the expensive ingredients vein, I had the £21.95 foie-gras-topped fillet steak Rossini, served with "pomme fondante" which turned out to be a rounder, posher version of potato croquettes. It smelt temptingly of truffle, though I couldn't spot any of the advertised truffle shavings. I've only sampled this dish once before, in an Italian restaurant in Carlisle, and I have to say it was much nicer there. The husband's "roast best end of lamb" (£17.95) looked a lot better than it tasted.
The last kick in the teeth came with the bill which added a £2.50 a head cover charge (for a couple of bread rolls) to the 12.5 percent service charge. I queried the cover charge, saying I had not seen it mentioned on the menu. The waitress came back and showed me where it was - in small black print, on the bit of the menu which was shaded black by the musical leitmotif. Oh, how did I manage not to spot it?! Still, sometimes they do deals which makes the food cheaper and sometimes they do have truly amazing acts. And as I said at the start we still had
a good night. So while I am not awaiting a return visit with anticipation, I haven't entirely ruled it out as a possibility. Not that they probably care too much - the place was full on our week-night visit, suggesting there's no shortage of moneyed punters who like their grub expensive and aren't too bothered about the taste factor.
Dover Street Restaurant and Jazz Bar, 8-10 Dover Street, Mayfair, W1S 4LQ; Tel: 020 7491 7509; Tube: Green Park; www.doverst.co.uk

The Fat Duck

It's not really the kind of place that needs a jokey headline, or much of an introduction. But it does make a rather worthy subject for my 100th post (yay!).

We planned the trip for months in advance, the booking line on speed dial for The Day Three Months before THE Day (they take bookings up to three months in advance), credit cards at the ready.

A rather unglamorous train trip from Paddington to Maidenhead, followed by a £5 taxi ride and we were standing on a narrow pavement outside an unassuming white washed, centuries old house. Inside, it was all white walls and tablecloths, sparkling glasses and dark wooden beams. The clientele was a mix of those for whom this was clearly a special occasion and those who looked they could afford to become regulars. There was a slight awe in the air, but it wasn't a stuffy, must-wear-jacket-and-tie kind of place.

We decided to go the whole hog -- aperitifs of champagne (we didn't like to ask how much, but the bill shows up about £17 a glass), the tasting menu (£115) and the accompanying wine selection (£90). I wanted to ask for tap water, but was over-ruled, so we had the £3.50 bottled stuff instead. All in all, it added up to about £250 a head. But was it worth it?...

At the end of the meal you each get an envelope of posh, strokeable paper with a Fat Duck seal, a copy of the menu concealed inside. So even though I've put off writing the review for months -- overwhelmed by the task -- I can tell you exactly what we had.


It started with nitro-green tea and lime mousse . The waitress produced a little blob, not dissimilar in appearance to hair mousse, out of an old-fashioned looking metal dispenser. She then zapped it with liquid nitrogen and told us to put the whole thing in the mouth in one go. On the tongue, it had a crunchy, frozen shell and then melted into lemony, liquidy refreshness.

A single oyster was served in its shell with passion fruit jelly and lavender , the textures matching nicely to create a slightly sweet, slithery, but not unpleasant sensation.

The pommery grain mustard ice cream was served a small, creamy coloured blob in a large white bowl, with the red cabbage gazpazcho added a little later in keeping with the theatricality of the place.

The parade of appetisers also featured jelly of quail, langoustine cream and parfait of foie gras before culminating in a three-way experience of the forest. A wooden tray of oak moss was placed on the table and "watered" with dry ice to produce clouds of foresty, mossy mist. We inhaled this while treating our taste buds to a tiny, earthy square of truffle toast and a sliver of moss jelly served in a little plastic box and eaten by letting it dissolve on your tongue. All that was accompanied by a German white, 2005 Iphofer Kronsberg Silvaner Spatlese Trocken (though I don't remember it tasting of celeriac!)

But even though the portions are tiny, this is certainly not a place you leave huyngry. Firstly, the dishes are numerous (including the appetisers, we counted 18!) and secondly throughout the meal, you can choose from a tasty bread basket selection.

Next came one of the Fat Duck's signature dishes, snail porridge. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but of all the dishes, this was the one that disappointed me most. It actually consisted of some normal-tasting porridge (though, to be fair it an unnatural shade of green), topped with normal, de-shelled snails and decorated with Joselito ham and shaved fennel and washed down with a glass of red, the 2004 Vin de Pays des Cote Catalanes, Le Soula, G. Gauby, Roussilon.

Then, to show that even molecular gastronomes aren't averse to using top-end ingredients, came the luxuriously creamy roast foie gras, served on plate decorated with streaks of cherry and chamomile sauces and tiny cubes of almond fluid gel. I was unconvinced by the jelly, though the Husband (generally a bigger fan of nursery food!) complemented it for the strong flavour. The 2003 Vinoptima Gewurtzraminder Reserve from Gisborne in New Zealand was a surprisingly nice accompaniment, considering that I don't like sweet wines.

Next another much-written-about dish. The "Sound of the sea" came accompanied by a tiny little ipod, hidden in a conch shell and programmed with swooshy sea sounds. The dish itself looked like a pebbly beach, topped with some foam and some things that may have been sea weed or sea creatures, and matched with a pungent, maritime smell. While I was not convinced by the flavours, you certainly couldn't fault it as a recreation of the sea for all the senses. It was served with Rashiku Junmai sake, which apparently has similar flavour characteristics to a Sauvignon blanc.

Salmon poached with liquorice featured a delicately flavoured (cooked sous vide?) piece of salmon, encased in sticky, sickly brown coating of (admittedly relatively mild flavoured) liquorice. It was served with two rather gorgeous spears of asparagus on streaks of vanilla mayonnaise and Manni olive oil , the latter fittingly created as part of a science project! Whether you enjoyed the dish or not I think boiled down to which side of the fence you are with regards to liquorish. The glass was topped up with 2001 Quinta da Falorca Reserva from Dao in Portugal.

Next was the Ballotine of Anjou pigeon with a very bloody black pudding, Chinese pigeon cracker, picking brine and spiced juices and a glass of gutsy 1999 Barolo from Piedmont.

The hot and iced tea was a truly amazing feat of science. The left half the cup of lemony, black, slightly sweet, slightly solidified liquid was hot. And the right half was ice-cold. You could feel the divide on your lips as it slipped down. Another one to file under "how the heck did he do that?!".

Then it was time for some rosy-coloured British nostalgia, a concept which in my mind is always illustrated by idyllic images of the British seaside and those mildly smutty seaside postcards circa 1950s. Mrs Marshall's Margeret cornet was a dinky little ice cream cone accompanied by a little leaflet. From there, we learnt that the rather pretty looking Agnes Bertha Marshall may have invented the edible ice cream cone back in 1886 and who suggested making ice cream using liquid gas more than a century ago.

The Pine-sherbet fountain was just a cute hark back to childhood, not dissimilar to those sugar fixes from the local corner shop of old.


The Mango and Douglas fir puree, Bavarois of lyche and mango, blackcurrant sorbet looked very pretty was ultimately a bit forgettable, but luckily its accompanying beverage was not. The 2003 Icewine from Pelee Island Winery, Ontario was for me the most bizarre thing on the drinks list -- they make wine in Canada?? Icewine, I discover is actually made from grapes that have been frozen while still on the vine, so perhaps it's ideally suited for cold climes. It was sweet, but clean and refreshing tasting, though that could have just been a psychological reaction to the word "ice" in the name.

The Carrot and orange tuile came as an odd-looking crispy lollypop, contrasted with a cube of beetroot jelly.

The Parsnip cereal came in a cute little pale green cereal box with the Fat Duck logo, and looked a bit like cornflakes. It came with parsnip milk.


The Nitro scrambled egg and bacon ice cream, pain perdu and tea jelly was truly amazing. The waitress came up with one of those shaped cardboard egg boxes, full of whole-looking egg shells into which they had cunningly put the egg and bacon ice cream mix. She then cracked the eggs into a shiny copper saucepan and zapped them with the nitrogen into ice cream. It tasted nice too - a luxurious take on breakfast in the middle of a very extravagant lunch. The accompaniment was a sweet, fruity glass of 2004 Jurancon, Uroulat, C. Hours, France.

We just about had room for the Whisky wine gums, violet tartlet before stumbling out into the daylight, about four hours after we first went in! And the verdict? Well worth the money (though probably as a once-in-a-lifetime treat).

Hawksmoor -Steaks'n'more

This place does steak. Man-style. No mamby-pamby fillet here (though they do say they can get you any cut you like with 48 hours' notice). And you get the impression they might not approve if you want it well done. The menu tells you that the portions are on the large side and - since the prices are as well - we decided to share a 600g slab of bone-in sirloin (26.50). It was huge - my half alone covered almost the entire plate. It was also bloody, with a strong, meaty flavour. The triple-cooked chips (3.50) in contrast came in a delicate paper cone, propped up in a cute little metal bucket thingy. More bizarre side dish options included macaroni cheese, certainly not something I've ever eaten as accompaniment to steak (never say never). The creamed greens (3.50) ticked the obligatory one-a-day veg box. And if you are that way inclined, it ticks all the organic boxes too, getting its meat from Yorkshire's Ginger Pig (don't look at their website if you get upset about eating cute animals!). There are no sauce options on the menu, but our meat fest arrived with a little jar of pepper sauce and a pot of rather good bearnaise. For the cheese fiend in me though, the absence of a blue cheese based overcoat scored some negative marks.
The house red, from California, was very nice. But then for 22, you'd bloody expect it to be. In general, the wine list seems to be pitched at the city boys who (judging by our neighbours) are tempted enough by the meat and the booze to wonder a little further away from the square mile. The place also had a great reputation for cocktails ("all lovingly made", according to the website) though we didn't try any. It was busy on a Tuesday night, the just managed to squeeze us in. The decor is functional and rather beside the point - white walls, minimalist dark tables, no table cloths, the kind of stuff you could find in many bars or casual eateries. Like I said, the point is the meat and the meat is good. But may be next time I shall see if I can do this on the expense account.

Hawksmoor, 157 Commercial Street, E1 6BJ; www.thehawksmoor.com ; Tel. 02072477392; Tube: Liverpool Street/Old Street (or Shoreditch when that reopens)

Life -- a funny one, with stuffed tigers

Reviews of Life haven't exactly been flattering. But when a restaurant opens within spitting distance of where I live (ok, not literally, but then I couldn't spit further than the window sill), I feel it is my duty to try it at least once. They've clearly been trying to drum up business, with people handing out fliers on the corner. To be honest though I think this might be a more successful tactic if the fliers feature some kind offfer, like 10% off or a free beer... But they seem to be doing something right as when we turned up we had to wait half an hour for a table.

On the plus side, this gave us the chance to have a nose through the small downstairs shop flogging Japanese kitsch (£80 for a t-shirt anyone?) and check out the bar. We found a tiny cubby hole of a room off to one side, piled high with large stuffed tigers and pillows and decorated, nursery-style, with some coloured boards nailed at child height to the walls. It was an odd feeling, sipping a pint of kirin while sitting a-top a stuffed tiger, but I think I quite liked it! They made us pay up for the drinks before we could go upstairs, although they did let us take back up what we hadn't yet drunk. But it seems that the two operations are oddly separate -- the draft kirin for example is only available in the bar, while diners have to make do with the bottled stuff.

We decided to go for the set menus, all of which started with a disappointingly lacklustre and tasteless salad of scalops. We hadn't been given any sauces at this stage, so couldn't spice it up with wasabi or some such. (What a waste of a luxury ingredient, we thought.) Next, the tempura and teriyaki set menus (£25 each, named after their main courses) featured some thinly cut but pretty good bits of sashimi: two of salmon, two of tuna. I went for the sushi menu (£30) as I wanted more raw fish, and my next course was a small bowl of tempura. There was an overcooked prawn, some undercooked carrots and a couple of actually rather lovely mushrooms. For mains, the terriyaki -- of both salmon and chicken -- were decent enough, and the tempura was more of the same. I was disappointed with my sushi though. I had asked the waited whether it would be maki and he assured me it would not. But it turned out that half of it was indeed made up of chunky rice rolls. They were pretty tasty, but I wanted raw fish, not avocado. And the raw fish that did come was in thin slivers atop big piles of rice -- even the cheapo all-you-can-eat Gili Guli is more generous with its slicing!
The desert, also part of the set menues, was described to us separately as pana cotta and as cheese cake. In the end it wasn't really much like either, but a pleasant enough, slightly cheesy not very sweet cake thingy.

I shall finish with the bad stuff first. Our first request for a jug of tap water yielded one shot-size glass (in the bar), and only the third request in the restaurant yielded a glass each. The staff are authentically Japanese, which is great. But they also don't speak English, which isn't quite so good. And finally the place is really very overpriced.

But there were good points. The miso soup (also part of the menu) was rather gorgeous. And the decor is funky -- a converted warehouse look, with a back wall made of what looks like parquet flooring and widely spaced out tables which made me feel a bit like we were part of some kind of art instalation or theatrical experiment. Plus the tigers in the bar give the place a wadge of bonus points. But not quite enough to tip the review into positive territory.

Life; 2-4 Old Street; Tube: Barbican or Old Street; www.life-oldst.com (At the moment though isn't much use - it's alarmingly bright red and just tells you that the place is about to open. Which it did. About a month ago.

Angelus - heavenly foie

For the previous hour, the escapade to west London in search of foie gras crème brule had seemed like a very terrible idea. They shut the central line just as we got to the tube entrance, and what should have been a simple hop on the tube turned into a nightmare journey featuring three buses, a sprint along High Holborn past stationary traffic and a very uncomfortable, overcrowded one-stop on the tube. But, ensconced on a comfy dark red leather banquette and taking my first sip of quickly proffered champagne (£7.50), I knew we'd made the right decision. Angelus was just gorgeous. The tap water came in those cute little pastis bottles and was re-filled unbidden. The service was very helpful and elegant without being overly stuffy. The white walls were decorated with the most glorious mirror in an art-nouveau curvy wooden frame, and matchingly encased prints of elegant French ladies. It reminded me of a more modern, less OTT version of Julien, one of my favourite Parisian brasseries. The menu (as the lady, I was almost expecting to receive the version without prices - it was that kind of place) is actually surprisingly reasonable. Starters in the £5-10 range, and nearly all mains under the £20 mark. The long wine list, focussing on France, also featured a surprising number of bottles under £30 and some for as little as £13. We decided to experiment with a macon for £21, which was nice but not stunning. Obviously, I had the crème brule (£9). It came in a wide byt shallow plate, a circle of creamy, speckled brownness ensconced in a halo of snow-white china. There was a pleasing crack as I broke through the sweet caramel top to reveal silky smooth liver pate underneath. It was gorgeous, and almost too delicate for the accompanying brown toast. (Though it was still *just* foie gras, and if I am really honest, I was a teensy bit disappointed as I was expecting some fairy magic.) The husband's egg cocotte (£7) came in a tall martini glass crammed with wild mushrooms and luscious, orange egg gooiness. There was plenty of bread on offer from the bread basket to mop up every last bit of the juices. Next, came a pie of rabbit with foie gras and port (£18) with a decent house read (£4 a glass). Again, it looked stunning, served with a slice cut out and set slightly aside. It was also the nicest rabbit I've ever had (not quite as grand a claim as it sounds, as I've probably only had rabbit half a dozen times in my life). The dover sole (£21) was also very good, and the whole lot came with some buttery mash on the side. This review is starting to sound too sycophantic, so I shall mention that the lettuce (both with the starter and the main) was too bitter for my taste, and largely left uneaten. The cheese plate (£9) was also perhaps a little underwhelming, but by then the flavours were a little dulled by the alcohol :-)
Now all I need is another excuse for a celebration to justify a return visit to my bank balance. And it looks like we might have to make another trip out west soon to check out the new St John wannabe.

Angelus, 4 Bathurst Street, W2 2SD ; Tel. 020 7402 0083; Tube: Lancaster Gate www.angelusrestaurant.co.uk

Boisdale of Bishopsgate - Scotland vs The City

The gents was located neatly between the bar and the restaurant. For the ladies, you had to go through the bar, down a corridor, round a corner.... Inside the cubicle, there was tartan carpet and a framed share of some long-gone mining company on the wall. Never have I been to a place that was so perfectly summer up by its toilets! Boisdale is in City land, full of suits, and looks like it's been around for far longer than women have been wearing pinstripes. It is also a Scottish restaurant, serving a ming-boggling array of whiskies and plates of haggis to line the stomach. We sat in the downstairs bar on a Monday night, watching it gradually fill with after-work drinkers and networkers, and listening to a rather good piano player and accompanying singer performing Sinatra-style oldies. The draught Bombadier was beautifully kept, though at £3.30 it probably qualifies as my most expensive pint of ale ever. From the bar menu, I opted for a hearty Scotch Rarebit with bacon (£5.65). The gravadlax (£5.65) was pretty generously portioned, but sadly overwhelmed by a cloying mustardy sauce. No bread rolls materialised, and our bread plates were whipped away unused before the main course. The haggis, with the obligatory neeps and tatties, (£12.15) was OK, though I found the utter membrane too thick and not very edible. The venison burger (£10.50) with a beetroot garnish and chips was again perfectly edible. At the high end, the menu offered steaks from £20-plus. All in all, unless you have a city pay packet, you'd probably be much happier with the taste yield on your investment if you wondered down the road to Spitalfields for food. But the service is charming, the setting is surprisingly intimate despite the suits, and there is no cover charge for the nightly live music (from about 6.30 pm). So I may well be sipping more £3.30 Bombardier in the future.

Boisdale of Bishopsgate, Swedeland Court, 202 Bishopsgate, EC2M 2NR; Tel. 0207 283 1763; Tube: Liverpool Street

Frederick's - Diet-breaking amid Islington antiques

With an old-fashioned sign and an unassuming window revealing a darkened bar, Frederick’s is well camouflaged among the antique shops on a tiny Islington side street. So much so in fact, that we'd almost forgotten it existed and returned for the second time only this week - years after our first visit. Past the dark bar, you find yourself in an airy, conservatory-like dining room, with glass ceiling and white walls decorated with giant, brightly-coloured abstract canvases. The staff are numerous and friendly, but subjected to that irritating hierarchy where you ask one for something only for them to scuttle off in search of a colleague qualified to fulfil your request (eg take the order). The menu offers about a dozen choices of starters, in the slightly luxurious vein of modern European dining. My warm slab of foie gras was silky smooth gluttony on a plate. The mushroom tart with poached egg and hollandaise featured a good pile of flavoursome wild mushrooms, though to my taste they could have been a bit more generous with the sauce. The plate of scallops featured three juicy examples of the species, sat in their shells on a bed of potatoes - each with its own morsels of accompaniments: mushrooms, leeks and spinach. The carpaccio of beef was also good, and the dressing on the accompanying salad got particular praise from its eater. For mains, we succumbed to the day's special - a melt-in-the-mouth two-person portion of chateaubriand, with skinny crispy chips, home-made mayonnaise, béarnaise sauce and spinach. The diet will have to wait for another day, but it was well worth it! The other special, an open whole lobster, tasted as good as it looked. Personally I am not a big fan of fennel, so wasn't that keen on the wild halibut which included it, but the others liked it well enough. The beer selection was pretty good for a restaurant, including Leffe and various European lagers. From the wine list, both the sancerre and the house red got big thumbs up. Next time we will linger a bit longer, may be squeezing in a desert (I was sorely tempted to re-live childhood treats with a banana split!) and sampling some of the ports....

Frederick’s, 106 Camden Passage, Islington, N1 8EG; Tube: Angell; Tel: 020 7359 2888

Brian Turner Mayfair,

The walk through Mayfair, past boutiques sparsely sprinkled with eye-wateringly expensive wares, and then along the leafy, embassy filled Grosvenor Square sets the mood for the posh dining experience that's offered at Brian Turner's eponymous restaurant in the Millennium Hotel. The staff though were much more genial than one usually expects in such places, joking with us and helping to make the meal (a hen night) a more memorable occasion. (That didn't stop them constantly topping up the drinks though in a bid to get us to buy more of the £3.95 bottled water!) We chose from the £28.50-for-3-courses-and-a-glass-of-fizz menu, thanks to a special offer on toptable . There were three options for each course, as well as an amuse bouche of crab and sweet corn fritter, which got a universal thumbs up (though IMHO it would have been much better sans sweet corn -- who needs vegetables?!). My foie gras starter was creamy and rich, and went beautifully with the roll of buttery brioche. The gilt headed bream main course was a generous, well-cooked portion atop a pile of filling risotto with squid rings. It was tough finding the room for pudding, and to my mind the plate of three British cheeses was by far the least inspiring part of the meal. With coffee and champagne (well, it was a special occasion), my share of the bill came to £60 -- not too bad for a special treat, which this definitely felt like. But I dread to think how much it would have come to at a la carte prices!

Brian Turner Mayfair, Millennium Hotel London Mayfair, Grosvenor Square, W1K 2HP; Tel: 020 7596 3444 ;www.brianturneronline.co.uk ; Tube: Bond Street

Coq d'Argent

Coq d'Argent is a surreal place, accessed through a moderately grubby shopping centre/tube station combo. But the lift is flanked by two pretty ladies with clip-boards - a sign that you are about to step into a different world. A world of an orderly roof garden, full of suits drinking overpriced mineral water (£3.75 a bottle) amid the city roof tops. Alas, there was no room outside, so we settled next to a window opened out onto the roof garden. The set menu offers two courses for £24, three for £28 - not bad considering you are in the city. Otherwise starters are around £10 and mains a bit under £20. My starter of cold Vichissoise soup with truffles was a lovely bowl of creaminess. Luckily it was not the kind of soup that needs bread, for the one measly bread roll was very unremarkable and no refill was forthcoming. The disadvantage of work lunches is that you can't pinch everyone else's food, so I have to rely on sight. The fois gras on (savoury) ginger bread looked lovely, although its eater said it was bit too rich. The smoked salmon looked unimpressive, topped with a solitary roughly shaped blini - at these prices I was glad I had opted for something more unusual. The main of sea bass on a bad of beans and capers was nice, though modestly sized. The chicken supreme from the a la carte looked more generous, wrapped in pieces of ham and surrounded by mushrooms in a creamy sauce. Unusually for a city venue, the service was slow - it took us about two hours to get through the two courses and coffee (£3, alas with not even a sliver of an after eight). Overall, it was quite nice, and worth a visit for the views. But other than that, there was little to mark it out from its numerous suit-filled rivals in the gilded square mile.

Coq d'Argent, No. 1 Poultry, EC2R 8EJ; Tel. EC2R 8EJ; Tube: Bank; www.coqdargent.co.uk

Le Gavroche

I've been to busy to post recently - but not too busy to eat, so will be trying to catch up on the writing up.

First, Le Gavroche - a wonderfully old fashioned institution in Mayfair. It comes in at number 28 in the list of world's top restaurants, and the listing also informs us that it's been around for 40 years and one loyal customer has been coming in for lunch every weekday for the past 18. And I can see why he (in this setting, it's bound to be he) would. The gentlemen wear jackets. There is a cosy bar with tartan sofas and an eclectic art collection (ranging from various pictures of the eponymous tearaway to Chagall) in which to enjoy an aperitif while perusing the menu and the list of merchandise (from the colourful plates with a likeness of Mr Roux to cutlery with handles shaped like Gavroche, it's all for sale!). This is Mayfair and the place has two Michelin stars, so the prices are hefty. But weekday lunchtimes offer the bargain of 3 courses, coffee, half a bottle of wine and half a bottle of water for £48 -- less than some of the a la carte main courses.
Our pink champagne was offered with amuse-bouches of tempura prawns and chicken liver pate on toast. Downstairs the green walls are adorned with more art and each table features an amazing animal sculpture made out of cutlery. Ours was a turkey, with fork handles for a tail and spoons for belly feathers. The numerous staff were very discrete, topping up our glasses of Pinot Blanc de Blancs and water when required as opposed to sloshing it all in in a bid to sell another bottle. Another amuse bouche of tender fish fillet in green sauce went down very well. My starter - half a lobster - made the menu seem like a complete bargain. My companion's salmon gravadlax was lovely, but he kept sneaking jealous glances at the lobster. There were warm fresh rolls with two types of butter to mop up the juices. My main of mackerel with wild mushrooms was also good, while my companion had some of the nicest veal I've ever tasted. For desert, we chose four cheeses each from a bulging, oozing wooden board. The fourme d'ambert was gorgeous, the camembert with Calvados a bit too adventurous for my taste. Then there was coffee, with a bowl of juicy cherries (a lovely alternative to after dinner mints), and offers of refills. We waddled stuffed and a little tipsy into the afternoon drizzle. This was the life.

Le Gavroche, 43 Upper Brook Street, W1K 7QR; Tel. 020 7408 0881; Tube: Marble Arch; www.le-gavroche.co.uk

Hat & Feathers

After years of anticipation, rumours and delays, the beautiful building on the corner of Clerkenwell and Goswell Roads finally got spruced up with a lick of lemony yellow paint and demurely opaque windows and has rediscovered itself as a trendy pub with gastro tendencies. The room downstairs has been beautifully restored, with the wood panelling, the chandeliers and the windows giving a nod to a bygone era. But the place manages to give a thoroughly modern, slightly aloof air, with its modern furniture and a wide selection of expensive continental largers on tap. We filled up on London Pride (£2.80 and the only ale on offer - perhaps a miscalculation by the management as they frequently seem to sell out), and perused the bar menu. The dishes range from the simple ( soup, wild mushrooms on toast) to the bizarre (confit of duck risotto with orange and parmesan) and most mains are under the £15 mark. Two of us couldn't resist the fillet steak, served in a fairly modest portion but presented like a work of art with a slick tower of potato and a dollop of melting horse radish cream (£16). It was delicious, but to me felt somehow too pretentious for a pub. The steak sandwich was simpler though again on the small side (about £8), whilst fish and chips was another work of art - the fish in thin tempura batter stacked on a jenga of thick chips. For me the chips (we ordered two extra bowls, at £3.50 each, which was just as well given the portion size) were arguably the best bit -- truly chunky, yet crisp and served (unbidden) with dishes of ketchup and good quality mayonnaise. Upstairs, there is a "proper" restaurant with a ( even) less casual menu at around £22 for 2 courses, but on an earlier visit it lacked diners and atmosphere. The food in the bar is nice, and the bar itself is not without charm, but a cosy "local" this ain't and at these prices I don't think we'll be back too often.

Hat & Feathers, 2 Clerkenwell Road, London, EC1M 5PA; Tel. 020 7490 2244; Tube: Barbican

Edited to add that this place now has a rather nice outdoor terrace with heaters, where you can also snack from the bar menu.

Rules

Rules claims to be the oldest restaurant in London and it is indeed a venerable insitution, somewhat reminiscent of the grand old Parisian brasseries. Despite being quite a large place, it does get booked, so book before you go. Inside, the walls are covered with pictures - from a somewhat disturbing caricature of Margaret Thatcher in knightley armour (the Iron Lady, geddit?) to certificates for cattle at Smithfield market from a century or more ago. The waiters are unfailing polite and dressed in those long white aprons they wear in France. The clientele is mixed - from tourists to businessmen to couples - and the atmosphere is posh but not snooty. They were happy to bring us tap water and refilled it unbidden, for example. Meat is the big thing on the menu, sourced from the restaurant's own Scottish estate. We started with duck salad (£9) and unbelievably tender, thin slivers of smoked venison (£10). For mains, I sampled my most expensive ever, 30-day hung sirloin steak for £18. It was worth it, and came with a mount of thin, crispy chips - just the way I like them. The roast partidge was also a success. Washed down with some perfecly quaffable house claret (£16 a bottle), and throwing in the service charge and a couple of aperetifs, the bill came to around £100. You could do it cheaper, but I recommend putting your self in treat mode, getting out the credit card and savouring every mouthful. You could always use some visiting foreigners as an excuse to come here and prove that there is such a thing as a traditional Endlish restuarant, and a good one at that. (They also have a late night two courses for £18 deal, which is well worth trying if you are hungry post-theatre).
Rules Restaurant, 35 Maiden Lane, London, WC2E 7LB, www.rules.co.uk, Tel. 0207 836 5314; Open noon-midnight, Mon-Sun; Tube: Covent Garden or Charing Cross

Portal

This is a newish place, serving fancy food with a Portuguese slant. There is a bar at the front, and in the back a rather lovely glass conservatory with plant-shielded windows. The decor is similar to many other places of this genre - white table cloths, dark wood, exotic flower buds in little shot glasses on the tables.
It's a good place for a special treat, and for that the prices are quite reasonable. Before the meal we were treated to a selection of bread served with butter and olive oil/vinegar combo, shot glasses of warm green soup, little ramekins of some flavoursome vegetables, miniature vegetarian tarts and generous half-moons of ravioli stuffed with duck and wild mushrooms with a chilli sauce. Of the starters, the star was probably duo of tuna and salmon attain - deliciously fresh and tender raw fish. Mille feuille of goats cheese with asparagus, poached egg and hollandaise sauce was also gorgeous, if a little too rich. Anchovies served with roast tomatoes were, quite frankly, rather dull, but as the dish met its description word for mouthful and there were plenty of alternatives (a choice of 10 or so starters), one can't really complain. Tuna with foie gras came with two very generous slabs of the fatty goose liver pate, but might have been tastier had the tuna been cooked for less time. The main winner was braised bisaro (apparently some kind of Portuguese pig crossed with a wild boar), which very tender and flavoursome and hearty in a wintry casserole kind of way. The fillet of sea bass benefited from the rich flavours of an accompanying crab and sun dried tomato risotto. This is a place with an ambitious menu, and most of it works very well. There are the odd slip ups - a lump of something that looked and tasted like suet pudding that came with the tataki for example, or a bizarre little pot of green stuff which came with the Dover sole and tasted distantly of mustardy creamed spinach. But overall, the meal was a success.
The place seems to attract a mixed crowd, from groups of friends to business meetings to loved-up couples. The wine list has some interesting bottles from Portugal at reasonable prices, and a couple of bottle largers from that part of the world. The staff are friendly, though the service was perhaps a little too slow on this visit.
With booze and the 12 percent service charge, expect to pay about £90 for a two-course dinner for two. The bar, I believe, also offers an alternative menu of small tapas-style dishes, which we have yet to sample. It is advisable to book the restaurant unless you are going mid-week.
Portal, 88 St John's Street, London, EC1M 4EH, Tel. 0207 253 6950; Tube: Barbican; www.portalrestaurant.co.uk

Comptoir Gascon

Comptoir Gascon is the offspring of the City foie gras heaven that is Club Gascon. It started life as a deli on the other side of Smithfield market, full of tempting but pricey gastronomic tit bits. Earlier this year they squeezed up their food laden shelves and fitted in a few dark-wood tables. The size of the place, its newness and good reviews in the press mean it's actually relatively hard to book a table, although there is an option of eating at the bar. The menu is French and fairly simple, supplemented by a few specials on the blackboard. There is no clear split between starters and mains, although our portions were of a good size. I had salade Landaise from the blackboard - tender green beans, with specs of foie gras, and slices of cured duck meat. My companion had hearty Cassoulet Toulousain. Most dishes fall in the £10-£15 price bracket. There is a good selection of wines - by the bottle, by the glass (from £3.50) and by the 45cl carafe called a fillette (£7.50). To finish off I was greedy and had foie gras, which - at £10 - came in two very generous slabs with some nice toasted bread with bits in. They add on a 12.5 percent service charge to the final bill.
There are tealights on the tables and the deli-laden shelves add to the cosy yet trendy atmosphere. The service was quite friendly, if a little absent-minded. Overall, even with the foie gras, it was a well-priced and tasty meal and I would happily go back for seconds.
Comptoir Gascon, 61-63 Charterhouse Street, London, EC1M 6HJ; Tel. 0207 608 80851; Tube: Barbican or Farringdon