Thanksgiving 2011

Some pics from a recent Thanksgiving banquet I had the privilege of attending:

 

Food - 8/10
Drink - 7/10
Service - 10/10 (my Mum!)
Value - 10/10 (see above)
Staff hotness and tap water tales - I'll skip...

Flat White

Walking down Berwick Street the other day, I peered into Flat White and thought I’d give it a go for a coffee, rather than my usual Foxcroft & Ginger. I’ve always thought that great coffee aside, it was just a little too sceney and judgemental, and preferred the more relaxed space down at F&G.

London’s come a long way when you can even have a conversation about two top quality coffee outlets thrashing it out on the one street. With Milk Bar, Fernandez &Wells (x3), Sacred and several others in the vicinity, we really don’t have to look so far to get a good coffee these days. Where I work in EC1, we’re equally blessed (Dose, St Ali, Caravan, Farm), but most areas are still lacking.

The coffee here is Square Mile (to Foxcroft’s Monmouth) and expertly made and presented. The food on offer is more extensive but less gourmet. They offer the simple staples of an Antipodean brunch, so eggs benedict, Greek yoghurt, tomato on toast etc… rather than fancy sandwiches and cakes. It lacks the aesthetic 'counter of temptation' they have at Foxcroft, but seems to have more of a full service kitchen. I only had a whit-choc and raspberry muffin which was fine, so yeah. Not much to say on that!

 

I liked Flat White more than I thought. For some reason I’ve always assumed you go to one or the other, and I felt disloyal popping in. But perhaps you can café hop in the same way frequenting different pubs doesn’t bring the guilt. Staff weren't the coffee-snob monsters I'd read about either, both were very sweet.

The more establishments selling decent coffee, the less Starbucks and Costas we’ll see everywhere. Surely that's worth a bit of brotherhood. They’re probably friends anyway, I can picture them now all: “Can I borrow an avo, bro!” - "Yeah sweet as mate, too easy" and so on.

Still posery as hell and feels like a backpackers’s canteen (with iPads), but I’m thankful for it nonetheless.

Kua 'Aina

I’ve walked past Kua ‘Aina several times and always thought it looked a bit naff. Not to mention lurid. And what do tiki culture and burgers have in common anyway? 

like the real thing...

But one day I had an absolute craving for a burger in the Carnaby area, and it popped into my head - not being a fan of The Diner or Carnaby Burger Co. And so once that was settled, I began to obsess over pineapple burgers.

Of course, it’s not strictly tiki, more classic 60s North Shore Americana. And so the burger connection starts to make more sense. It’s a small place, styled like a surfy beachshack with a very American grill station and no table service. It’s no-nonsense burgers in diner baskets, but they also do loads of great looking sandwiches – teriyaki chicken, clubs and so forth.

I had the pineapple burger with extra cheese (£8) – a 1/3 pound patty cooked medium-rare (I requested this, but they were very pleased to oblige). The meat is from Devon via Smithfield Market, and the same supplier does for John Torode also. It’s good stuff. 

 

I was glad of the paper in the basket, because this baby was juicy. Probably because it was nice and pink. But it could have had a little more charring.

Cheese was American and the pineapple (two rings) was nicely grilled, giving off its own sweet juices into the mix. Bun was a mix of sesame and poppy seeds, which was unusual but worked very well. I love poppy seeds and I devoured the whole lot in about two minutes. 

gherkin not included

When I visited, the fryer was off so no fries sadly. They offer sweet potato fries too. I ordered a gherkin which was extra (99p) – perfectly crunchy, tangy and delicious but surely integral to the American burger experience? Just as surprising was the massive carrot piece served with the burger. I ate it of course, but quite random all the same. Music wasn't Beach Boys or surf rock, but curiously The Lion King. 

Not much else to say really – a honest, un-gourmet American burger and best within a fairly small Carnaby radius. With added Point Break interior. Mahalo.

pineapple godliness

Food – 8/10

Drink – 7/10 (some wine and Asahi on draft)

Service - 8/10 - food brought to table quickly, no frills and happily so.

Value – 7/10

Tap water tales – 0/10 (didn't ask, didn't see, didn't get)  

Staff Hotness – 3/10 (more Eastenders than Blue Crush...)

Granger & Co

Granger & Co is the London incarnation of the new restaurant by Bill Granger, Sydney's favourite foodie son. I am guessing this is due to the existence of a not too dissimilar “Bill’s” café place in the St Martin's Courtyard development. But I imagine there is some marketing spiel for this, like a different brand proposition or market positioning and so forth.

I’d been excited about Bill Granger’s London joint for years. The Piglet and I had once found jet-lagged solace at his Darlinghurst café at about 6am on our Sydney trip – a veritable desert oasis (mainly due to the time of day as we'd been up for about 3 hours already, wicked area usually) and it became one of our meals of legend. Those ricotta hotcakes do deserve their cult status.

Would Bill Granger be able to transfer his vision of breezy and effortless Sydney lifestyle to London’s grey and frantic streets, even at the relatively sedate end of Westbourne Grove?

The man himself was there, greeting some people, chatting to others, but also clearing tables and bringing dishes out. At work, he wasn't all white teeth and smiley, blond Super-Dad, like all those black and white promo pictures of him, but a man under pressure. Which is good to see – as it’s clearly not all photo-shoots and cookbooks.

The interior is a step away from bills. It’s a lot more mature and design conscious. I think the pared-back, stark, wood-and-white thing with the communal dining table would have worked in London too (it’s done plenty elsewhere) but for the premium wining and dining crowd, who’ll be key here rather than the brunch crowd, the urbane details are a sound decision. That said, it’s still laidback – the slatted wood ceiling is a particularly great feature.

Onto the food – some chilli olives in that perfect emerald shade are delicious. We also went for the fritto misto for a starter: tempura battered fennel, courgette and onion rings (£5.60). This was nicely presented but somewhat lacking in flavour – they could have salt-bathed it like at Zucca for example, or maybe had some spice in the batter. But it fell short of the mark a bit.

Still slightly obsessed with my Meat Liquor chicken wings, the chicken wingettes (£7.40) were much more accomplished. Nicely marinated and charred, but with some tender, juicy meat inside. Great sweet and spicy dipping sauce, and some salad and red onion jam to join them. The portion wasn’t as big as Yianni’s, but these were better quality meat.

The parmesan-crusted chicken schnitzel (£10.50) is another dish which reminds me of Sydney. In this case not bills but a place in Surry Hills called Bird Cow Fish where the schnitzel was the best I’ve ever tasted. Bill’s London version was well-cooked and again nicely presented, but again lacked a punch. The parmesan crust wasn’t strong enough and could have done with being mixed with more black pepper and again, some salt. 

Seasoning is very subjective, but we’re not salt people (I never add them to chips for example) so I consider my palate at the more tolerant, less salt-hungry end of the spectrum. This wasn’t there. Still a good dish though, and easily remedied in the batter.

 

The crisp duck with plum sauce and clementines (£15.90) was delicious. A hearty, happy tasting duck leg with some semi-sticky rice and nestled on the sauce. It was the East Asian take on a plum sauce rather than a European one, fragrant with cinnamon and star anise. The clementines added another fruit zing to cut through the duck fat, and complemented the dish well as well as adding colour and juice.

We didn’t stay for dessert or coffee (Allpress of Redchurch, tick!) so that was that.

 

On to the service, which needs a mention. It’s a huge undertaking in any scenario, but with such high expectations and a great reputation, the pressure must be even worse. And so you would have everything down, surely. It’s been a year in the making. But there were some serious service let downs.

crisp duck

Our waiter didn’t know if we needed to order sides or if there were adequate carbs on two dishes. Such a schoolboy error – know your product! More senior looking members of staff spent more time chatting than helping resolve issues, of which I noticed several. Table issues, cold food and some very long waits for service. Bill Granger himself cleared a table whilst they stood about talking.

We asked one female server for the wine list as we’d finished our carafe as our mains arrived – she said she’d sent someone but nobody came and we had our mains with no wine. Or water – as this wasn’t offered. It was quite a tragic sight – the table was as bare as a canteen, rather than a sumptuous, uptown bistro. The 12.5% added to the bill smarted a little, as it’s not a very Australian thing to do yet somehow this was lost in the cultural exchange. Funny that.

 

I’m so glad to have Bill and his post-fusion Sydney concept here, but it does need a little tinkering around the service and possibly seasoning. Service in Sydney is the quintessential Australian chilled yet attentive: “too easy!” etc – knowledgeable about product and not missing a trick, yet friendly and laidback. We have the flat white, we now have the food - can we have the service too please? Without NY-quality waiting staff, the hectic thing just won’t work.

I’m pleased something noteworthy has opened in Notting Hill rather than Soho, Clerkenwell or Shoreditch. And teething problems must be allowed for. I’ll definitely be back – the pork shoulder pancakes, the burger and of course the brunch, all need to be sampled. But when you spend your main course without wine, looking forlornly around the room to catch someone’s eye, it's hard to remain so forgiving.

Food – 8/10
Drink – 7/10
Service - 3/10
Value – 8/10
Tap water tales – 4/10 (tap mentioned but their house-filtered option proferred) 
Staff Hotness – 5/10 (dapper but dosy)

The Witchery (Edinburgh)

I’d been aware of The Witchery for many years but never had the opportunity to visit. So I was very excited, on that misty Edinburgh eve. The city has some great restaurants and a strong food scene, although it can be top-heavy and formal at times. Traditions are important here (as are the tourists looking for them), but it works because quality comes first especially with all things deemed Scottish. And Scots are just as in to Scottish things and Scottishness as tourists. Provenance is important up the road.

The venue itself is right by the castle, and incredibly atmospheric. All wood panelling, louche, dripping candlesticks and moody blood-red walls, it’s definitely marries up a whore’s boudoir with a medieval banquet, retaining an intimacy. The candelabras and teapots could plausibly jump to life and burst into a reprise of ‘Be Our Guest’.

I think some witches were executed here once, or maybe had their coven here or something. In Edinburgh, every second place has a wee ghostie, an execution or some sort of rebellion so you become blasé about it all, which is shameful. I’m aware it’s a touch of a tourist hotspot – but I wouldn’t say ‘trap’, due to the vindication of quality and also the amount of Scots who eat there too. Perhaps one of those places foreign dignitaries are obsequiously feasted before given some naff traditional token.

Dressed crab (£12.50) from Mull is served with a variety of accompaniments: samphire, lardons, quail egg and so on, but is served with a consistency closer to mashed up baby food than a salad. Tasted spot on though, and on a beautiful plate.

Haggis, neeps and tatties (£9.50) was a strong point. They’d be in trouble if it wasn’t! The haggis was good with a high meat content, moist and not dry or mealy like bigger portions can be. Neeps and especially tatties were in short supply, but I guess they're trying to distinguish it and make it a touch nouveau.

Three Little Pigs (£24.50) comprised bacon chop, pork belly and loin. It’s a carnivores’ feast but each component isn’t huge so it doesn’t look as obscene as it might.

Cider parsnips on the side weren’t really enough, so triple cooked chips (£4) were needed. Crunchy, delicious chips – these tasted like traditional chippy chips, despite being triple cooked. Best of both worlds.

Cairngorm red deer loin with a blue cheese and walnut pithivier (£26.00) was so promising and exciting. It was excellently presented and the bitter chocolate oil was an interesting touch. However the venison was a tiny bit tough, despite being visibly well-cooked, and the pithivier (a little puff pastry thing) was a tad dry. It was still very tasty though.

To finish off, as we could barely move we went for the sample of desserts – great value at £10.50. This included a rich chocolate torte, a passion fruit trifle, sorbet, crème brule, biscotto and a few other bits and bobs. All delicious.

The history in Edinburgh is inescapable. Broody, moody grey turrets, speckled with black, spiky monuments and towering hills, and some perfect Georgian crescents. It feels like a place of consequence and you can credibly believe armies and clans battling it out in a way that even The Tower of London doesn’t quite convey. 

It’s a great experience; service is attentive and food is solid. It’s a bit expensive and the wine list ascends into the stratosphere very quickly, but there are plenty of bottles below £40.  And it’s the town of Harry Potter’s conception (literary, not parental) – so what better excuse for a witchy time?

Food – 8/10

Drink – 7/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 7/10

Tap water tales – 2/10 (not offered but we fancied sparkling anyway)  

Staff Hotness – 7/10 (very smart)