24hrs of eating in soho

For those wanting to experience a true slice of London life without the rose-tinted spectacles of well-kept tourist attractions and stately buildings obscuring the view, there are few better places to while away all hours of the day than at its pulsating core; the area mainly bound by the arterial routes of Shaftesbury Avenue, Oxford Street and Regent Street, also known as Soho.

Never was there a truer representation of the full spectrum of the walks of life that call this city home than within this approximate square mile of London. With a history steeped in entertainment and stimulation of every nature, you would be hard pressed not to find something that floats your boat with an unrivalled buoyancy.

The coarse queens of Old Compton, the vinyl votaries of Berwick, jazz junkies on Gerrard, Italian expats and strong espressos on Frith, working girls gyrating on Green Court, media creatives with sockless feet in loafers, Big Issue sellers and suited city traders swigging pints, pushers and gawkers, pimps and poets, preachers and prostitutes, titillation and tourists, clip joints and clerics, cops and robbers, Hare Krishnas and celebrities, musicians and poppers, even a Church of England primary school - you name it, Soho has it.

When it comes to entertainment in this neighbourhood, Soho caters for every penchant and predilection under the sun: theatre, cinema, striptease, brothels, kitsch cabaret, massages, drinking, book stores, narcotics, people-watching, dancing, debate, religion, stand-up comedy, live music, and galleries to name a few. Generous in its provisions to satiate so many base human desires, Soho does the more socially acceptable one exceptionally well too - food and eating it.

One could easily argue, is there ever really a need to leave? A question often posed in my four years living and studying in the surrounding areas. A pocket of London I adore and one that can understandably be quite the distraction. Here’s my personal guide of how to sustain yourself for 24hrs in this decadent district. 

Breakfast

Pick up a print that takes your fancy from Wardour News (118 - 120 Wardour Street) - one of the most impressive ranges of publications for sale in a newsagents you will ever see. From international newspapers to specific high-end editorials covering food, fashion, the gay and lesbian scene, travel and a whole lot more - if it’s in circulation, you'll find it here.

Armed with your niche glossy, head over to Nordic Bakery to start your day in the exceptional way the Scandinavians do so well.

Fika the early morning away with quality coffee, cinnamon buns, dark ryes topped with smoked salmon, herrings, and revel in the peace. Expect to share the space with some of the Soho creatives attracted by the clean lines of the interiors, and that have likely played a part in designing your reading material.

cinnamon buns at Nordic Bakery

Lunch

To keep it closer to home try out Damson & Co (21 Brewer Street). A much welcomed British deli and coffee house specialising in British cheeses, charcuterie and ceviche - possibly three of the best things to eat, ever. With cool and industrialised interiors, friendly and knowledgeable staff and exceptional sparkling red wine (who even knew there was such a thing), it’s a great option to kill an hour or two whilst consuming some quality fare.

Should the taste buds tingle for the Middle Eastern flavours of tahini and pomegranate molasses, head over to Yalla Yalla for Beirut street food. With a wide range of small plated mezzes (all served with pitta, olives and pickles) and larger mains to select from, you can either share with companions or indulge in a satisfying and solitary fill.

Another great option for a lively lunch enjoyed with friends is Barrafina where you’ll find some of the best tapas in the city. Stool perching allows visitors to embrace the true style of tapas with such traditional plates tempting diners as pan con tomate, prawn and piquillo pepper tortilla and tuna tartar. Expect a wait occupied by nibbles and drinks in the standing area while seating becomes available (they don’t take reservations) and keep your group to four or under.

octopus tapas at Barrafina

Dinner

If the evening calls for life affirming liquid goodness to help rest weary feet, you’ll be hard pressed to find a better place than either Tonkotsu or Bone Daddies, both purveyors of exceptional milky and deeply flavoursome Japanese ramen. In a similar vein, Koya will deliver on sublime udon noodles served cold with dipping sauces, or in hot broths and presented simply and with elegance.

Should the occasion befit a fine-dining splurge then Michelin starred Yauatcha is unlikely to disappoint. Serving high-end Chinese food from steamed buns and dim sum to hand-pulled noodle and rice dishes, along with delights such as jasmine tea smoked ribs and Mongolian style venison, this self-styled contemporary dim sum tea house will certainly tick all the boxes for a special occasion, but do prepare for a dented wallet.

For something a little more accessible, head over to Pizza Pilgrims where two brothers have moved from selling Napoli-inspired pizza from their three-wheeled Piaggio Ape complete with pizza oven (driven here from Italy), to bricks and mortar in the centre of Soho. Sourdough pizza bases blistered from the authentic clay gas-fired oven and rich San Marzano sauces complete the experience. Stick to the marinara or margherita classics for some of the most authentic pizza you’ll eat outside Napoli in this city.

the Pizza Pilgrims pizza oven

Late night

Pull up a pew outside the late night coffee-culture stalwart of Soho that is Bar Italia serving quality strong coffee to ardent followers from 7am to 5am every day since 1949. A haunt for Soho residents, coffee connoisseurs, creatives and ex-pat Italians alike, it’s a perfect place to banish the onset of fatigue and observe the ebb and flow of life on these streets in the small hours of the morning.

Before the dawn

For the insomniacs, vampires and those who simply refuse to call it a night, Soho’s 24hr dining venues lend a shoulder to momentarily rest tender heads while the party continues on around. When the body is beat but the brain thinks it’s breakfast time, Balans is a sure bet for decent eggs served by flirtatious waiters keen to continue the evening’s frivolities during their shift.

If the hankering is for a second dinner to soak up the sauce then the Chinese fare served at Old Town 97 (previously '1997' when I used to frequent it many a hazy evening - 19 Wardour Street ) will hit the spot like an arrow on a bullseye. Gather your comrades (including the new ones acquired during the course of the evening) and chow down on some perfect crispy Peking duck and pancakes. For mains and to re-awaken the senses, select your preference of carbohydrate and request a chilli oil so hot you could only ever entertain it inebriated.

A night in

With eyes squinting at the dawn of a new day breaking over Soho Square and energy reserves fast depleting, the realisation that the rest of the day will mostly be spent recovering on the sofa hits fast.

With foresight still functioning, make a beeline to Lina Stores once they open to gawp at a huge array of floor to ceiling Italian delicacies, charcuteries, cheese and brimming bowls of antipasti. Purchase a portion of their delicious and fresh ravioli made on the premises daily by pasta chef Gianni, and select from such tempting flavour combinations as beetroot with goats cheese, spinach with ricotta, or veal. Chuck them in boiling water, drizzle with olive oil and you can retreat back to the dark of the living room.

Squeeze in a sit-down at one of their outside tables, drink an espresso and digest the splendour that was the previous 24 hours before heading home.

pasta chef Gianni with all his handiwork at Lina Stores

Soho is one big delicious sullied multi-faceted melting-pot of an oxymoron at the heart of our capital city. Give it your unbroken attention for a full day and you will be rewarded with stories worth telling. 

For as the English author Samuel Johnson once quipped, ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford’.

a.wong, victoria - review

‘Oh, you’re joking. You are joking. Why didn’t you tell me?’; cue the accompanying dramatic fall of head into hands. This was the response I received from Zeren Wilson of Bitten and Written when I informed him that, upon recently finding myself in the barren culinary landscape that is Victoria, I was stumped as to where I could go for a good lunch.

A quandry easy in which to find yourself in this part of town. During lunch and the commute the streets ripple with pressed-for-time suits, fading to an equally boring lull for the remainder of the day. It has a big train station, a massive bus garage, a few huge glass-fronted offices, seemingly unending runs of Wicked and Billy Elliot at the Victoria Palace and Apollo Victoria theatres, and some not-too-terrible fashion stores. 

By way of places to eat, it’s about as dry as the eastern Sahara: ubiquitous sandwich and coffee chains, Giraffe, Dim T, Yo! Sushi, a Sainsbury’s ‘Market’ (whatever that is) - it’s all underwhelmingly meh. Except, that is, for A. Wong on Wilton Street.

‘A. Wong. A. Wong! You should have gone to A. Wong; it has some of the most innovative modern Chinese cooking in the city. You need to go for lunch, for the dim sum lunch.’ As Zeren continued to lament over my missed opportunity, I feverishly finger-swiped my way through my Google calendar to find a free lunch spot. To reinforce the decision, and by some well-placed coincidence, both Richard Vines and Andy Hayler tweeted about visits in the following days. Bumped to the top of my restaurant hit-list, it was.

The name above the door is that of London-born Andrew Wong, a chef that has travelled and worked in China, and responsible for transforming the old family restaurant (known as Kyms) into the slick, double-fronted, bright-eyed offering it is today. 

The kitchen has moved away from well-represented British-Cantonese cuisine, now focussing on creative dim sum and regional dishes. It is both open and fenced in by a bar propped up mostly by solo diners in for a quick dim sum fix, with the tabled-seating available generously spaced. Each morsel from the 25(-ish) dim sum plates offered at lunch are individually priced allowing for relaxed and unfettered finger-pointing at whatever dumpling takes your fancy. And most, if not all of them, will.

Pork and prawn were delicate siu mai embellished with a light and crispy pig skin hat. Scallop puffs on a beach of pearly tapioca powder looked like burnished-orange flowers mid-bloom, drizzled with potent XO sauce, revealing succulent meat within. Balls of sticky sesame foie gras were so near-perfectly round that on delivery, one duly rolled off onto the table; quickly administering the 3-second rule for fear of a waiter meltdown, they had a pleasing chew but there was little detection of fattened liver. 

Quail egg croquette puffs on scattered crispy seaweed concealed still-runny yolks beneath golden quiffs of light batter, accompanied by a really good and salty ginger and spring onion dipping sauce; one of my favourites. Shanghai steamed dumplings placed on spoons were consumed whole, the thimble of ginger infused vinegar within released in the confines of the mouth - also very good, although the Taiwanese has had them with slightly thinner skins (in Hong Kong).

The unmistakable aroma of a truffle dumpling registered with our olfactory bulbs before the basket reached the table - Yunnan mushroom and pork sporting generous gratings of the black stuff - a touch of earthy and very well-received dim sum indulgence. Crab, seafood and beancurd cannelloni with pickled cockles, whilst a picture, didn’t match the rest of the offerings.

The dandan noodle dish with striking egg-yolk colouring was like an Asian bolognese with a rich minced beef sauce and pickled vegetables; the type of food where, anything less than bringing the bowl up to your lips to sink the last bits of gravy, would be an insult.

Then there was a chocolate sphere concealing tobacco smoked banana, revealed with theatre as the shell disintegrated under the hot soy caramel sauce poured over it; accompanied by a nutty scattering of crumble, it’s just about everything I look for in a dessert. A playful plate of coconut ice cream, glutinous dumpling, apple, pandan jelly and peanut cream came furnished with some candy floss and was too, very agreeable.

I now understand the flurry of recognition associated with A.Wong - not only are the things coming out of the kitchen very good indeed, they’re different. I haven’t had dim sum like this before, and the Taiwanese (who has had a great deal in her time) declared it as ‘possibly some of the best I’ve ever had’. Not to mention that during our visit a photographer from Tatler Magazine was snapping away for their 2014 restaurant guide. With accolades piling up all around, Andrew and his team are set to go places. I’ll be returning for the few remaining dim sum I didn't gobble on my first visit, and that 10-course tasting menu.

Liked lots: dim sum, dandan noodles, desserts, full view of Andrew and team in the kitchen, individual and very reasonable pricing of dumplings, more unusual ingredients, waiting staff, a corker in an otherwise quagmire of poor eateries
Liked less: seafood cannelloni
Good for: great takes on classic dim sum, venturing to Victoria for, business lunches, lunch on a whim (sit at the bar), great bites before embarking on a long train journey, dates, view of the kitchen (sit at the bar)

My rating: 4/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

asma khan's calcutta-chinese supperclub - review

“Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai” is a saying that translates from Hindi as "Indians and Chinese are brothers". I know this because it was the response my Indian companion gave me, when I asked on route to dinner, her thoughts on the Indo-Chinese menu that awaited us at Asma Khan’s supper club.

I suppose it makes a lot of sense. China and India are two of the world’s oldest civilisations and have co-existed in peace for millennia. The first Chinese emigrant to settle in Calcutta was a Mr Yang Tai Chow in 1778 followed by many more, bringing with them their cuisine and culture. Not to mention Chinese is probably the most popular street food in Calcutta and what we would be sampling at dinner (both nuggets of insight shared by Asma to give the evening context - I am alas not a walking encyclopaedia of Indo-China relations).

Proceedings began with one of the best dishes of the night, chicken thupa. A thin broth occupied by shreds of soft 6hr slow-cooked meat full of flavour from the bone, homemade noodles, vegetables, garlic and ginger. A bowlful of well-being originating from Tibet and immediately recognisable as at home within those climes. With nurturing qualities to make any Jewish mother discreetly dab at a moist eye, it lulled me into a comfortable sense of ‘Asma is going to look after me this evening’.

And that she certainly did along with 26(ish) fellow diners, all seated in a quite beautiful open plan living room and dining space in her West London home. Chinese style beef momo dumplings I witnessed being parcelled up in the kitchen were steamed and served with a green chutney. The delicate casings housed chunky shreds of beef cooked with garlic, ginger and onions and the chutney was blow your scalp off, eye-sweating hot. 

Vibrant green and with tongue-tearing fire, I kept returning to it like a crazed masochist thanks to the incredible flavour from the coriander. It was zippy, refreshing and on the verge of self-combusting simultaneously - really very good. 

Crisp deep fried dumplings stuffed with very well flavoured chicken cooked down with onions and spices were served piping hot with spirals of steam rising from the breached skin, and so very wonderfully savoury; they did nothing in the way of pacifying my blistering tongue but who cares when you’re devouring parcels of joy.

Platters piled high with two ways of chicken made the rounds. Boneless chunks marinated in lemon overnight with delicate flavour and intermittent nuggets of quite glorious crispy bits with more intensity, and chilli chicken on the bone cooked down with green peppers and the signature Catonese influence that is a cornflour sauce coating. 

Tender beef slithers stir-fried with chillies were very satisfying between the teeth and smoked chilli garlic prawns were fat and firm. The beef hakka chow mein with homemade noodles had delectable pieces of meat, but the plate needed a little more oomph to compete with the rest of the menu.

Then there was manchurian gobi; cauliflower florets combined with a very rich and quite sweet tomato sauce that would have been just as at home stirred into a pan of steaming pappardelle and served with a few basil leaves. Despite my companion feeling as though the florets should have been crisper from their deep fried treatment and the sauce needing more garlic (she is well acquainted with the dish), this was my second favourite plate of the evening - I loved it.

Proceedings concluded with fruit chaat and a jelly intense with the flavour of coconut; the latter sporting an opaque layer from its milk and a transparent one from the juice. The texture was much firmer (and therefore more pleasing) than the wobble western offerings present. 

Whilst I would have liked to see more vegetables on the non-vegetarian menu (I really liked that gobi), and despite proceedings finishing a little late for a school night (a few people had to make their excuses before dessert as the clock approached 11pm), the menu was a great success with each morsel executed with knowledge, skill and most of all, a lot of love.

It's worth noting that at the time of moving to the UK in 1991 with her husband, Asma was bereft of the knowledge to even boil an egg; the distance she has come since then in terms of skill and success is inspiring. In 1993 Asma visited India for several months, determined to master the recipes and techniques from her ancestral kitchens that had been in her family for four generations. Since then, she has not looked back; via her business Darjeeling Express you will find her hosting supperclubs, pop-ups, private catering, cookery classes and more.

Upcoming Darjeeling Express events can be found on Edible Experiences but if you'd like to get in touch with Asma directly, you can reach her on Twitter @AsmaKhanCooks or drop her an email at darjeelingexpress@hotmail.co.uk.

I'll certainly be returning for Asma's highly-acclaimed Indian supper clubs - it's all some of the people I know ever talk about.

My rating: 3.5/5

Cost: £35 (please note this may vary)
BYO

Afiyet olsun.

ba shan, soho - review

Chinese restaurants get a lot of stick. At least, they do from me. This is because most of them are appalling. 

Greasy piles of substandard meat and carbs swimming in radioactive sauces, slopped onto plates or stuffed into tin vessels, with a side of self-loathing big enough to make you want to drain the MSG directly from your veins. Menus read of generic fried vegetables with a stock protein in a thick sauce, dozens of chow mein options, and a selection of sweet and sour dishes and fried rices; plates of fodder adapted to be blander, thicker and sweeter for the Western palate. This is not what Chinese people eat. 

These routine menu items do nothing to accurately represent the full repertoire of Chinese cuisine: the country is enormous, as is the range of cooking that goes on there. Food is regional and style is distinctive, with influences taken from resources, climate, geography, history, cooking techniques and lifestyle.

The province of Hunan is located in the south-central part of China; a little piece of it can also be found in Soho with the name of Ba Shan above the door. Owned by the people who run the Szechuan sister, Barshu, over the road, it boasts an all Hunanese menu developed with Chinese food expert Fuchsia Dunlop. If your idea of a great meal is having your chops whalloped with fire and flavour, there is little need to entertain the thought of dining anywhere else in town.

Piquant preserved yard-long beans chopped into chewy segments provided an unusual but stellar texture for the vegetable. Stir-fried with stiff boards of salty Chinese bacon and slithers of preserved crisp garlic, it was a piled high plate of spicy and savoury splendour. 

Square slabs of crispy fried tofu with soft middles saturated with black bean sauce squelched between the teeth, the dark viscous extract coating the inside of the mouth with its sloppy fermented pungency. Both plates were furnished with festive chunks of hot green chillies and even hotter red and both had me at their complete mercy - these are precisely the sort of flavour sensations my palate craves for on a daily basis.

A heap of aubergine mush pounded into submission with garlic and sesame presented still in its mortar, and a plate of slippery wood ear fungus, did wonders at pacifying blistering tongues. The glistening quivering dark mushrooms looked freshly hauled from a sea bed; dressed with vinegar, garlic and chillies they were cool, tangy, crunchy and slipped down barely touching the sides.

The restaurant decoration keeps with tradition, with Chinese lanterns, dark wood and walls adorned with images of Chairman Mao. Service was perfectly acceptable; whilst perplexity flashed across the faces of several waiters at the request of additional coriander (a request left unfulfilled - ‘it’s just for decoration, we don’t have any more’), tea was topped up, words were said smiling and despite advance warning of a 1.5hr time limit for the table, we were there for two with no problem. In other words, for a Chinese restaurant, the service was excellent.

The heat from Hunanese cuisine, whilst almost ubiquitous in its presence, is less of the type that leaves a fat tongue hanging out of your mouth in a desperate search for cold lactose. It’s more penetrating than that, permeating through to your core and the very marrow of your bones, leaving a subtle tingling sensation at the corners of your mouth on the way in. I don’t know how they do this, but it’s excellent. 

This is food that doesn’t just pay a visit to your taste buds, it conquers them outright. Planting the flag of flavour firmly into its new found territory to mark its occupation, the food from Ba Shan will leave an impression deep enough that you won’t be able to hold off your next visit for too long.

Liked lots: all of the food; the location
Liked less: was a little quiet at the start, but background music played later on; the menu link on their website is broken (prevents pre-dining anticipation build up)
Good for: authentic, fresh, real, regional Chinese food at good prices; blasting away a cold

My rating: 4/5

Afiyet olsun.

school of wok cookery school, covent garden - review

‘Teach a girl to make Chinese steamed buns..’ could be the start to so many great sentences. Pursuits that end in wowing friends with dim sum dinner parties, eating nothing but steamed buns for the rest of your life, and ditching the day job to buy a small cart and compete against the old timers selling them on Newport Court in Chinatown.

Many would argue only one of these to be a realistic aspiration (present company included). But on walking out of School of Wok after six hours of cooking, kneading, rolling, stuffing, pleating and folding, with aching feet, pumped forearms, flour in my hair, and a new appreciation for my favourite dim sum, it felt like they were all possible.

School of Wok is an Oriental and Asian cookery school situated in Covent Garden. Founded and commandeered by Head Chef Jeremy Pang, the school hosts a variety of hands-on classes and corporate events taught by a number of chefs, covering cuisines including Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, Thai and Japanese. Classes range from one hour quick-fire wok lessons to multi-day intensive courses for professionals and topics involve a manner of subjects from knife skills to wine tasting, and street food to sushi making.

After obtaining a university degree in biochemical engineering, entertaining some years in marketing, studying at the world famous Le Cordon Bleu and a stint as a travel journalist around South East Asia, in 2009 Pang followed his dream of opening a cookery school. Initially starting out as lessons taught in people’s homes, School of Wok moved to the centrally located bricks and mortar complete with two state of the art kitchens 18 months ago. 

Lessons teaching skills and techniques that simply do not translate through the written word are of particular interest to me. Videos will go some way in achieving this, but there is no replacing an expert overseeing your work and the back-and-forth of questions and guidance. The full day ‘Steamed Bun Fun’ course taught me things I genuinely don’t believe I could have learnt to the same degree, off my own back.

The morning agenda ensured we worked up the appetite for lunch. Meats that required a long and low cook to enjoy with buns at the end of the day were addressed first following very simple recipes. Seven of us were split into two groups; rich and savoury braised pork belly in fermented tofu, and an Iranian influenced shoulder of lamb with pomegranate, quince and jasmine tea were both prepared and dispatched to the ovens.

Hirata buns (the type found at Yum Bun) are sandwich-like in design, folded in half and destined to be stuffed with a filling. Components consisted of a starter dough to which additional dough was formed and added. The mass was kneaded, rested, manipulated into cylinders, portioned into ping-pong sized balls, rolled into ovals, folded in half over oiled chopsticks, placed in bamboo steamers and left over hot water until they were risen and spongy.

To slather over them, mayonnaise was made in pairs and flavoured with sesame, lime, garlic and ginger. One half of each team gradually added oil to egg yolk while the other whisked with fever, the thought of an imminent lunch counteracting the lactic acid pain (alternation was imperative).

Jeremy pitched in by rustling up the meat component; slithers of chicken thigh marinated in liquid smoke, sesame oil and soy were coated in corn flour and deep fried. Excess oil was drained and they were then swiftly tossed in a hot wok with garlic and chillies. We eagerly stuffed them into our sweet buns and topped them with a cucumber and carrot pickle.

Post-lunch proceedings saw us taking the skill level up a deep notch. We were to make two closed buns requiring two types of fold, one more difficult than the other; custard buns and char siu bao (that puffed up pillow of porky goodness I adore). 

Fillings for both were ready to use to allow dedicated concentration to the rolling and folding techniques needed to make these a success. The char siu (barbecued pork) comprised of belly cooked in sugar, soy and spices had been finely chopped into a huge soupy bowl of dark and sticky meat. Custard choices were two: coconut, and a beetroot cocoa nib filling - both frozen to allow for easier handling.

We rustled up the dough for both and attempted mastering the precise circular rolling and intricate pleats required for the pork buns; several attempts were made with faux fillings before Jeremy let us lose on the pork. The custard buns were a lot easier; with some swift rotational hand movements the nuggets of frozen custard were soon encased in uniform smooth dough.

Most of us were still full from our lunchtime hiratas and after a well deserved glass of wine, departed with doggy bags crammed with our labours of love; the three types of buns, the slow cooked meats emerging from the oven soft and flaking from the bone, and a pack of all the recipes used that day.

The cost of this full day course which includes lunch and an early dinner is no small change at £150, the higher end of their offerings. But if thought of as an investment in culinary skills and expertise you would be hard pressed to come across elsewhere, it is certainly a treat to consider. 

On the tube home I found my fingers dancing on my lap as they manipulated an imaginary bao. My final thoughts before bed that evening were ‘how the hell do chefs works on their feet all hours of the day?’ and ‘I am determined to own those char siu pleats’. As Jeremy advised, I’ll be throwing together makeshift dough from flour and water and practising in front of the TV until I do.

A huge thanks to Jeremy for exercising such patience, sharing a wealth of knowledge and expertise and for making the day a great experience - it comes highly recommended.

Afiyet olsun.

Note: I was invited as a guest to School of Wok

hakkasan hanway, dim sum sundays - review

Hakkasan is the long-serving establishment that did the slick-lined, low-lit, subterranean celebrity haunt thing before most others. Since 2001 it has served as a dining vestibule for evenings often ending in whichever night-life hotspot is currently most impenetrable. 

It certainly lends itself to this clientèle. The interiors are dimly lit enough for wisp thin socialites of the evening crowd to avoid interacting with the food without attracting too much attention to the fact. There’s a lot of black leather, dark wood and deep pockets. 

And it’s probably one of the only restaurants in London (other than The Ritz) to exercise a desire for certain attire: ‘Our dress code is smart casual. No sportswear. Jeans are permitted as long as they are worn smartly with shoes and a collared shirt. Please do not wear hats inside Hakkasan.’ I’m not sure the girls blinding waiters with full body sequins were planning to do so whilst wearing their Converse.

In an attempt to broaden their customer base beyond tourists, business men and debutantes, Dim Sum Sundays launched in the tucked away Hanway Place branch in September this year. The menu available each week from 12-6pm is a rather good excuse to get sloshed during daylight (but in the dark) whilst eating good food to the backdrop of beats chosen by the lounge DJ (thankfully proving to be nothing more than elevator music). 

There are two set menu options with the main difference being the volume of alcohol involved. If you were hoping for a dry lunch, hope some more; at a minimum you will be drinking two (strong) cocktails. At a maximum add to that half a bottle of Perrier-Jouët Blason Brut Rosé Champagne (blimey). Unless you opt for the non-alcoholic drinks, of course. Witness any good intent to boycott the booze dissipate as the desire to get your money’s worth overrides. 

The atmosphere was freer and less self-obsessed than I recall in my last visit on a Friday night some years ago when the corridor to the ladies acted as a makeshift catwalk runway. But one would hope so, at 1pm on a Sunday afternoon. 

Pre-lunch cocktails were quickly followed by a crispy duck salad with well textured nuggets of meat slightly sweetened from a glaze, lifted by fresh segments of pomelo and sprightly salad leaves.

From the option of seven steamed dim sum, we selected smooth and transparent har gau bonnets filled with firm little shrimp with bite, Chinese chive dumplings with prawn and crab meat topped with goo and a goji berry, spicy seafood sauce and scallop rounds with Thai asparagus and lingzhi mushrooms, and morel mushroom and lemon sole mouthfuls - the superior and most discernible of the four.

Then there was the fried, baked and grilled course and while the same swathe of golden glow adorned all four of our choices, shapes and designs were interesting enough for us to wonder out loud how they were achieved. 

A light and crisp pumpkin puffball encasing a smooth middle of the gourd flesh itself along with the (apparent but undetected) presence of smoked duck, creamy lobster meat rolled in ultra thin rice noodles and fried into something lighter than air, Shanghai dumplings with ground pork, and poofed up pear and taro (starchy root vegetable) balls with another beautiful centre, and in the shape of pears!

From the small eats we swapped out the two available options in exchange for the salt and pepper squid from the alternative menu at the cost of a decent course. 

It came heavily battered and fried; an unwanted vision after previous plates of the same vein. Bereft of the levels of (white) pepper needed to satisfy the two present of Chinese and Taiwanese heritage, it was not befitting of its label; "this has been made for the western palate and is not at all authentic". It was a plate of slightly better than bog-standard calamari and was an effort to entertain.

For mains, a luminescent grilled hunk of Chillean seabass made a vibrant orange from something I don’t believe we ever identified. The Chinese honey coating rendered it too sweet for my palate after a couple of forkfuls, but the flesh was cooked so precisely that despite the sugary mouth, I was unable to leave it alone. Soft and smooth, just the right side of opaque, breaking away in meaty flakes with a slither of crisp fatty skin full of flavour. Really very good.



To accompany the bass, pak choi with al dente whites and wilted tops cooked with Shaoxing wine and garlic (I could eat barrels of this), and a wad of sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaf, punctuated with nuggets of sweet Chinese sausage and grainy salted egg yolk.

To conclude, a choice of three desserts, the best of which I selected. A smooth and fudgy dark chocolate bar shot through with a very cherry sauce along the length of its centre, with a sweet and tart cherry sorbet imparting the sensation of submerging my head into a bucket of them freshly picked from the tree. 

Also of note was the elderflower sorbet with the strawberry panna cotta, chantilly cream and elderflower jelly - one lick of the spoon left a ringing of the tak-tak sound of sourness as the tips of our tongues smacked the roof of our mouths. The macaroons were ok, mostly with indistinguishable flavours.

With the meals came endless pots of freshly brewed loose leaf Taiwanese tea; delicate, cleansing, refreshing and altogether more preferable to the cocktails, the post-lunch ones of which remained mostly untouched.

I was duly impressed with all courses, particularly my dessert but excluding the squid. And should one's lunch desires involve a good saucing on a Sunday afternoon, the value is of note when considering the drinks involved; the menu described above is £48 and the one including the champagne is £58. Quite reasonable for an establishment that has retained it’s Michelin star since 2003.

The praises from the Taiwanese and Chinese were a little muted. Whilst they enjoyed it, proclaims of ‘but I have had better’ followed any accolades. The day I too eat truly authentic dim sum in China or Taiwan itself is the day I suspect I may mirror their sentiments. Until then, I'll settle - in the loosest sense of the word - for Hakkasan.

My rating: 3.5/5

Afiyet olsun.

 

fresh spring rolls

The sticky pork ribs contained flavours from the Orient - soy, Shaoxing rice wine, Sichuan peppercorns, garlic and ginger and I knew they'd be crying out for something light, fresh and crisp to help compliment the viscid richness of the glaze smothering all that meat. Sticking with the theme, some fresh spring rolls with a punchy dip was decided upon.

I've mentioned the huge Chinese supermarket Hoo-Hing a few minutes walk from my house before here, and it was from Hoo-Hing that I procured some rice paper sheets for the spring rolls. It's the first time I've used them and they're pretty cool - hard and brittle circular sheets of what initially looks and feels like plastic with some sort of embossed pattern on them. To transform them into something more workable, simply dip into a bowl of luke warm water until they become soft and delicate. They tend to stick to themselves once out of the water so it takes a couple of goes to get the knack and not tear them.

Rice paper rolls are common in Vietnamese cuisine - served soft and can be filled with crisp vegetables and herbs and eaten cold, as opposed to other spring rolls people may be used to which use thin pastry as the casing, are fried and served crispy and hot.

You can really compose the salad of anything you want. For example I haven't included any bean sprouts or water chestnuts, both of which would provide some lovely additional texture. But stick to the dressing / dip and tweak to taste as you wish. And of course, serve with those sticky ribs.

Fresh spring rolls

Makes 12 - 14

For the salad
50g dried vermicelli or fine rice noodles (see Tip below)
1 baby gem lettuce
2 spring onions
1 large carrot, grated
A load of chopped coriander
A load of chopped Thai basil
A load of chopped fresh mint leaves
Juice of two limes
12-14 rice paper sheets

For the dipping sauce
2 tbsp caster sugar
2 tbsp rice vinegar
60ml fish sauce
2 red chillies, deseeded and finely chopped
1 garlic clove, peeled and grated
1 spring onion
A sprinkle of chopped coriander
A sprinkle of chopped mint

To rehydrate the vermicelli noodles, soak them in boiling water for 3-4 minutes until they become soft. Drain and refresh under cold water. Shake off excess water and leave to one side.

Tip You can see the brand of noodles I bought in the picture, also from the Chinese supermarket. You might have difficulty finding this and rice paper in a standard supermarket. It's certainly worth locating your nearest one if you haven't already. And they're actually 95% mung bean - which I thought was cool.

To make the dipping sauce, mix the sugar, rice vinegar, fish sauce, chillies and garlic and mix well until the sugar has dissolved. Add the remaining ingredients. Mix, taste and adjust accordingly.

To make the rolls, roughly chop the noodles in a bowl and mix with the vegetables and herbs. Add the lime juice along with 2 tablespoons of the dipping sauce and mix together. Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding more of the sauce if needed.

Dip a rice paper in a bowl of luke warm water until soft and pliable. Splash a board with a little water before placing a rice paper on it (this will stop it sticking). Put a spoonful of micture into the centre of the paper and fold the bottom up and the sides in, then roll up tightly into a spring roll shape. Repeat with the remaining mixture and rice papers.

Tip If your water is too hot, the rice paper will become soft too quickly for you to be able to handle properly and you'll inevitably end up tearing them. So stick to luke warm water.

Tip You can make the rolls ahead and keep them in the fridge until you're ready to serve. I think it's better this way as the rice paper gets a chance to harden slightly which in my opinion provides a better texture.

Serve them with the dipping sauce on the side and enjoy.

Alfiyet olsun.