Flesh & Buns

Flesh & Buns has managed to pull off that rare miracle in London's food scene; originality. 

It is a hotchpotch of Japanese dishes, with Korean and Chinese elements lurking around, but to call it an izakaya would be completely missing the point. It’s not an izakaya, in the same way that The Ivy is not a pub, even though they both serve safe, generalist classics such as Shepherd’s Pie.

In addition to the meat + buns main event, their offering ranges from sushi to yakitori, with plenty in between. Our chicken yakitori was sweet, faintly pink and absolutely charred to Tokyo yokocho perfection, but without the fag fumes. The fried squid, which at best I am ambivalent to, was zingy, light and lacked any rubbery texture at all. A first for me. 

Beef tataki was vinegary, tangy and frankly divine:

But on to the buns. The idea is to order from a range of predominantly meat dishes which come with hirata buns (similar to the bleached-white char sui dim sum buns but in halves) to fill. Cucumber and hoi sin-esque dipping sauces feature heavily, and so it’s fair to equate this with something in between the rituals of Peking duck and making your own sarnies. 

Many meals fundamentally boil down to DIY sandwich-making (observe us Brits in a tapas place) and so I have no doubts about its enduring popularity here.

Both of our dishes were fantastic. Top marks went to the Flat Iron steak – exquisitely cooked and sliced. The pork belly with mustard miso was also excellent, and a much bigger portion. 

The venue itself is long, open and woody – not hugely different to Wagamama I’m afraid, but I’m unsure how else to have done it differently, and it works. I remember this as some sort of dreadful pre-craft, Belgian-style microbrewery which itself was a MASH rip off.

Service was super keen and friendly. My date, the inimitable Grace Dent, kept to her inimitable punctuality and although I only waited about 15 minutes and was more than happy guzzling my Asahi, the Japanese waitress sweetly and sympathetically asked me if I wanted to order, but now for one. I’ve never been stood up in such a manner, but having experienced a taste of the accompanying pity, it’s not a morale booster…

I absolutely loved the food here. Charred, sweet, smokey and meaty. Meat. Carb. Sauce. All you ever really need.

In these heady days of opening-chasing, endless soft launches, 'pop-up pop-ups' and the perpetual hunt for the next thing, I can safely utter some endangered words in London’s 2013 food scene: “I will actually come back here.”  

Royal China (Baker Street)

Going for weekend dim sum at Royal China on Baker Street is a London institution. It's not necessarily for the most discerning of Chinese diners, nor is it technically the best dim sum in town.

There are plenty of tourists but there are also Chinese families, hipsters and even the odd celeb (Jarvis Cocker getting stuck into some dumplings) so even if there is better dim sum in a car park in Croydon or every second Wednesday down an alleyway in Earls Court, this is still a fun, diverse London experience.

Long before Russell Norman, they wrote the book on no reservations. It’s egalitarian though; you take a numbered ticket and wait. Covers must exceed 200 I’m sure, and so the turnover is quick. You may see larger tables seated before you – the queue looked horrendous but we waited maybe 5-10 mins on a Saturday at about half three.

Honey pork puffs are one of my guilty pleasures. They’re obviously a very Western-friendly ‘entry level’ dim sum, but I love them all the same. Sweet in a way that few cuisines can (and should be able to) get away with, the combination of crumbling pastry and sweet porky filling is a winning one. Dim sum for the Gregg’s generation.

Prawn and chive dumplings and beef cheung fun are good. The texture of dim sum is something I’ve previously struggled with a little. The Chinese seem to have a steely propensity to handle the slithery and slimy. My initial reaction is a slight shudder, but then the fillings come through and save the day. Both solid dishes here. 

Char sui buns are the kings of dim sum for me. I could happily order 5 options of these and walk away as satisfied and accomplished as if I’d tried the most adventurous dishes on the menu. Pillowy buns torn open to reveal pieces of sweet, barbecued pork – this is a thing of beauty. Royal China’s version isn’t the best I’ve had (the meat component could have been more generous), but can you really have a bad one?

Our final dish (we had dinner in a few hours) were some deep fried duck rolls. These weren’t deep fried like spring rolls, but effectively battered sausages you’d get from the chippy except with some hoi sin tinged duck inside. The artery-clogging ability of these would be a challenge to equal - an absolute heart attack on a plate. Not that it stopped us wolfing them down.  

Service is standard Chinese: humorously brusque in that way which is somehow endearing and tolerated. If the servers were French, we’d be declaring an end to the entente cordiale. Rude, or at best, indifferent service is perversely one of my favourite things about Chinese restaurants; amusing and yet fair in its indiscriminateness. A bit like South Park.

Possibly the best thing about the experience is the ease of it. It’s super cheap (less than £20 including tea and service), very quick and thus perfect for a hangover. 

Food – 7/10 

Drink – 7/10 (tea spot on, otherwise I'd stick to beer) 

Service - 8/10 - exactly what it needs to be 

Value – 9/10 

Tap water tales – none asked, none offered 

Staff Hotness – 4/10 (beleaguered and frantic is not a good look)

 

Spice Market

In maybe 2005 The Piglet and I went on our first New York trip. It was filled with all the big names of the time; Pastis, The Mercer Kitchen and Spice Market. The Meatpacking District was hot, Sex & The City was credible and it was a very exciting time to be in New York. I'd never heard of Jean-Georges though, even though the latter two places are his.

I remember thinking how exotic and louche Spice Market felt back then. The opulent bar area, the sweeping staircase, the B-list celebs we spotted. But the cynicism of hindsight has me envisaging a Busaba, remembering the food as style over substance, and the family-style sharing 'concept' (vomit) as lazy.

rib eye with coriander sauce

So here we are in London, 2011. Spice Market has opened on the ground floor of the new W Hotel in Leicester Square. A natural bedfellow perhaps.

Immediately you can tell it's been pared back. No recession here, but the decor is much less ethnic, more urbane and restrained, and where there are flourishes, such as the mirrored tiles, they hark more to North Africa or the Middle East than Southeast Asia. I suppose those places have spices and bazaars too...

The service is quite rushed, even though you aren't personally. It's because there are hundreds of staff, tearing around in their ridiculously ugly red outfits, making the place feel a bit more like a tube station than a somnolent lounge. But they're attentive and friendly, and seemingly from all corners of the earth, which is interesting. Our cocktails were great - we sampled the Ginger Margarita (£11), Passion Fruit Whisky Sour (£10) and some fancy sangria (£8) - pretty steep, but well made and presented.

pork satay

The Pork Satay (£8) was the perfect starter. It was very generous, nicely seasoned and well cooked, with a softness and moistness yet nicely charred. No peanut/satay sauce though, which was a shame. But easy to share, possibly the only dish here which was...

black pepper squid with sliced pineapple

shaved tuna with chilli tapioca, like caviar!

Salt & Pepper squid (£9) was served with a yuzu dip, and highly praised, as was the slightly more Chinese Black Pepper Squid (£12.50).

The Piglet braved the Shaved Tuna (£12.50) from the Raw menu, and said it was delicious, although it came about 15 minutes after all the cooked starters. A little odd, and as we weren't sharing much (!), meant that he ate alone.


The fish mains were a hit. The Halibut (£18) with Malaysian chilli sauce was not too hot for our Scottish friend. The Crispy Salt & Pepper Brill (£18) tasted fresh, and whilst not as crunchy as I might like my tempura, wasn't too fishy (for me) and the lime dipping sauce was smooth, tangy and made the whole dish work very well.

crispy brill

The meats were less successful. The Onion and Chilli Crusted Beef Short Ribs (£18) served with noodles were actually in a potentially very messy noodle soup. How on earth a soup is shared 'family-style' with no bowls provided, I don't know! The beef is intended to be shredded off, and an unwieldy implement like a giant claw is provided for this. The meat itself was quite fatty and not that satisfying. Maybe I was unlucky with the ribs, but they shouldn't be 80% fat. The noodles in the fragrant, five spice-y soup were great though, and the only solid carbs provided with a main.

The Grilled Rib Eye with garlic, coriander and sesame (£24) was a better piece of meat, but not that memorable.

The wine list was interesting, predictably with a steep drop-off. We had a bottle of Oregon A-Z Pinot Noir (£48) which we encountered at The Mark restaurant in New York and it was great to see again. So light and easy to drink, it worked well with the Asian food I would normally have beer with.

All in all, Spice Market seems as frenetic, schizophrenic and desperately aspirational as it did in 2005. Every corner of 'the orient' is dutifully covered off, and it seems so un-exotic shoulder to shoulder with the dodgiest of Chinatown joints (as opposed to The Meatpacking District theme park). And I'm sorry, but the family-style service strikes me as a convenient excuse to not have to synchronise dishes. Noodle soups aren't easily shared across a table!

beef short ribs in noodle soup - try sharing this...

Special mention to the delicious and sweet little £3 ice creams and sorbets, in their own mini US-takeway containers. The Passion Fruit sorbet is really something special. The cookie bag (£6.50) was laughable, and you'd get better on Virgin Trains. That sort of thing is better left to Heston...

There is some good cooking here, and the bar area is worth a revisit for some snacks and cocktails (you do feel a million miles away from the migraine of Leicester Square), but the food is inconsistent and a little shaky. Maybe things might stabilise once the dust settles and the whole vibe calms down a little.

Food – 7/10
Drink – 8/10
Service – 7/10 (family concept aside, service was good)
Value – 6/10 (bill almost £250 - not cheap at all)
Tap water tales – 9/10 (numerous top ups from an iced jug)
Staff Hotness – 4/10 (they all looked a bit comical in their red get-ups)

Spice Market
10 Wardour Street, W1
http://www.spicemarketlondon.co.uk/index.php

Pomelo

'No MSG.'

What a proud statement. And should we be impressed with the honesty and standards, or slightly depressed that such a declaration is necessary?!

I love Chinese food, be it dim sum in Chinatown, full on banquets in Queensway, or messy, drippy takeaway in front of a film at home. Pomelo in Kensal Rise had been identified as a quality local Chinese restaurant, with rumours of an ex-Hakkasan chef abounding (as yet unconfirmed), and a couple of positive takeaways down the gullet, we thought we'd try the eat-in experience.

With some BYO beers (£1.50 per head corkage, unlimited consumption!) - we ordered the spare ribs in mandarin sauce (£5.50) to share as a starter. These were generous (ate one without thinking before taking pic!) sweet and gloopy, with a hoisin-esque bbq sauce, surprisingly not too heavy.

My main was that takeaway favourite, Crispy Shredded Chilli Beef (£6.50), which is usually very satisfying but not very beefy. I sometimes think they're mere twiglets fried in sweet chilli sauce, but this actually tasted meaty and wasn't 't shrivelled to within an inch of its life. Evidence of meat content! Wow...

The Piglet's Lemon Chicken (£6.50) was equally good quality, with nice pieces of chicken and a more natural tasting sauce which wasn't too cloying or artificial tasting. It tasted fresh and definitely of a quality you don't get in most generic Chinatown joints.




 
We had Egg Fried Rice (£2.50 p/h) which was decent, and a very generous portion for two. The menu also has plenty of Malaysian dishes I'd be keen to try. Decor is lots of quasi-Asiatic dark wood, and fine for a local place. Vibe quite busy and cosy.


A note on the service though. There were only tables for four available when we walked in - one cold by the door and one further away. Same size, both set for four diners. We weren't allowed the the normal one "in case a three or four arrives", and had to suffer the extremely slow and annoying draughty door opening and closing. Also while I nipped out for the beers, The Piglet was threatened straight away that we'd have to move again if a new party of four arrived and a table for two was vacant. Charming attitude. Didn't eventuate. Surely could have addressed if needed!?

The slightly batty lady seemed surprised at the end when the tip wasn't that hot. Also there are items on the menu which they've stopped cooking completely. Pomelo is handy to know as a good quality and value takeaway, which I'd recommend thoroughly for anyone in West/North West London, but I'd give a miss as a restaurant and head to Royal China...

Food – 7/10
Drink – N/A (BYO - worth it the more you drink as a flat £1.50!)
Service – 4/10
Value – 9/10
Tap water tales – 4/10 (not requested, didn't arrive but saw an iced jug for another table) 
Staff Hotness – 2/10 (not happening here....)

Pomelo
55 Chamberlayne Road, Kensal Rise, NW10
No website.