TRAVEL | Is VizEat the future of authentic local dining experiences in people's homes?

Camille's Delicious Sunday Brunch, one of the London experiences on VizEat
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It will be no surprise to regular readers of this blog, and followers of my social accounts, that my biggest motivation to travel is getting a good feed. I select my next destination based mostly on what exotic delicacies I can scoff once I get there. Closely followed by natural beauty and wildlife, enthralling cities, and how friendly the natives are. 

When I am eating on my travels, my main agenda is to experience food as authentic and local as I can find. Restaurants with tourists are generally avoided, whereas bustling tin shacks with not an English word spoken often equate to fantastic feasting. Especially if they have strip lighting. I do a lot of research beforehand, and will often try to get in touch with someone who lives there and is willing to show me round one evening, in exchange for a few beers and good chat. This worked supremely well in Mumbai, where I met up with a few people from Food Bloggers Association India. We ate well together.

The ultimate travel dining experience for me, is being invited into someone's home to eat. I've alas, never quite managed this. I was probably closest quite recently in Catania in Sicily. The host of the apartment we were staying in told us of an artist friend she had, who was currently running an exhibition in Catania, and who we should get in touch with if we fancied visiting it. The artist ended up inviting us to join her for Sunday lunch in her home, cooked by her mother (real Italian mama's pasta), which we were all damn excited about. But schedules didn't quite work out, and it alas never came to be.

the different stages of making host Camille's suggested mega brunch tower stack
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Well, I've now recently discovered VizEat, thanks to them finding me online and getting in touch. These guys connect travellers looking to share a meal or food experience with locals. Anything from cooking classes and market tours, to supper clubs and wine tastings, in over 250 cities, in a whopping 110 countries. These locals make up around 20,000 hosts around the world, who are a combination of home cooks and trained chefs, all from different backgrounds. But what everyone has in common is the love for cooking, eating, and meeting new people. My kind of crew.

I'm not entirely sure how I hadn't heard of VizEat before; I think they're well known across the continent, but less so in the UK. But now I have, I think it's such a great idea. They're all about allowing people visiting a new part of the world to make meaningful connections with those who live there. Whilst so many transactions and encounters take place online these days, maintaining the human element of travelling is mighty attractive. And I think many would agree that some of the strongest connections made between people are forged over the breaking of bread. These guys use technology to connect travellers with locals, to facilitate the simple desire of enjoying a meal with others.

brunch scenes with Sally and host Camille
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VizEat got in touch, told me about what they do, and asked if I'd like to try out an experience in my home town of London. And so, a couple of Sundays ago, myself and my good friend Sally (aka The Cafe Cat), popped over to Camille's house in West London to enjoy her 'Delicious Sunday Brunch'. Buttermilk pancakes, creamed spinach, smashed avo, mushrooms, crispy maple bacon, baked beans, wonderful Jing tea, coffee, sausages, fried eggs, homemade jams, black pudding, roasted cherry tomatoes, freshly made juices, cheese, and fruit salad - phew! It was a serious feast, and a pleasure to meet and chat with Camille, and attempt to make friends with her cat (who was less keen).

They also allowed me to run an Instagram competition for one of my readers to win a VizEat experience, in the city of their choice, for two people worth up to 150 Euros or equivalent. Which was very generous of them. Congrats again to the winner, Roxii!

It turns out that VizEat is now the world’s most popular meal sharing platform, and has been called the future of dining by travel and tech commentators (Apple CEO Tim Cook recently joining an event on his latest trip to Paris). Now that I know it exists, I will, without question, be checking out what's on offer next time I'm in a new city. Which is in fact next week.. Best get on it.

the finished mega brunch tower stack - buttermilk pancakes topped with truffle pesto, avocado, creamed spinach, mushrooms, cheese, bacon; topped with a fried egg; furnished with sausage, black pudding, roasted tomatoes and baked beans 

Note: This is a sponsored post in partnership with VizEat. I'm thrilled they found me and that I now know about them. It's been great fun and a pleasure to collaborate on. All views remain my own, as always.

Week 0: Gone travelling. London - see you in nine months

Anyone who’s known me long enough will know that I’ve been looking forward to this week since, what feels like, the dawn of time. 

I write this post in the Heathrow lounge. Tonight, the other half and I get on a plane to another country and we won’t return to this one again until September next year. In other words, we're going travelling.

FINALLY. For so long, this date was still 18 months away, still a year away, still six months away. Now it is finally actually really here. This thing that I’ve been planning for two years, that I have a gargantuan spreadsheet for that would crash most computers, is happening today.

On the note of planning, I’ve really gone for it. The spreadsheet I speak of has a row for each day of the circa nine months we will be away. What started off as a simple budgeting tool has grown into a colour-coded, multi-layered, multi-columned behemoth. It is the life of two people for most of the next year in cell form. If Google ever goes down, we’re screwed (that can’t happen, right?). 

I am acutely aware that at some point, at least once, things won’t go ‘according to plan’. But I had to occupy myself with something for those last few months I was at my previous job and hating it, and having a spreadsheet open is pretty good at making it look like you’re doing work.

The longest I’ve been out of the country at any one time has been three weeks. I’ve only ever visited three places outside Europe (Japan, Sri Lanka, New York), and it took me a year to convince the other half that he also wanted to go (and by convince I mean ground down, with repeated “well I’m going with or without you”. He couldn’t exactly let me go on my own. So he did eventually give in. I think now he is finally excited). 

To say neither myself nor my boyfriend have ever done anything like this before is spot on.

In terms of the route, and all things going well, it should go something like this:



That is India, Taipei, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia, Malaysia, Melbourne, New Zealand, Hawaii, USA, Mexico, Canada, China. The common denominator is the food. These are all countries I’ve been desperate to try the local cuisine in. That, or there are some serious landscapes and volcanic activity to get weak at the knees over. 

I can’t say I’m looking forward to living out of a bag for all that time. I also fully expect the plug to be pulled on my guts at some point; I have an A4 sized ziplock bag stuffed with immodium. No doubt we’ll lose something important, get on the wrong train, be conned out of a few bob, and the rest. 

But I suspect these blips will be outweighed by all the good stuff: meeting new and lovely people, seeing incredible things, eating sensational food. I’m also really looking forward to the more mundane things, like not having to do any washing up, change bed sheets, or hoover for nine months. Each big wins in their own right.

So that it doesn’t sound like I’m on one massive jolly (which lets be honest, this is), I’ve given myself some writing commitments. In terms of the blog and keeping those who are interested up to date, I will be writing a weekly post, published on a Sunday, that will cover the week just gone. 

It will be brief and formulaic (I don’t want to bore), covering things like, my favourite meal, something I’ve learnt, an insider tip, photos, and so on. Also expect some hotel and restaurant reviews, and whenever time permits, I’ll try to write some more feature-type stuff. Sunset and palm tree shots will be kept to a minimum, but if I do become insufferable, I expect someone to tell me.

In between the blog posts, I will be active on social media, the two main ones being Twitter (@LeyLaLaa) and Instagram (thecutlerychronicles).

Right now, here in the lounge, it hasn’t really sunk in. Whilst we’ve packed up the house, drained the water tank for the first time since we moved in, and given everything worth anything to our parents (so if a scallywag does break in, the most expensive thing to steal is the toaster), it just feels like we’re going on a normal holiday.

I’m going to miss this city - I'm already looking forward to the time I see it again. By the time we get back, I believe the London Underground will be running a 24 hour service. Which means no more extortionate 2am Uber fares home.  

Which is just as well, because I’m going to be severely broke.

Friends, family and London, we will miss you. See you in a few X

Related posts

Week 0: Gone travelling. London - see you in nine months

Week 1: INDIA - Mumbai → Goa
Week 2: INDIA - Bangalore → Mysore → Wayanad
Week 3: INDIA - Kochi → Allepey → Kollam → Madurai
Week 4: INDIA - Pondicherry → Chennai → Mumbai

Week 5: INDIA - Varanasi → Udaipur → Jaipur → Delhi
Week 6: TAIWAN - Taipei
Week 7: CHINA & VIETNAM - Hong Kong → Hanoi
Week 8: VIETNAM - Sapa → Hanoi → Ha Long Bay → Hanoi

Week 9: VIETNAM - Hue → Hoi An
Week 10: VIETNAM - 6 day / 5 night motorbike tour from Hoi An to Da Lat
Week 11: VIETNAM - Da Lat → Nha Trang
Week 12: VIETNAM - HCMC → Mekong Delta → HCMC

Week 13: CAMBODIA - Siem Reap (and Angkor Wat) → Phnom Penh
Week 14: CAMBODIA - Sihanoukville & Koh Rong Samloem Island
Week 15: CAMBODIA - Kep
Week 16: THAILAND - Chiang Mai

Week 17: THAILAND - Songkran Festival in Mae Rim & Chiang Mai
Week 18: THAILAND - Bangkok → Koh Phangan
Week 19: THAILAND - Bangkok
Week 20: MALAYSIA - Penang → Borneo

Week 21: AUSTRALIA - Melbourne
Week 22: NEW ZEALAND - Auckland → Rotorua → Turangi → Whanganui
Week 23: NEW ZEALAND - Wellington → Nelson Lakes → Hanmer Springs → Christchurch
Week 24: NEW ZEALAND - Lake Tekapo → Mount Cook → Queenstown → Milford Sound

Week 25: NEW ZEALAND & USA - Queenstown → Hawaii
Week 26: USA - Hawaii (Big Island) → San Francisco (Oakland)
Week 27: USA - San Francisco
Week 28: USA - Los Angeles

Week 29: MEXICO - Mexico City
Week 30: MEXICO - Oaxaca
Week 31: MEXICO - Mérida (plus Uxmal and Kabah)
Week 32: MEXICO - Tulum (plus Sian Ka'an Nature Reserve)

Week 33: USA - Postcards from Washing DC & Cape Cod
Week 34: HOME (LONDON) - The best and worst from the past 8 months - Part 1

the hyde bar, knightsbridge - review

‘Where should I go to eat game in London?’ is a question I’ve been asked more than once, the answers to which can be determined quite simply. 

Any good, seasonal restaurant with a kitchen that knows what it’s doing will likely spend most of the year looking very forward to 12th August, the start of the shooting season. Expect the menus at these sorts of places to be trussed up with some level of pheasant, partridge, wild duck et al. over autumn and winter, and for them to do a decent job with them. 

For example, I’ve had very good pigeon at Petrus, particularly exceptional grouse liver with sweetcorn and hazelnuts at Lyle’s, and a good amount of well-cooked venison in a lot of other places. 

Like looking for your favourite pair of socks and finding them in the microwave, another place to find decent game in town is one you would never think to look - a whisky bar in a Knightsbridge hotel. 

Admittedly, The Park Tower Hotel is as unsightly as you would expect a giant cement-pineapple monstrosity to be, paling in comparison to the opulent and beautiful Mandarin Oriental on the opposite side of the road. 

It looks like a towering 1960’s communist government office block, or a massive battleship-grey hand grenade. Either way, it’s far from attractive from the outside (a lot nicer in, let me assure you), which undoubtedly makes it difficult for people to consider there could be anything worth eating within its walls.

But if you find out a little about the executive head chef commandeering the kitchen at The Hyde Bar (and also at acclaimed seafood restaurant One-O-One - both of which are in this hotel), it becomes a little more believable. 

The family of Brittany-born Pascal Proyart have been in the restaurant business for three generations. He himself spent a decade working in hotels and restaurants across Europe after training at "Les Sorbets" Hotel School in Noirmoutier, and he gained two Michelin stars at the Sea Grill in Brussels, and another two at Le Divellec in Paris.

He counts the likes of chef Eric Chavot (from one-star Brasserie Chavot in Mayfair and two-star The Capital Restaurant in Knightsbridge) amongst his good friends, whom he often fishes with. Chavot taught Proyart a lot about food from the South West and Proyart in turn taught Eric a lot about fish. 

He is also a chef’s chef, esteemed by his peers. Aussignac (from one-star Club Gascon) believes he “deserves fame and recognition” and even Alan Yau is a fan, describing Proyart as “amazing.”

With the kitchen credentials out of the way, let’s look at The Hyde Bar as a venue itself. 

It is unmistakably a bar, there’s no doubt about that. Rather than a restaurant with a lot of spirits, for example. It’s a bar that just happens to have a decent kitchen and a load of game waiting in the wings. 

Whilst I’d say it’s one tailored towards men seeking the feel of a private members club - with its wood panelling, 100 international whiskies, one of the finest cigar lists in London (so we’re told) and an outdoor cigar terrace - there are still good wines and cocktails available for those who prefer their drinks a little softer. 

As you’d expect from a bar, it doesn’t start to get lively until after 9.30pm, when a jazz singer will begin to croon at a grand piano in the corner. As you’d also expect from a bar, the people in it were mostly drinking, with snacks or small plates as food accompaniment, rather than full on game dinners which, I suspect, they had little idea was even available.

But game there was, and out of the nine dishes available that evening, six we did try. 

To partner the seasonal menu and make the most of what this place is particularly good at, three Dalmore whiskies have been selected by Bar Manager Victor Durbaca. The idea is for their rich flavours, hints of autumnal fruits, and aromatic winter spices to compliment the hearty meat-laden dishes. The chosen trio: The Dalmore 12 year old, The Dalmore Cigar Malt Reserve and the King Alexander III.

There was a chunky and rustic wedge of game paté with pickled mushrooms, a fruity blueberry compote and a slice of very smoky sourdough that felt fried but wasn’t at all greasy (£14). A plate of pheasant paillard with a flaking crispy confit leg came with a sprightly Caesar salad, bacon, croutons and sharp hits of cranberry (£19). 

There was the breast from a red-legged partridge, with porky bits, an autumnal salad with tart slithers of apple and grape halves, and a Muscat jus - very good (£17). Roasted duck breast was fantastically dense and full of iron, making best friends with the chewy edges of caramelised parsnips, and a green peppercorn and lime sauce (£20). 

Then there was a hearty and cheesy parmentier - much like a Shepherd’s pie - with venison mince and loaded with Gruyere (£19). And whilst the venison meatballs cooked in red wine and a tomato sauce were a little sweet for me, the hand cut chips they came with were textbook - crisp shells, fluffy middles (£21).

Robust red meats with a whisky flight set in a bar with a cigar terrace must be the blueprint for an ideal evening for many a father, mine included. My dad declared in rapturous voice to Victor, that before that evening, he had only ever enjoyed whisky as an aperitif prior to food. Thanks to this meal, however, he was now wiser to the compliments carefully selected whiskies can give to a meal, much in the same way as wine pairings. And I second that.

Good, seasonal game, from an esteemed and well-decorated chef passionate about hunting, in the whisky bar of a Knightsbridge hotel that looks like a concrete version of those trigger-point foam rollers you find in the gym. 

London, you are full of surprises.

Liked lots: both Victor and his replacement at the end of his shift, Santo, provided exceptional service

Liked less: One of the dishes arrived quite cold. After informing Santo, the remaining were piping hotel and delivered with much apology. Minor gripes like this are inconsequential when taken on board and corrected with the right attitude, as here. It's a shame the outside of the building can't get a face transplant though.

Good for: Being an anti-vegetarian; a good range of game to choose from; taking someone who appreciates whisky; staying for a few drinks after.

3.5/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

Note: I was invited as a guest to this restaurant.

quattro passi, mayfair - review

Should you, dear reader, happen to be a Russian oligarch, Middle Eastern oil baron or a member of an acutely irritating, internationally worshiped teenage boy band, then allow me to assist with your New Year’s Eve plans.

Quattro Passi on Dover Street in Mayfair launched in September this year. At the helm, two Michelin-starred executive chef Antonio Mellino, heralding from the original restaurant on the Amalfi Coast which boasts the glittering accolade. 

On the menu, Amalfi delicacies, from the region of Campania in Southern Italy, with ingredients flown in three times a week. And in the L-shaped dining room, hand-carved leather wall panels, French silk wallpaper, and diners who aren’t shy of a few bob.

They are offering a New Year’s Eve menu of seven courses with a glass of champagne on arrival for £222 (before service, I presume). There is the promise of a DJ below deck in the private lounge area, with the chance to dance the night away as you bid farewell to 2014 and what could have been the deposit on a new car, should you succumb to its bar loaded with fine cognacs, brandies and whiskies.

Unashamedly, this restaurant is tailored to the well-lined pockets of the affluent and uninhibited business accounts. Outside the New Year’s Eve offering and on a normal day, antipasta dishes are between £18 - £40, intermediate courses £16 - £42, mains around £28 - £50 and desserts £18 - £22. You won’t find a bottle of wine for less than £50, and a lot of them are over £100. 

As the old adage goes, “something is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it”, and it seems there are quite a lot of people willing to pay these prices.

It’s also a place for celebrities. It’s polished and dimly lit, and has a chandelier made from a thousand silk petals (celebs - they love that sort of thing). In the short time it’s been open, clients have included Lindsay Lohan having lunch, Valentino hosting his book launch dinner there with Kylie, Hugh Grant and Anne Hathaway, not to mention a host of royalty from far off lands.

I am that person that gets excited when the slip of paper that comes out of the Sainsbury’s till tells me I’ve got £0.72 off my next shop. Therefore, I can safely assume I don’t fall into Quattro Passi’s target market. But I was invited to a trial run of this New Year’s dinner, and I will write about the menu objectively, with my money-is-no-object hat on, my favourite of the imaginary hats.

Marinated carpaccio of Sicilian red prawns in a blueberry sauce

Probably best I couldn’t detect the blueberry in this. Otherwise, very well seasoned raw prawn, somehow fashioned into a square sheet on the plate, with a couple of quenelles of what I think were soured cream. Perhaps a little too prawn-y for some (as my companions mentioned), but it was good for me.

Potato veloute, poached quails egg, white truffle from Alba

A shallow bowl of an interestingly textured velouté, a little gelatinous, but with good flavour and a generous shaving of punchy funghi.

Signature risotto with Sorrento lemon zest

I very much liked the look of this - a piatto bianco - white risotto on a white plate, with strands of zest within the mass that would have been easier to spot had the lighting been brighter. It looked like it had great texture, the plate given a good shake to spread the rice. And the grains were beautifully cooked - fantastic bite. 

But the flavours did not work for me. It seemed too sweet, more like a rice pudding, with medicinal tasting lemon. It was as if it had been grated from a waxed fruit, which I’m pretty certain was not the case.

Interestingly, it was the favourite dish of some of my fellow diners. Which just goes to show how subjective food and eating it is.

Oven-baked daily catch fish fillet with potatoes mille feuille

The catch that day being sea bream, and a very nice plate it was. A well seasoned, well cooked bit of fish - although it could have had a crispier skin - with good potatoes and crisp pak choi nicely dressed with lemon. Nothing too spectacular, just solid.

Fassone beef Fillet with Barbaresco wine Jus de Viande with broccoli flan and porcini mushrooms

The meat here was spot on - succulent and pink. The flan was an interesting take on the vegetable - never before have I had my broccoli wobble. Porcini mushrooms were a good call, the jus tying it all together nicely.

Tagliolini pasta with artichoke hearts and lobster

This pasta shape was a new one to me. It’s a variety of tagliatelle - the classic noodle from the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy - and is long, paper-thin, and cylindrical in shape.

This was a very good dish, wonderfully savoury, with delicate slithers of artichoke hearts and the occasional presence of crustacean. My only gripe being there wasn’t more of it.

Soft sponge roll with chantilly, raspberry coulis and pistachios crumble

A sponge roll, how retro. Like something from the birthday parties of my childhood, it evoked the associated memories. Which are all good. Sharp coulis filled the roll, as well as there being a blobbed crescent of it, along with a small quenelle of tart sorbet. A tangy plate to end on.

Accessories

Bread was very good and made on site, stacked on a small set of portable shelves, a range of rolls, flatbreads and grissini. A little olive oil for glugging would have been good with it. Expect a wooden box of assorted petit fours to wrap up.

We were very generously treated to a wine flight to accompany the meal, each tasting swirled in burgundy glasses big enough to house a goldfish or two (even for the non-burgundy wines).

With alcohol, service and a drink or two at the bar, expect to pay around £350 pp for this New Year’s evening. But the burning question is of course, is it worth it? 

For me - who falls squarely into the ‘mere mortal’ category - no meal is worth £350, whether New Year’s Eve in Mayfair or not. But for many, these sorts of figures are lost down the back of Karelian birch, gilded brass, Kremlin-inspired sofas all the time, without being missed. 

And for those people, this would likely be a very pleasant evening indeed.

Liked lots: service was wonderful, particularly from the exuberant restaurant manager (I forget his name, sorry)

Liked less: the dining table was too high for wee me, sat against the wall on the banquettes. So much so that for the first time in my dining life, I had to sit on a cushion to eat. I'm not even that short (5'3.5 - that half makes all the difference)

Good for: laughing in the face of financial restraint

My rating: 3.5/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

Note: I was invited as a guest to this restaurant.

frescobaldi, mayfair - review

Swing a right down an alleyway opposite Hamley’s on Regent Street, and you’ll find yourself on a quiet and short strip of road called New Burlington Place. The only people that seem to know about it are the cabbies that turn into it from adjoining Saville Row for a three-point-turn, and to drop off the well-suited elite; there’s little else there. 

Except, that is, for new Italian fine dining restaurant and wine bar, Frescobaldi. Despite an almost complete lack of passing footfall, little launch fanfare, and having only being open for two weeks, it was almost full late Saturday lunch time. 

People knew it was on this invisible road, and were coming for it specifically.

If the name rings a bell, you may have seen their restaurant on the lower ground floor of Harrods, their branded Laudemio olive oil sold at Fortnum & Mason, or come across their outposts in Florence and at Rome’s Fiumicino airport.

Their major claim to fame though, and the focus around which this new restaurant is based, is that the Frescobaldi family produce wine, and have done for a very long time indeed (more information on that in this recent Independent article). 

It’s an involvement that dates back centuries. During the renaissance, we’re told they traded bottles with Michelangelo for works of art, and they were major financiers to the kings of England, with receipts signed personally by that great wine-quaffer, Henry VIII. 

Most of their nine estates can be found in the hills around Florence and Siena, and a range of wines from the likes of Mormoreto (a single-vineyard cru of Castello di Nipozzano) to the flagship Frescobaldi cuvée (Brunello di Montalcino Castelgiocondo Riserva) take pride of place on the new restaurant’s menu.

To launch this first independent site in the UK, the Frescobaldis have partnered with Good Food Society, a new hospitality venture promoted by fellow Turk, Levent Büyükuğur (also founder of Istanbul Doors, an international restaurant group with over 40 venues).

They’ve done very well with the interiors. A great wall of glass for the frontage, striking frescos of Italian renaissance characters painted onto the tiled walls, a great central column with shelves housing Tuscan paraphernalia and bottles of wine poured by the glass - it’s a handsome space.

At Frescobaldi, you’ll find the largest menu you’ve ever seen, in size rather than content - open, it’s almost as wide as the wingspan of an albatross. The extra maneuverability the broad and comfortable chairs provide are as good for big bottoms as they are for accommodating the perusal of the massive things; best to read them turned sideways for the sake of a smashed wine glass.

In it, a confident and concise menu with less than a handful of entries under each section: antipasti, carpacci, tartare, primi piatti (pasta), to share (salads, cheese and charcuterie), secondi di pesce (fish mains), seconde di cane (meat mains), contorni (sides).

Bread was great and made on site, the soft and salty focaccia still warm from the oven, crisp Sardinian flatbread entirely void of moisture, and the basket comes with a bottle of that Laudemio olive oil to glug at your pleasure. 

There were rippled sheets of seabass carpaccio with pink peppers, soy sauce and fresh curly celery strips, that could have done with a touch of astringency (£16). The lactating Puglian burrata, with rocket pesto and ripe tomatoes, was just about the creamiest I’ve encountered (£12.50). 

I thought the marinated black Angus beef with lentils and courgettes would come as a salad with cooked slices of steak, and I expected it to be dull. It was actually like a plate of joyous lemony bresaola, with a little gathering of fantastically dressed firm green lentils and tiny cubes of courgette (£15).

The wide ribbons of pappardelle with the veal cheek ragu were gorgeous - great bite and deep yellow from yolk. The pappy but pleasing sauce, quite sweet from the meat, needed the contrasting texture it got from a flourish of small crisp rosemary croutons scattered before serving - very good (£15).

There were small and soft dimpled gnocchi with porcini mushrooms and an earthy umami sauce, although I do like my dumplings sporting the marks of a longer fry (£15). The ossobucco was a loaded plate of flaking veal, flanked by a barrier of unctuous white polenta, and with a great slug of marrow that slipped out of the bone after just a little persuasion (£23).

Tiramisu came in an unusual format, a mound of yellow sponge, coloured from extra yolk I presume, with a moat of coffee sauce and bitter toasted beans. It was cleared in the same amount of time it took me to register it had arrived (£9).

They've been smart in making more of their wines accessible to diners, by offering small and reasonably priced pre-grouped wine flights. You get a taste of three glasses (125ml each), and there are different groups of three to choose from, ranging from £16 - £68. I had the Red Flight “Sangiovese” at £21.

Two female maître d's were wearing the same sophisticated monochrome dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a cocktail bar, and service was charming and very attentive, if a little too enthusiastic at the beginning of our early lunch reservation, when we were the only occupied table.
  
Fellow diners ranged from groups of American visitors, to distinguished and impeccably dressed Italian matriarchs enjoying a girly lunch, to young couples, to a Turkish family, which may have been a Mr Büyükuğur influence.

Like I said, I don’t know how these people knew it was there. I did, because my visit was in the capacity of critiquing it for the consumer publication for British Turks & Turkophiles, T-Vine (thanks to Mr Büyükuğur’s involvement).

But know about it, people seem to. And now you do too. 

Liked lots: accessible and reasonably priced wine flights, interiors, there’s also a very becoming bar below deck to enjoy both wines and spirits in

Liked less: Frescobaldi won’t win any prizes for ‘bargain restaurant of the week’, but considering the location and setting, it’s not trying to. That in mind, with a bit of considered ordering, you can keep a reign on the bill and enjoy a very good meal

Good for: respite from the hectic shopping streets of the West End, impressing a date

4/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun

Note: I was invited as a guest to this restaurant.