tonkotsu - review

Soho Ramen

I’m not one to tempt fate from the sky-dwelling powers that be, but I think it may just about be safe to say that we are finally shrugging off the clinging cloak of winter. And by that I mean it is no longer snowing in April; about time. The daffs have picked up their drooping heads to point towards the source of the unfamiliar and hazy light from the sky, the birds are in full song and pimping out nests ready to lay, and blossom is breaking through buds on the trees. But this was not the case two weeks ago, for when this post applies. The temperature was biting and the wind was bitter, a combination of the two providing the perfect environment for very few activities other than eating ramen.

I shared my desire for a good hot slurping with Mel in the hope that she’d know of somewhere to satisfy these urges and prevent me from going into full hibernation – she always seems to know the best places to eat. And Mel of course did not disappoint – Tonkotsu in Soho had been recommended to her by her Japanese hairdresser and described as ‘excellent’. If you find natives eating in any restaurant, you know it’s going to be good.

Ramen makes up a large part of the Japanese offering when it comes to their excellent cuisine (one of my favourites in the world). It is comprised of a life-giving and deeply flavoursome stock, noodles, a ‘base’ (a concentrated liquor of soy, miso or salt) and toppings. Tonkotsu make no bones (pun intended) about the quality of their stock and the effort they put into making it. The website reveals: ‘Our restaurant Tonkotsu is named after the lip-smacking, creamy ramen typical in Kyushu, Japan’s southern-most island, but found all over Japan.  Tonkotsu ramen’s smooth, silky consistency is created by cooking pork bones for up to 18 hours, which allows collagen and other porky goodness to be emulsified into the stock.’ More of all of that please.

Tonkotsu interiors
- from The Guardian website

 
The result is a milky and life affirming bowl of liquid providing the perfect medium for their incredible homemade noodles to swim about in and compete for centre stage. There’s a great bit of insight plastered on the wall inside the restaurant, about how a noodle machine was shipped all the way from Japan for Tonkotsu to make theirs fresh each day, and how some of the front wall had to be demolished in order to get it through the door. A small amount of destruction a fair exchange for the promise of daily and impeccable fresh noodles, I think.

After an eventually successful but overly drawn out attempt to realise a misguided vision of trying to park in what seemed to be an entirely ‘parking suspended’ Soho (who knows what I was thinking) and joining Mel and Lea at the table half an hour late, I was more than ready to hang my head over a steaming bowl of nectar to ease away the aches and pains of a cold day in the office, also after having to leave my car on the other side of Soho and brave the arctic elements to reach this well-deserved broth. The restaurant does not take bookings and when Lea and Mel arrived (18.30), there was a short queue they had to wait in before being seated. By the time I arrived (19.00) the queue had disappeared and fortunately, there was space available next to my already seated friends. Even if there wasn’t I would have happily sat on my own as the anticipation to eat all of the ramen was almost overwhelming by this stage.

Mel and Lea’s batteries had almost reached full power by the time I joined, having made good headway with their bowls of bounty.  I speedily ordered without much thought as I just wanted something in front of me as soon as possible – ‘I’ll have what Mel’s having’ which turned out to be the Soho Ramen (£11) – a salt base, pork and chicken stock with medium think noodles topped with smoked haddock, pak choi, half an egg, menma (fermented bamboo shoots) and spring onions. After having previously read that the gyoza dumplings were made by hand on the premises fresh each day, leaving without sampling these in addition was not an option – a portion of pork gyozas too please.

pork gyoza

Both dishes arrived swiftly and there was no person in Soho happier than I at the moment they were presented to me (possibly exclude those involved in any ‘happy-ending’ massages). The dumplings were wonderful – fat, slippery, savoury, fresh, flavoursome and like some sort of magical Siamese quintuplet, joined at the base by a crisp layer of casing that had melted and merged when they hit the hot pan. The ramen was served with a large flat wooden spoon and chopsticks – a combination of both tools allowing for maximum slurping opportunity. The portion was generous and the flavours able to elevate even the most melancholy of souls – deep and warming and meaty and completely wonderful with still crunchy greens floating on the surface. 

After having placed my order in haste, I realised it was likely I would have preferred what Lea had chosen , the Tonkotsu Ramen (£11) where the choice of meat was pork belly. My bowl instead contained smoked haddock and while I was expecting a lack of meaty flavour, I was thankfully proved entirely wrong. All of the ramens on offer also contain half a soft boiled egg – this was almost my most favourite thing in the bowl. I believe they were marinated and were just so savoury. Few things go better with eggs than salt.

mochi ice cream

With a large bowl of broth, a pot of green tea and also water being consumed over the course of the meal, top buttons were discretely undone and my belly was swishing about with all of the fabulous liquid it had devoured. To wrap up the meal we each ordered a pretty trio of ice cream encased in a layer of mochi (glutinous rice). This lends to an almost rubbery outer texture with ice cream within and is certainly a novel dessert for me and quite fun to eat. The flavours if I recall correctly were black sesame, green tea and a third I can’t remember.

When next in town, be sure to pay this place a visit. If it’s a wet, cold or miserable day (often more likely than not), then all the better for it. There’s nothing like a quality ramen to help banish any lingering winter blues.

Liked lots - the outstanding egg; ramen broth; noodles; dumplings; location
Liked less - may need to wait for a table
Good for - catch-ups with friends; solitary meals; kicking out a cold; warming the cockles

Alfiyet olsun.

Shelina Permalloo's Mauritian Pop-up - Review

Following on from my previous post, another cuisine rarely suggested when considering a night out on the town to sample the delights on offer, is Mauritian. My mum is from the motherland itself, and despite this I don't believe I've ever eaten in a Mauritian restaurant. Not because I haven't wanted to, of course. I just don't think I've ever come across one.

Course 4: spiced soft shell crab with mango and fennel
salad and sweet and sour tamarind

Actually, that's a lie of sorts. Since moving to South West London around a year and a half ago, I was almost beside myself with excitement when one day I found myself wandering through the stalls of Merton Abbey Mills (next to Colliers Wood tube station), only to hear a conversation in that oh-so familiar language and accompanying accent; a sound I only ever associate with being around family from my mother's side - Mauritian creole. With ears pricked, I was directed straight towards the source of this warming and unmistakable exchange of words and I soon found myself standing in front of a stall - a Mauritian food stall. Laden with home made Mauritian food. Including butter bean curry with roti, gateau banane (deep fried banana fritters), little jars of tiny bullet chillis, seriously hot Chinese chilli oil, and all sorts of other excellent edibles. Almost squealing with excitement, I systematically began to purchase my way through the produce on display whilst getting to know the lady holding the fort. If you're ever in those parts on the weekend, be sure to say 'hi' and grab a curry laden roti or four.

Shelina Permalloo -
Masterchef 2012 winner

One person who I believe has done great things for the cuisine is Shelina Permalloo, the very lovely winner of Masterchef 2012, a British-Mauritian and a self-proclaimed mango addict (who isn't?). I recall watching the series and feeling a sense of pride when she would throw back to her Mauritian roots during invention tests or when they had to come up with three course meals for the judges to sample. In most of the episodes she managed to treat the audience to vibrant and colourful plates of food from her heritage and every time she did, I was left writhing in stomach-growling pain from knowing just how good they would taste, but not being able to get my chops around the spectacle on the screen. Torture in its modern form.

So when I recently noticed a tweet from @shelinacooks herself speaking of a Mauritian pop-up restaurant she would be hosting (and more importantly cooking at) in London, I almost smashed into my laptop in a fervent frenzy to purchase tickets. This was perfect - it was my turn to arrange dinner with my two good friends Mel and Gavin, and what a better introduction to a cuisine they probably hadn't sampled before and that was so close to my heart. And let me just check those details again - five courses for under £30? I didn't even bother confirming the availability of my friends before buying the tickets - as if anyone could turn that down.

'So Mauritian food - it's just Indian cooked by French people, right?', at least an attempt from Gavin at deciphering this underestimated and lesser-known cuisine. But incorrect, all the same. Sort of. As I've mentioned in my Mauritian butter bean curry post, Mauritian cuisine is a wonderful mash-up of the tastes from a range of far flung lands. The tiny island manages to churn out people from all different ancestral heritages due to the numerous settlers that have made the island their home over the ages. In Mauritian food you will find influences from France, Africa, China, Portugal and India with many of the dishes completely unique to the island.

The meal was held at The Thatched House - a pub in Hammersmith and a part of London I don't venture to all that frequently. The front of the pub and bar area were soon heaving with clientèle,  the majority present for the culinary delights soon to be bestowed upon them alongside what were most likely a few regulars no doubt confused by the sudden influx of people anticipating a slap up and exotic dinner. On entering, I immediately spotted Shelina and what I believe to be the two other finalists from Masterchef 2012, feverishly toiling away in the open-fronted kitchen. Once it seemed full headcount had arrived and the kitchen was ready to begin service, we were soon ushered towards the back of the venue where tables were laid for 60-odd guests ready to receive their dinner.

Course 1: Chilli Cakes with Mauritian Coleslaw & Mango Mayo

The first course consisted of chilli cakes with Mauritian coleslaw and mango mayonnaise. These were harder than expected, in fact proving quite difficult to pierce with a fork in order to cut into bite-sized chunks. While the texture wasn't quite there, the flavour was good but all three of our palettes would liked to have been on the receiving end of a bigger hit of chilli in the cakes themselves. With our table being from Chinese, Tamil and Mauritian backgrounds, none of us are afraid of heat but I think the meals may have been tailored to a more Western palette, which I supposed is understandable.

Round two delivered to us a plate of fragrant king prawns with Creole sauce (rougaille) and pickled papaya. Vowzers. In all it's simplicity, this was one of my favourite dishes of the evening. A bed of a wonderfully flavoursome rougaille, taking me right back to the smells from my mum's kitchen, topped with some big fatty bombom prawns. Rougaille is a typical Mauritian sauce using plum tomatoes, garlic, thyme, and chilli and it was quite excellent. Add to that pickled papaya and you have a winning dish in my eyes - pickled anything always slides down my gullet with little resistance. Mel and I had no problems dipping the prawn heads into the sauce and sucking out the brains with gusto, even stealing some of Gavin's - his fire for prawn entrails burning less brightly.

Course 2: Fragrant King Prawns with
Creole sauce and Pickled Papaya

Third up was a course I highly anticipated after first reading the menu when booking the tickets - open roti with mutton curry, pickled red onions and a coriander and coconut chutney. I challenge anyone to tell me that doesn't read fabulously. And in reality, it met expectations. The roti was perfect - not too thin and happy to encase chunks of tender mutton devoured with fingers - no use for cutlery with this dish. Flavours were defiant and this pleased me. There was still room for more heat for my own personal palette, but this lacking did not detriment the overall quality. The only real faltering is that I could have done with more of it for the amount of roti there was. Or in other words, being greedy.

Course 3: Open Roti with Mutton Curry, Pickled Red Onions
and Coriander & Coconut Chutney

Course four certainly looked the part - a whole soft shell crab encased in a spiced batter, a mango and fennel salad and sweet and sour tamarind. However it was a little disappointing when it came to the eating. While the latter two mentioned were tasty enough, I felt the crab itself was lacking something, something to really wallop the chops. Was it acidity? Spice? Chilli? Seasoning? Maybe all of the above. Unfortunately, I found it leaning towards bland when compared to the other dishes and what I was expecting.

Mistakes can be permitted and that aside, the five courses were topped off with molasses biscuits, mango, lime, toasted marshmallow and a rum caramel. Yes please. Densely chewy sweet biscuits sliced through by the citrus from the lime and all beautifully complimented by the other flavours on the plate. My companions found this course to be too sweet for them which was interesting as I didn't, and I am severely lacking in a sweet tooth. I soon relinquished a position of defence once I realised the situation meant more dessert for me.

Course 5: molasses biscuits with mango, lime,
toasted marshmallow and rum caramel

The five solid courses were topped off with a sixth liquid - a shot of spiced (and strong) Mauritian rum. While I'm almost certain it was supposed to be sipped and savoured, Gavin decided to hark back to our university days and launch it down the gullet in one swift movement - and each respectfully to their own.

All in, the food was a delight. A couple of the courses could have been improved (namely the chilli cakes and soft shell crab), but an equal proportion of the dishes were quite magnificent (the praws with rougaille and the mutton curry). Shelina made sure to visit each table after service was over with a beaming smile and tentatively asking 'was it ok?' - I think she did great. As someone who is half Mauritian, I'm proud of Shelina's achievements in helping raise the awareness of this wonderful and diverse cuisine and I hope she continues to do so. I'll be waiting in line to taste anything else she plans to cook and share for the future. Did I mention she also lives down the road from me in Tooting? I may knock on her door for a cup of rougaille some time.

It's worth visiting her website as she has many recipes on it (including some from this evening) and I believe most of them to be Mauritian. It's not a difficult cuisine to try out and I'd suggest everyone to give it a go: shelinapermalloo.com

To sign off, a quote stolen from Shelina's website:

"You gather the idea that Mauritius was made first and then heaven, and that heaven was copied after Mauritius" - Mark Twain, 1896.

I should probably get myself over there at some point.

*cough*honeymoon?*cough

Alfiyet olsun.

Note: as the venue was quite dark I have stolen some of the photography from Shelina's Facebook page. Apologies for the two grainy ones that are still my own.

Dinner by Heston Blumenthal at The Mandarin Oriental, Hyde Park - Review

Dressed Snails (c.1884)

Parsley, beetroot, salty fingers & red wine juice

There's been a lot of anticipation around the table we had reserved at Dinner by Heston Blumenthal - a one star Michelin restaurant located in the Mandarin Oriental Hotel adjacent to Knightsbridge tube station.

I think a lot of this stemmed from the contestants from Masterchef: The Professionals having the kitchen doors of The Fat Duck welcome them in to both witness and replicate the wonders that take place in its vicinity - this is another of Heston's restaurants located in Bray, Berkshire and opened in 1995 (that long ago? I know). Its three Michelin stars has also seen it voted the best restaurant in the world in 2005. I was transfixed to the box and social media was rife with both gushing adoration over the molecular gastronomy on display, and outright disdain at what many view as a pretentious concept with science having no place in the kitchen. 

And I'll admit, a few moons ago I used to think along similar lines. However, his ever increasing TV presence and feedback from friends of colleagues who have met the man himself, he actually seems like a nice guy - not pretentious at all. And this Masterchef episode got me very excited about the experience that both he and his establishments are looking to give their clients.

Contrary to its name, Dinner serves both dinner and lunch and is viewed as the larger, more accessible, centrally located little sister of The Fat Duck. The menu is inspired by historic British gastronomy and this is represented by every item on it being accompanied by the year that the dish first came to be. 

I was fortunate enough to have the week off work and my two lovely acquaintances, Mel and Lea, were able to wangle a free afternoon, so we decided to opt for a slightly boozy and extended girlie lunch on Thursday. 

There is an a la carte available but the set menu is a good deal - three courses at £36. Set lunch menus at high-end restaurants are a fantastic way to sample the delights the establishment has on offer, without having to fork out for the higher prices that come with an evening meal. However, quite often the lunch will only be available during weekdays as is the case at Dinner. If you happen to work centrally then it's something that is well worth making a regular treat - as EatLikeaGirl does very well in her Posh Lunch Club.

The restaurant is spacious and in fact quite larger than I expected, able to accommodate 126 covers at any one time. There are floor to ceiling glass walls with one side providing a wonderful view into Hyde Park and another providing full view of the kitchen and the unique pulley system they have in place which serves to rotate the spit on an open fire. We were seated next to the kitchen allowing us to periodically glance at the numerous chefs during their stages of preparation and cooking.

Our very warm and approachable waiter explained the concept of the restaurant, talked us through the menus and with the most minimal of arm twisting enticed us to begin with an aperitif in the form of a glass of sparkling wine which came recommended and was in fact delicious - a first for me as I usually don't care for liqueur from white grapes. We placed our orders from the two options for each course from the set lunch menu, and between the three of us covered everything on it. Always a great excuse to dip the fork into the plate of your companions.

Our sourdough bread was delivered with some lightly salted butter - this was in our opinion far too hard and crunchy to eat without having to hide the mess your mouth was making in an attempt to masticate it. A passable situation to be in when with good friends, but I can't imagine this to be the case if your visit is part of a business lunch, which many were clearly there for. 

Regardless, our starters soon arrived and mine was the Lemon Salad (c. 1730) - smoked artichoke, goats curd and candy beetroot. Beautiful on the plate and the freshness from the citrus hit the nose before even bringing the fork to my mouth. The sharp complimented the creamy cool goats curd wonderfully, with regular interjections of bitterness from the leaves on the plate. For any that know me, citrus and sourness in general is one of my most favourite flavours so my starter went down a treat, even if it didn't quite have a 'wow' factor.

Lemon Salad (c. 1730)
Smoked artichoke, goats curd and candy beetroot

Mel and Lea opted for the Dressed Snails (c. 1884) as their starter - a notably beautiful and autumnal looking dish quite arresting in the quality of natural colours presented on the plate. Both burgandy and golden yellow beetroot against the vibrant greens from the parsley sauce and samphire, it was quite the picture.

There is only one flavour in the world that I find very hard to embrace and I actively avoid - it is that of aniseed. Liquorice, fennel, fennel seeds, sambuka, Ouzo, Raki and anything else along those lines is a glaring and flashing no no. It's a huge shame though as fennel looks so incredibly appetising - I just cannot stomach the flavour of aniseed. The mains on offer were duck and fish. 

When eating out, I will more often than not opt for the option I am least likely to cook at home and this is usually red meat - I try to regard it as more of a treat than a regular consumable. So in any other situation, I would have immediately opted for the duck. However, it was delivered with smoked confit fennel and so I swiftly avoided and instead opted for the Roast Ray Wing. As soon as our mains arrived and I sampled some of the duck that both Lea and Mel ordered, I realised this was a mistake. 

Out of the list of aniseed flavour bearing goods mentioned above, fennel is probably the least offensive and I really should have given it a go in such a reputable establishment - it was subtle and crunchy and the duck meat was beautifully sweet. Immediate bout of food envy at the table - dammit. Served with a silky potato mash, rich jus and complete with duck heart (umbles), I'm still kicking myself.

Powdered Duck Breast (c. 1670)
Smoked confit fennel, potato purée & umbles

The fish dish was - ok. Whilst looking very attractive on the plate, I feel most of the flesh was slightly over cooked - more chewy rather than flaky. Working my way across from one side of the fillet to the other, the last forkful was undercooked - while the flesh was opaque there were strings of red blood in it which I'm almost certain shouldn't have been there. 

I pointed it out to the waiter who apologised and said he didn't know why that was there - to be honest I did expect him to return after showing it to the kitchen with a further apology or gesture of good will, but it wasn't mentioned again. 

For a Michelin star restaurant, I don't think this was acceptable. Despite this, the parsnip and butter milk purée was almost unrecognisable, it was that smooth. My brain was tasting parsnip but I was still trying to understand the journey it took to end up as this texture - very pleasing. The voluptuous brown butter sauce dotted with fat and juicy capers was also well received and did not over-power the fish.

Roast Ray Wing (c. 1954)
Parsnip & butter milk purée, sea beet, brown butter & capers

My first dessert (yes first) was much more of a success. Once again, I am immediately drawn to the promise of fresh citrus on a menu and this did not disappoint. A fantastic combination of textures - crunchy sugar crystals topped with a quinelle (I learnt that from Masterchef) of mandarin and thyme sorbet - oh I can still smell it as I type. 

This was alongside a type of sticky and soft orange flavoured bread, with wafer thin crispy segments of mandarin perching on top. It was very good indeed, looked wonderful and a fantastic way to clean the palette.

Orange Buttered Loaf (c. 1630)
Mandarin and thyme sorbet

Mel chose the prune and tamarind tart of which I of course sampled. Whilst a simple looking dish, the skill in obtaining perfection and elegance in a tart is no mean feat and was executed very well, with perfect pastry, smooth set custard and a caramelised top. And again proving to me that whilst flavour combinations may not immediately entice in print, they can and often do pleasantly surprise as was the case here - prune and tamarind not being something I would immediately opt for but it was in fact delightful.

Prune and tamarind tart (c. 1720)

The same waiter that persuaded us to treat ourselves to sparkling wine as well as the usual bottle of red, also enticed us to opt for a second dessert and final course of ice cream made at the table. We had spotted the spectacle taking place at other tables and I think had already made up our minds that we wanted it at ours. This is the sort of molecular gastronomy you expect from a Heston restaurant so it was difficult to turn away. 

It consisted of a manual hand-turned mixer being wheeled up to the table with liquid nitrogen being poured into some vanilla custard and churned by the machine. After a few seconds and evaporated nitrogen bellowing out from the mixing bowl, the ice cream was complete. We had a scoop in an ice cream cone with freeze dried raspberries and popping candy as our toppings. At £12 each it was probably a bit pricey for what it was, but you of course also pay for the theatre.

All in, the lunch was a very pleasant experience and I would recommend it. This was down to a combination of the service which was excellent, my companionship which was of its usual very high standard, and the dishes that were good. 

I feel I was a little unlucky with my main choice in that I missed out on the better dish, and the issue with my fish fillet. It's also worth noting that the options available for vegetarians are decidedly mediocre according to a colleague who visited for an evening meal with his vegetarian wife. But that aside, it was a very good lunch. Very good, but certainly not mind-blowing (and still not as good as Lima which is my most favourite restaurant I've eaten at of recent months), but that's something I certainly would expect from somewhere like The Fat Duck. I just need to find the funds and try to secure a table there first - both easier said than done.

Alfiyet olsun.

'Twas the night before Christmas..

..and I've taken the executive decision to open the first of my presents early. These are edible gifts (the best kind) and came from my good friend Mel.

I have also decided they deserve their own blog entry because they just look excellent - they have been wrapped up so beautifully. Not only do they contain jars of homemade goodness, but completely homemade wrapping. We're talking custom made stamps to print onto the round labels; pretty stamped circles of fabric hand sewn onto the larger fabric tops; and all sitting pretty in a wicker basket wrapped in snow flake cellophane. Clearly made with a lot of love and care, and much appreciated.

I have:

• Raspberry and cranberry jam
• Rhubarb and orange jam
• Prune, apple and walnut chutney

Quite sure she could have sold these for a decent profit. But instead I got them - joy.The chutney will get an outing this evening along with a delicious cheeseboard. Can't wait.

I should definitely start wrapping presents now..

Happy Christmas!

Alfiyet olsun.

Lima in London - Review

braised lamb shoulder / coriander & pisco jus
/ black quinoa & white grape

I’ll be the first to admit there isn’t a huge amount I know about Peruvian cuisine, other than what the odd Facebook holiday snap has taught me from friends who have undertaken the obligatory year of travelling before starting any real work (pangs of envy fully acknowledged), opting for South America rather than the equally well-trodden Far East. Which is that they eat guinea pigs (what a philistine).  But what I did know was that I certainly would not turn down the opportunity to learn more, an offer in the form of an invite to visit Lima (alas, not the actual city) in London with two very good friends.

Our table was booked for 7pm and on arrival, I was greeted by a young woman very pleasing to the eye who directed me through the narrow channel running along the length of the bar at the front of the restaurant.  It lead to about 15 tables at the rear against an understated but sophisticated neutral backdrop, interrupted by a burst of colour from a piece of abstract art on the back wall and a scattering of bright Inca patterned cushions.

Lea & I

The menu was brief – a telling sign in the confidence of its content.  Yet it still managed to result in many minutes of painfully toying between the offerings - their highly appraised sea bream ceviche or duck crudo to start? The crab or confit of suckling pig for main? They were fighting it out on the page and in the end I ordered none of the aforementioned, instead succumbing to the octopus and the lamb. Along with one of Peru’s signature cocktails of which we all indulged in – a pisco sour.  These were served light and frothy, depositing the remnants of a milky moustache from the whisked egg whites whilst leaving the mouth reeling from an invigorating, lip-puckering sourness with every sip. I could very easily start every morning with one of these.

The meal began with a presentation of a delightful amuse-bouche along with our bread basket, in the form of a shot glass sized serving of wonderfully creamy and coating pale yoghurt with the characteristic tang of acidity from one of quality, shocked with a bright green coriander sauce.

The starters soon arrived and were quite glorious in their presentation – my octopus was braised and served on a bed of white quinoa alongside lilac polka dots of an incredibly intense olive sauce.  The charred edges of the meat that caught the pan were crisp and concentrated in their flavour, marrying very well with the fruity familiarity of the olives.

braised octopus al olivo / white quinoa
/ botija olive bubbles

duck crudo / algarrobo tree honey /
shaved fois gras / ghoa cress

Lea was keen to sample the ceviche of which there had been many favourable references to in various reviews. Whilst looking delicate and dainty in the bowl, I knew nothing about what it contained and immediately assumed a bout of food envy on Lea’s part when compared to the presence of Mel’s silky duck slithers, or the chunky charred tentacles on my plate.  

I duly and politely dipped in a spoon to sample the unassuming milky liquid housing pieces of barely opaque fish. And, well – the mere half teaspoon of this nectar was enough to nearly blow me right out the front door with its chop-walloping splendour.  The barrel gun impact of sourness and salt with an allium and chilli presence exploded on the palette, the tongue smacking the roof of the mouth in reflex to such a taste sensation.  Coupled with the spanking fresh sea breem it contained and the crunch of the salty corn kernals for texture, it was really something else - a whole paragraph dedicated to a dish I didn’t even order says something. 

I subsequently found out post-meal what a ceviche is – at its most basic it is raw fish marinated in citrus, salt and seasonings with the acid in the juice denaturing the protein in the meat in a similar way that cooking does. Or in other words, something I need much more of in my life.

All hail the mighty ceviche
- with sweet onion skin & inka corn

Plates were cleared and our mains were delivered while I was still preoccupied with thoughts about the dish that got away. However, I had a new task to address sitting under my nose and in need of attention – a neat hunk of braised lamb shoulder lavished with a coriander and pisco jus, alongside black quinoa and white grape. 

The meat was beautiful - a concentrated and slightly sticky crust encasing soft and moist flesh providing almost no resistance against the fork. The snippets of sweet from the grape worked very well in contrast to the deep flavours from the lamb. 

Mel’s confit of suckling pig was generous in its portion size with a sticky richness and a perfect amount of bite from the puy lentils, and Lea’s crab was an absolute riot of natural fresh colours, almost arresting in their iridescent quality.

crab / purple corn reduction
/ huayo potato / red kiwicha

Lea ordered the dulche de leche ice cream which was pleasant when I sampled it, particularly with a touch of the set Amazonian maca root honey smeared onto the side of the bowl. I had the cacao porcelana which is essentially very similar to chocolate fudge – the crunch and teeth-sticking quality of the blue potato wafers worked well with the silky texture of the chocolate, along with the hint of sharp sweetness from the mango. 

Mel ordered the Andean kiwicha (another South American super grain like quinoa) with sheep’s milk, purple corn and pineapple jelly, and a cinnamon crust. Contrary to all the other dishes, this one didn’t look as appetising on the plate.

dulche de leche ice cream / beetroot emulsion
/ amazonian maca root honey

cacao porcelana 75% / mango & hierbabuena granita
/ blue potato crystal

Whilst still good, I felt the desserts were the weakest of the courses. However, the sheer unadulterated joy provided from the previous dishes was so all-encompassing that it really didn’t matter. The meal, my company, and the whole evening was a full on pleasure steam train ploughing through the Peruivian landscape and absorbing all it had to offer. It was a sublime way to spend a cold Monday evening, and I shall without a doubt be returning.

Afiyet olsun.

burger and lobster - review

Burger and Lobster, Dean Street – delivers what it says on the tin.  It serves burgers (one way), it serves lobster.  And nothing in between.  The burger is cooked to your preference, comes with lettuce, tomato, red onion, thick cut bacon and a square of processed cheese.  The 1.5lb lobsters can come hot, whole and in shell, either only steamed or steamed followed by a lick on the grill.  To accompany it, a garlic and lemon butter sauce.  Alternatively, you can request the lobster cold and in a brioche bun.  All dishes are £20 and all are served with a tin of thin cut fries and a small side salad.

For a menu with just three items on it, a good range of palettes are in fact catered for here. Not many people would turn down a thick juicy burger prior to a night painting the rest of Soho red, or for a brisk bite to eat after a theatre showing.  And for those who are after some lighter, posh chow and a photo opportunity, a whole deep pink lobster spread-eagled on a huge oval plate meets the requirements. It's a venue that has no qualms about its brazen lack of accomodating the vegetarian, and I like that.

My two friends Mel and Reggie accompanied me to dinner, meeting early in order to avoid as much clipboard queue at the door as possible – the restaurant only takes reservations for groups of six or more.  We had all arrived by 6.10 but weren't seated until 6.45.  The venue is cavernous, with a single floor of diners and a huge area downstairs where the toilets could be found, and probably the kitchen.  The format of the dining area are booths and tables, it’s aiming for high-end fast food and a quick turnaround. The odd lobster tank was visible - I suspect these only for display with the big guns that actually supply the kitchen surely needing to be almost room sized in order to meet the huge demand for crustaceans over the evening.

Once seated in the already heaving restaurant, we were greeted by a spritely, American-esque red head who attempted to crack jokes and informed us in her spare time she fenced competitively.  She reeled off the three piece menu – there’s nothing on paper as there isn’t really a requirement with such few items. All three of us came for the lobster which at the same price as the burger, is much better value. My two companions ordered them steamed whereas I requested the steamed then grilled option.  They arrived within a few minutes, huge and attention seeking, ceremoniously placed on our table before us.  Glance over your shoulder or at the table to the side of you, and you’ll see at least one person with a camera or phone taking a picture of themselves and their dining partners raising huge claws towards a cheesy smile, like a sea-dwelling trophy. The concept of this place has unashamedly cashed in the average client's unquenchable thirst to share every waking moment of their existence with the rest of the globe via social media, and why not. That's a lot of free advertising.  

Provided with your meals are disposable plastic bibs with a characteur on the front of what looks to be a stereotyped French waiter with a curled mustachio. While we took the obligatory photograph with these wrapped around our necks, I noticed the waiter that had served our meals was identical to the drawing on the front of bibs. Turns out he’s Sicilian, his name is Michaele and there was a story about his face and the bib somewhere in what he was saying, but his wonderful thick accent and the general noise in the venue prevented me from deciphering it.  Not to mention the fact Michaele’s attention was fully directed at Reggie, with Mel and I not even getting a look in. Funny that.  

All in all, my lobster was ok. The meat wasn’t as sweet as I would have wanted.  The lick of smoke was welcomed, but the thicker parts of the lobster were chewy.  My companions said theirs were fully tender, so I put it down to the effects of the grill causing some rigor in the flesh.  The butter sauce whilst having hints of garlic, had no evidence of citrus as advertised.  Acidity was much needed to cut through everything on the plate and so I had to request some wedges. The crustacean comes with the main parts already separated so you can get on with extracting the meat with the lobster fork provided, but the flesh in some claws were inaccessible and required a lobster cracker. With the waiter pre-occupied with other customers, we all promptly started to bash the claws on the table with the handle end of our knives to create an access point for our lobster forks.  Turns out this was a very effective way to grab the attention of the staff – lobster crackers swiftly delivered.

Whilst the plates seem daunting in their size when first presented, the lobsters aren’t that filling.  And so there was more than enough room for dessert.  Our red-head informed us what was available – a cheesecake or a chocolate mousse with a salted caramel base.  One of each were requested and were delivered in small cardboard cartons.  The cheesecake was far too sloppy – whilst the flavours were good, the texture of the bulk of it was almost liquid.  The chocolate mousse however, with the salted pieces of peanuts covered in caramel, was a sheer delight.  Three spoons attacked the latter and I missed out on the last piece because I was too busy talking.  What’s new. So we ordered a second mousse and promptly devoured it. The three of us were in the full swing of excellent chat when we were very sweetly, but rather annoyingly asked if we could hurry it up a bit.  If a joint is going to serve wine by the bottle, I don’t think it’s fair for them to request you to get a move on when your glasses are still half full - I like to savour my wine.

The staff we encountered were pleasing, particularly Michaele who was quite the fan of my friend Reggie and making eyes at him at every opportunity.  He told us next time we come to request to sit in the area he serves so he could spend some time with us – I’d like to do that.  I will return - I will try the lobster steamed and request extra lemon in advance.  My company was also top notch.  Dinner started at 6 with the intention of it being a civilised and early evening – events didn’t quite go according to plan and we ended up in a cocktail joint dancing on the bar on a school night until the wee hours.  But that’s probably another story.

Liked lots - staff; atmosphere; novelty of a whole lobster on your plate; location
Liked less - waiting for a table; if you get the burger option the value for money isn't as good
Good for - groups of friends; being raucous; taking London visitors to

Alfiyet olsun.