Crate Brewery

Crate is a micro-brewery which does pizzas. It’s good.

I should elaborate really. 

In deepest, darkest Hackney Wick (it’s weird), there are many industrial buildings which in these heady, post-industrial times are more suitable for apartments, raves and yes, now brewing. Crate is a few years old, a veritable old-timer for today’s brewing boom. They have the perfect spot alongside the canal, with views to the various carbuncles of the Olympic Park and Stratford itself.

About 50% of those alighting from the Overground beelined straight for Crate; we followed a girl (in a chivalrously non-threatening manner, I hasten to add) through the desolation and came across it easily. It was packed considering the eerie quiet of the streets outside, and full of bearded, industrious types scurrying around in their artisan's aprons for this higher calling of pizza and pints.

The oh-so-carefully placed sacks of barley and kegs reminded me of that old Science Museum room where kids could play at industry: scooping up grain and putting it through various conveyor belts and contraptions. Only a bit more grown up. And not completely pointless, as the outcome is beer.

Pizzas here are an odd bunch, but a merry one. My favourite was surprisingly a veggie option – the stilton, walnut and blue cheese, which sounds bizarre but was tangy and sweet genius. A sucker for detail, I loved the thoughtful, egalitarian arrangement of sweet potato allowing everyone to have a piece, possibly inspired by the local squats.

Pepperoni was also fantastic – a hot mess of gunk and grease. And whilst not a pizza bianca like the stilton, it was very light on the tomato base. And finally, the grim-sounding but again, very good minced lamb and pine nut. A friend once ordered a disgrace of a lamb pizza once (at the Lansdowne), which was like regurgitated doner meat from Upper Street's finest, so I was suspicious, but this was genuinely tasty. All crusts are Roman thin and the wooden sharing boards keep everything tactile and sociable.

I can be a bit of a purist bore about pizzas (and many other things) but these were smart, salty toppings which perfectly complemented the copious mead going down. In fact, the flavours worked so well that traditional Italian pizza adornments may have made the whole beer thing feel a bit boorish. Not that it stopped those vampy doyennes of Twitter Rachel Roberts and Grace Dent from sinking a few bottles of red instead – there is something for everyone.

 

So there it is – admirable pizza, interesting beers (they stock loads beyond their own brews, including a rarity on these shores, Bear Republic) and that canalside space. It would be chaos anywhere else, but luckily it’s so far from the beaten track, it’s practically in Leyton. But if you’re adventurous, and fancy doubling the population of Hackney Wick in one train journey, it may be the best shout…

Sacro Cuore

Kensal Rise is finally on the up. It’s a fact. West London (and certainly North West London), doesn’t get its fair share of openings or foodie developments. Hampstead, one of London’s most beautiful, affluent and cosmopolitan areas has a high street which is 50% empty, and 50% mobile phone shops. And only in the past two years had it had drinkable coffee at Ginger & White, for instance. So if Hampstead isn’t burgeoning, what hope would its less salubrious neighbours to the west have?

But Kensal Rise has a few tricks up its sleeve. It's firmly Notting Hill overspill territory, as shriek the many property pieces written by local ES and Metro hacks shuttling down to Northcliffe House. Money goes further than Queens Park, which itself is expensive with a saturated main drag lacking many opportunities for new businesses. Kensal Rise feels more plugged in with West London due to transport routes, more youthful, and also the BBC has long been a big employer in these parts.

And so for the first time since our own Hurricane BawBag, the London tornado of 2006, rampaged through these streets, Kensal is on the map for something special. Sacro Cuore is the second opening by the folk behind Santa Maria Pizzeria in Ealing. I’ve not eaten there personally, but I’ve had Franco Manca so many times, I have a vague idea about Neapolitan pizza discipline and etiquette.

From what I gather, Sacro Cuore isn’t a step change from the Ealing outlet. I hesitate to use the term branch, as shrewdly (and reassuringly for chain-snob foodies like me) they have different names. The interior is modern, with groovy, varied lighting and yet woody, as I think pizzerias should be. The huge monochrome graphic of the Bay of Naples is a fantastically dramatic centrepiece to an otherwise undecorated space.

The starters are summery distractions before the main event, like garlic focaccias and bruschetta. We had a burrata to share, which was silky smooth with a slight sour tang, accompanied by some focaccia strips and rocket and tomato salad. Good value at £5.95 – especially compared to the €22 Ibiza burrata of my new avatar.

Now on to the pizzas, which is why we’re all here. And they’re very good. A couple of snags I’ll come to later but generally I was very pleased. The tomatoes were flavoursome San Marzanos and the mozzarella had a slight sweetness.

I had the Diavola which as promised came with heaps of green and red chilli peppers and a prolific heap of salami shreds. We also had a Boscaiola and a San Daniele on our group and they went down extremely well. But not that quickly, as the pizzas here are really quite enormous. They come in at £7 (margherita) to £12 (San Daniele).

On to my small gripes, which may have been unlucky execution on the day: my pizza was a bit soggy in the middle, which I would attribute to a heavy touch on the tomato sauce, good as it was. And secondly I do prefer the crusts more charred and imperfect than they arrived, but I’m not sure how authentic that is, so I’ll put that one down to my subjectivity. 

Service was prompt, but lacking the exuberance from the waiting staff and bravado from the chefs I love so much at expect from a Neapolitan pizza joint..

Overall it’s a great business to have opened in the area, and I’m sure it’ll be hugely popular. I’m now keen to keep plugging through the London’s best pizza lists and posts floating around; I’m not sure this is my number one (Franco Manca’s two chorizo number takes some beating) but it’s certainly a privilege to have such illustrious company in Kensal Rise. I love a good Bufalina, so that's definitely next. 

Food – 8/10 

Drink – N/A - we only had water (see below) 

Service - 7/10 

Value – 8/10 

Tap water tales – 0/10 (swerved with the "filtered" £1.50 nonsense, only value if sparkling) 

Staff Hotness – 6/10

The Lansdowne

The Lansdowne is that pub in Primrose Hill. Every uppity area has one – the pub where the entitled and oblivious drink.  Where you either drink yourself or despise the people that do. A Westbourne Tavern, Salusbury, Freemasons or Sloaney Pony, if you will.

As I don’t live in Primrose Hill, I can occasionally justify circumnavigating my way through horsey gums, gurning gums and 4wd buggies if I’m nearby and in need of a sunny pint of Aspall’s. It’s an incredibly sceney place, but I think that’s probably its best attribute for a non-local; the people watching is brilliant.

Food-wise, in recent times it’s been known for its pizzas, irritatingly served on terracotta plates smaller than the pie, and unsliced, with the dullest knives known to man. The kitchen’s had a revamp with more non-pizza choice and there is a more formal resto upstairs, but pizza won the day.

The Turkish lamb pizza was a bit of a tragi-comic affair. I’m quite the purist with pizza toppings, with a huge exception for Hawaiian, and I wasn’t sure how lamb, cumin and onion (as described) would go down. Perhaps thin slow cooked chunks of spiced lamb? Or lamb pieces cooked in the tomato sauce?

Surely it could not be as tawdry as a pile of lamb mince, indiscriminately splattered in the style of a diarrhoea-prone cat, and with a lemon wedge on top? Which tasted somewhere between 2am doner and 3am resurrection of said doner.

I’m pleased to report that the San Daniele pizza was much better. Wafers of prosciutto adorned by a clump of rocket and parmesan. Simple, tasty and what I remember about the pizza kitchen of this pub from years ago, before they tried to get clever. Or themed, God forbid, like the abominable Fire & Stone and their repellent fare.

The base was incredibly thin though, which I do like sometimes, but it needs more tomato sauce to add some density, because otherwise it dries out to become a crispbread. Both pizzas were about £10-12.

It’s definitely an establishment to experience; you may get celebs or at least wannabes, and you’ll absolutely get babies. Furthermore, you may still get decent pizza, but steer clear of the Turkish.

 

Polpo

Tearing around Soho in 2012, well fed from sharing plates in dusky, no bookings eateries and extremely well watered on prosecco…it’s sometimes easy to forget where it all began. Very few things are truly original, and personally I get more New York than Venetian inspiration, but we all owe a lot to Polpo.

Polpo only opened in 2009, but has trailblazed a path to infamy in a short time. Hot, broody and at times frustrating, it's a natural home for the many aesthetes and louche of this town. I'd never heard of a Venetian bacaro and have no idea what it should be; I found Venice a bit of a theme park but I assume there must be more to it.

The food at Polpo is very easy – while officially eschewing the pizza/pasta Italian schtick, there are several smaller pasta dishes and plenty of pizzette which strategically cover these requisites off for the uninitiated.

On this visit, we had so much that I’m not sure I can capture it, or remember. It’s loud (80s rock and some cheesy power ballads provide a fun, targeted soundtrack) and very boozy. But here goes...

Meatballs are a favourite here, and indeed its offspring Da Polpo specialises in them. The pork and fennel ones have to be the winners, rich in flavour and in a thick sauce. You can order them with spaghettini and get your pasta fix that way. I prefer them solo, devoured messily and whole.

Fritto misto was spot on – hot, salty and yes, I concede, typically Venetian.

The pizzette are another speciality. Prominent, intact egg yolks seem to be a favourite across the Russell Norman stable and the spinach, parmesan and egg pizzette is quite the dish. Attractive, indulgent and begging to be burst.

There are a few more pizzette, possibly too many, considering there were also two on the specials when I visited. The bresaola one I tried was ok – generously topped with slices of cured beef, rocket and parmesan shavings. It was a little overcooked though - as the cheese beneath had dried in, there was no connection or adhesion between the toppings and the base.

Lamb and cannellini stew with wild garlic leaves (nice seasonal touch) was good – tender lamb and plenty of it, but a tad watery and a bit repetitive. The Piglet called it gruel, but I think it was better than that. We had heaps more, but we were too busy putting the world to rights to have pictured it Or even to remember it, frankly.

So while the food isn’t perfect in every execution, it’s undoubtedly very good. The menu is expansive and there is plenty to help line your stomach against the copious negronis and prosecco you’ll definitely consume. The staff waver on that delicate balance between acceptably cool aloofness and just chatting to their mates – some better than others. The guy singlehanded running the downstairs bar deserves a mention – tough job.

And while it has progeny of its own, and many others owe it dues, it still has a unique buzz to. Norman certainly seems to be an expert at creating the right buzz. He’s our own McNally (ignoring McNally being a Brit) although the good lighting and Italian buzz replace the grandiose sense of occasion. No you can’t book, but yes, you can stay all night getting sloshed, and keep your table in peace. 

Food – 8/10

Drink – 9/10

Service - 7/10

Value – 7/10 (food fine, about £6-8 a dish, drinks can tot up though)

Tap water tales – 8/10 (carafes brought and topped up, room temperature though)

Staff Hotness – 7/10 (inked, skinny, youthful - bit into themselves)

 

Pizza Pilgrims

Your humble correspondent is somebody who tries to have their finger on the pulse, but I must confess that I've been not partaken in enough of the the street food phenomenon of the past 12-18 months.

Yes I’ve queued greedily at Daddy Donkey a few times, but I’ve not made it to Eat Street or the Dalston one. Shock horror but I never got to Pitt Cue on the South Bank either. Lucky Chip? Might as well be Essex…

But I do apply myself to the happenings of W1 with aplomb!

A Soho meeting was therefore a great excuse to check out Pizza Pilgrims, two brothers (who might be called Frodo and Sam) drove around Italy swotting up on pizza making before setting up said van with a massive (gas-fired) oven in the back on Berwick Street.

The irreverence and cheekiness of #MeatEasy and Pitt Cue is not found here. This is the most earnest and good-natured of City fugitive stories, and the guys are very friendly and approachable, as are the plummy serving girls they’ve roped in, probably on ‘exeat’.

the operation

But on to the pizzas themselves, rather than analysis of people I met for 30 seconds. I went for a margherita (£5) which was fantastic.

bite missing

Rather 80s looking cubes on buffalo mozzarella melted into hot, creamy, salty pools of gooey, oozing, moist….is there any innuendo free way of writing this? Suffice to say, the cheese was damn good.

The tomato sauce was sweet and full-bodied, and the dough was a spot-on Neapolitan rendition. One tiny personal preference for me is a slightly more charred crust, probably all of ten seconds extra in the oven.

Ideal size for a weekday lunch too, and perfectly priced. With no Franco Manca in W1 and Spaccanapoli (RIP) a victim of Crossrail, those Hobbity pizza slingers have Soho to themselves and a very big foodie future, no doubt. 

Food – 9/10

Drink – 6/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 9/10

Tap water tales – 0/10

Staff Hobittness – 9/10

BrewDog (Camden)

BrewDog have opened a bar in Camden. For those unaware, they are Scotland’s rebel craft brewers, largely renowned for being the whippersnapper antagonists of CAMRA and the purveyors of 41% IPA ‘Sink The Bismarck!’ which had the Daily Mail in a flutter for about 24 hours.

The bar, in an old pub behind the high street, has an equally irreverent air. In fact, when I visited at about 2pm on a Saturday, it was already debauched to the point of Bacchanalian (as opposed to Dionysian at 10 Greek Street, of course).

A beer gig like this can often be hellish, like some sort of Earl's Court convention. Fat, flatulent blokes scratching their beards, sipping at third-pint taster glasses and then sweating it all out.

But not at BrewDog, where skinny trussed-up blokes scratch their beards, sip third-pint tasters and try to out-craft-speak one another. Herein lies the difference.

I guess the BrewDog crowd appreciate bold typography, social media and mantras about PUNKS! whereas the CAMRA types prefer 3.2% milds with twee illustrations of Cornish steam trains. Guess which side of the fence I’m on…

My one gripe is obvious if you go; that BrewDog is a victim of its own success. They’re making an effort in terms of lots of (clued-up) staff, but the place is too small for the demand. I think people actually queue up before opening time.

In terms of the food, it’s basically to soak up the beer. But some thought has gone into the burgers and pizzas, which have crazy ingredients and hipster place names like Los Feliz and Williamsburg. My burger (about £5-6) was the archetype of a ‘dirty burger’ but well executed – oozing cheap cheese, medium rare patty, relish and some cursory veg. Perfect. One red flag was the bun which was a bit hard, and probably from the freezer. Looks pretty anaemic now.

The beer is great of course, but I’m stumped if I could tell you what I had. I know the 5am Saint and Punk IPA made appearances, as well as a 4/3 tasting flight of various things between 7 and 10%. BrewDog sell other breweries’ beers which I thought deserved some credit. No Camden, Meantime or Kernel wares unsurprisingly, but there were some Anchor Steam and Goose Island brews among the lesser known brewers.

Their current collaboration with Danish Gods of craft beer, Mikkeller, meant that a head to head showdown was taking place (with the whole bar in raptures voting for each beer) and it led to this rather snazzy looking fridge of beers.

The fantastically designed Mikkeller range

In summary: arrive early, drink lots, get hungry, eat dirty burger, leave drunk anyway. Brilliant.

Food – 8/10

Drink – 10/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 7/10 (beer 6, food 9)

Tap water tales – 2/10 (don't dare ask!)

Staff Hotness – 7/10 (grizzly hipsters, very well versed though)
 

Salusbury Pizzeria

The Salusbury Pizzeria is the night-time incarnation of their deli and café – itself part of quite the local empire. Notwithstanding all scurrilous rumours of wife-swapping, benefaction and fragile partnerships, the two guys who set up these foodie establishments in Queens Park have always been ahead of the curve.

Like little Russell Normans of the North Weezy, they succeed in creating good, buzzy atmospheres and are excellent product buyers (the wine shop has exceptional food, beers and spirits in addition to regular wines and enomatic bar service too). 

The pizza here is authentically Italian and yet a bit more contemporary in ambition – toppings such as bresaola, nduja, pecorino and pancetta show a respect for their clientele and a more thoughtful approach to ingredients. Even Pizza Express do a rendition of that naughties favourites of prosciutto, rocket and parmesan I believe.

The “pea n ‘am” – or pancetta, gorgonzola with sweet piselli is a handsome looking chap.

This fellow is a pizza bianca with chicken, pesto and mixed peppers:

And this bad boy sports olives, mixed peppers and spicy, crumbled nduja sausage from Calabria. With a little chilli oil, this pizza had a real zing.

Service is friendly and efficient. Drinks are a little bit lacking considering, but I appreciate they may not want to cannibalise their enomatic bar or pub by offering great wines and beers. It’s a popular hang out – punchily priced at £9-11 for a pizza, but some love and thought has definitely gone into these pizzas. An easy, solid week night option for the area.


Food – 8/10

Drink – 6/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 7/10

Tap water tales – 8/10

Staff Hotness – 7/10