chakra, notting hill - review

Many a cow sacrificed itself to kit out Chakra in Notting Hill. Whilst there is an expected absence of beef on the menu, there is a strong bovine presence; leather covered tables, sunken cream leather chairs and dimpled leather banquets, padded leather walls - there’s potential to moonlight as a sectioning ward. 

The space does initially feel like someone went wild at the everlasting DFS sales. The off-white colour scheme is one most restaurateurs would run a mile from, particularly for a cuisine with staining powers that would render even the most concentrated dose of Vanish as redundant. 

But along with the shimmering chandeliers, classy cocktails, well-drilled waiting staff, and clientele that boasts a few celebrities, it packages very nicely as an up-market and lavish dining destination set in an affluent part of town.

Owned by Andy Varma also acting as executive chef (having previously launched the now closed Varma in Chelsea), the menu aims to bring the traditions of the Maharajah kitchen to diners. The atmosphere encourages customers to come in, sit a while, and take their time; seating is just about the most comfortable I’ve come across in a restaurant, if you’re partial to feeling like you’re in a living room whilst eating.

All tables were presented with small bites of delicately spiced red kidney bean kebab with good texture, and a complimentary three-tiered assembly of vessels housing chutney and fresh, crisp poppadoms scattered with cumin seeds.

Khumb bharwa received immediate approval from our waitress, “They’re one of my favourite things on the menu” - buttons stuffed with cool paneer and potato, spiked with sweet pomegranate and coated in a vibrant yoghurt marinade (£9.95).

Smoked Gressingham duck breast rolled in spices - the meat relaxed by the tenderising qualities found in papaya - was quite spectacular. A texture and richness in iron similar to chicken liver (which I adore) - smooth and gamey and with little bits of char that caught the heat. The accompanying salad was entirely superfluous, but they’re difficult to get away from in Indian restaurants. But that duck was great (£13.95).

In the same breath, patiala chaap lamb chops that had spent valuable time wallowing in a lemon, yoghurt and garam masala marinade with presence of cardamom, were, simply put, the best texture of this cut I have encountered. It’s they’re signature dish and they’re proud of it:

“We call them the second best lamb chops in London.”

“Who is the first?”

“Well we think it’s us, but we can’t say we’re the first.”

The modesty. Meat soft enough to make molars an entirely unnecessary accessory in the endeavour of eating them (£14.50).

When you’re on such a good red meat roll, it’s difficult to stop. Using a recipe from Aminabad in Lucknow, flattened patties of venison galouti kebabs with chilli, garlic and ginger were as pleasing between the teeth as they were on the taste buds (£11.50). Parcels packed with flavour, more softness.

Filaments of Rajastan-inspired lightly battered and fried okra were salty, well spiced and supremely crisp, exposed seeds a little puffed up from the heat. Sporting a flourish of mango powder and roasted aromatic carom seeds, they were impossible to leave alone. Someone needs to package these and sell them with cold beer - I can think of few better things to snack on (£4.75 / £9.95).

A luxurious black daal cooked long and low, finished with cream and fenugreek (£4.75 / £8.50) was a delight with butter paratha (£3.50). A bowl of tandoori roasted and pureed aubergine cooked down with ginger and onions (£4.95 / £9.50) had us dragging the mush up the sides, scooped up in torn bits of peshwari naan (£3) and popped into mouths.

The food here was more than pleasing, with a particularly favourable nod towards the meat dishes. My one gripe is the price point. Some things feel expensive for the volume you receive. The chops were indeed magnificent, but £14.50 for two small ones is a lot. A tenner for five little stuffed mushrooms is a lot. As is three quarter slices of paratha for £3.50 and a bowl of raita for £5.50.

Notting Hill isn’t my local neighbourhood. If it was, it would probably mean my financial circumstances would be such that I’d barely notice the optimistic prices. And it seems this is the case for those who are locals.

On arrival at 1pm on Sunday there was one couple seated, soon followed by the well-to-do - more couples, groups of friends, Indian families. I suspect they’ve been before, and none seemed deterred by the prices. I suppose business is all about knowing your market and something is only worth what others are willing to pay for it. Whilst an outsider of the well-heeled Notting Hill elite may feel it's expensive here, it seems to be appropriate for its location.

There is undoubtebly good cooking taking place in Chakra’s kitchens. If you’ve got the pockets for it, it’s certainly a worthy visit as part of London’s Indian dining scene.

Liked lots: the way the kitchen has with red meat, Rajastani okra fries, very good service, they do a very pleasant lychee and mint mojito that isn’t too sweet
Likes less: it feels expensive compared to other Indian restaurants of a similar caliber
Good for: having a splurge and enjoying a good meal whilst doing so

My rating: 3.5/5

Find the menu on Zomato.

Afiyet olsun.

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

the rum kitchen, notting hill - review

It could be the Mauritian in me, but wave the prospect of rum, rotis, calypso music and sunshine vibes in front of my nose and I’m first in line. Situate these in Notting Hill - one of the epicentres of London’s vibrant Caribbean community - and you have a great next-best substitute when a flight to the Port of Spain is still a depleted bank balance away. The Rum Kitchen looks like the sort of place you could imagine on a white sandy shore, full of natives whiling away languorous hours over games of backgammon and tumblers of dark rum - but with a dose of London refinement. 
White and azure blue outside with colourful interiors, barmen in floral shirts with excellent accents, mis-matched and multicoloured seating, walls emblazoned with local patois phrases and a background of reggae beets. The laidback beach-shack setting beguiles the careful consideration given to the food and its presentation - there are even linen napkins.

Island spiced baby squid were great on their own drenched in lime, but the scotch bonnet mayo was difficult to ignore when it tickles the back of the throat with the kind of climbing heat that’s heading straight for the nose lining (£6.50) - excellent. Rotis were neatly cut into triangles resembling quesadillas - I would have preferred them whole and ready for me to tear through, flung into a stack on a side plate. But they tasted good, as did the smoked aubergine and burnt tomato with garlic dips for them.
The mutton curry was everything those two words together should be - yielding hunks of slow cooked meat wallowing in a rich, spiced gravy, served with slaw and rice and peas for mopping (£12.50). Jerk chicken supreme was full of juice and sitting atop a mound of sweet potato and yam mash and more jerkin' goodness (£13.50) For balance, a rainbow salad, with sweet and fibrous mango, roasted squash, creamy avocado, firm chickpeas, shaved coconut and a mild scotch bonnet and lime dressing - a heavier hand with the chillies and lime would have been preferred, but I understand not everyone has my palate (£7.50).

There was a pleasingly drunken but somewhat dry dark chocolate cake slashed with a viscous sauce. But then there was the banana cake which was entirely magnificent - soft and exquisite and boozy and heavy with the fruit. It reminded my of my mum’s Mauritian gateux banane. Find the room (can’t recall the prices - not on the website). It would be nothing but impolite to dine somewhere with a liquor above the door and not sample a tipple or three. On the note of rum, they have a cellar housing over 100 varieties, including some from Mauritius, which pleased me.
I was mixed a heady mug of something with a (I suspect, generous) dash of that night-wiper Wray and Nephew, and Kraken black spiced rum. It’s initial innocuity conceals the rum devil within that, after the first sip, clambers up the spinal cord and gives the brain a smack-around. The name - Rattle Skull Punch - is a does-what-it-says-on-the-tin fit. Just two of those, and something off-menu with a Mauritian rum (at my request), guava, lemon and laced with vanilla had my sleeves rolled up and arms swinging with inebriated satiety as I sing-song'd back to the tube station wearing a pretty warm rum-jacket for an early-April evening.

I arrived when it opened, and the place was heaving by the time we left. Less of a West Indian crowd, but later on that week I did meet someone from Trinidad and Tobago who said The Rum Kitchen is one of his favourite haunts. As is Roti Joupa in Clapham North, incidentally. Late nights downstairs host DJ’s pumping out summer vibes of anything from Latin and reggae to calypso and Afro-funk. I can think of few better ways to spend a sultry summer evening in London then flitting between swigging rum cocktails whilst scoffing fresh-from-the-fryer saltfish fritters out front and jammin’ to Caribbean tunes inside. My dining companion for the evening was Fiona MacLean from London Unattached - check out her account of our great meal.

Liked lots: summer vibes; staff accents; curry; the things with scotch bonnet in; that banana cake
Liked less: chocolate cake was a little dry, but you're not going for that
Good for: strong cocktails; rum nights; reggae jammin'; calypso moves; pretending you're in the West Indies; big groups and DJ's; jerkin' chicken

My rating: 3.5/5
Find the menu on Zomato.

Here's a handy blog entry sign-posting some of the great places to find Bajan food and drink in London and Barbados from the folks at Virgin Atlantic - they've been added to my list.

Note: I was invited to review this restaurant by Virgin Atlantic who funded the meal - many thanks, it was a good one.

Afiyet olsun.
 

la sophia, notting hill - review

I know first hand how difficult it can be indulging in particular cuisines when dining out with someone who does not consume alcohol.

My partner does not drink. Not that unusual, and power to him for getting by all these years without the lubricant so many of us feel we need in social situations. But for no reason other than I think he enjoys being a bit of a diva, he will also not eat anything that contains it.

I can't put wine in the ragu, he's never had tiramisu, we've never 'gone for a drink'. He follows no religion, he has no allergies, there were no issues with alcohol in his upbringing. It's just the decision he made many years ago as a child and not a drop has knowingly ever passed his lips.

I actually have little, if any problem with this. The sheer stubbornness alone has its merits and he has no issues with me drinking (and I'm rather skilled at enjoying a few glasses of wine). The only area that sometimes poses difficulties is dining out; at French, Italian and Spanish restaurants he has to check if a dish contains alcohol and request if it can be made without. Often, it's already included and so he misses out. Indian and Middle Eastern food tend to be the safer bets.

For all of the above reasons, a French restaurant claiming to be the only in London with a fully halal menu is unique enough for me to journey to neighbourhood restaurant La Sophia in Notting Hill to investigate. I asked two friends to join me me; a big-eater Muslim along with a lactose-intolerant vegetarian, just to help up their game.

A stone's throw from Portobello Road, the restaurant opened in the summer of 2010 and presents a Mediterranean and French menu with classics from the latter cooked with no presence of alcohol (think confit de canard and escargots de Bourgogne). Not to mention all the meat is halal (which includes what can be eaten and how it is sacrificed and prepared). Halal snails and foie gras? Who even knew there were such things.

It’s certainly the first time I’ve had a response of, “Would you like the real wine?” when asking for the wine list in a restaurant. They have non-alcoholic options sourced from Kevser Tabak and whilst I struggle with the concept of non-alcoholic wine, I wish I had tried some - they look like they know what they’re about.

Lamb shoulder croquettes with herbs and fat slices of garlic within were soft and appealing, if a touch dry. Sweet cherry tomatoes, buttery lambs lettuce and slashes of garlic aioli contrasting against the slate made for a pretty plate. Slices of grilled aubergine wrapped around golden halloumi sported a flourish of sprightly chilli and tomato salsa and a pecan and parsley pesto. The exact sort of thing you would want with a rough dry white at the tail end of a day under Mediterranean sunshine.
The poached smoked haddock main was very competent. Well cooked fish breaking off into meaty flakes topped by a perfectly poached egg lacquered in Benedict sauce, with a cascading yolk pooling around ratatouille and batons of savoury and deep red beef chorizo. Someone should get this on a brunch menu. The wild mushroom risotto with shaved artichokes and truffle oil had a good consistency and depth of earthy flavour.

Bright yellow miniature pansies brightened the plates of well-presented chocolate fondants with surfaces ready to breech at any sudden movement of the plate. They were decadent and dark, although needed a minute longer in the oven for a greater sponge-to-gooey-middle ratio.

La Sophia is a very capable local restaurant with merits beyond their unique halal-French offering. Our Friday night visit included an acoustic guitarist strumming by the entrance and a full restaurant of around 28 jubilant (if not a tad loud) diners. A la carte might seem a little pricey, but the three courses for £25 set-menu is a good deal. Whether you require a halal menu or not, it’s certainly worth a visit if you’re in the area. If it didn’t take so long for me to get to, this would likely become a regular that the other half would also approve of.

Liked lots: beef chorizo with runny yolk Likes less: nothing was unpleasant Good for: those with halal requirements getting the chance to sample French food; a local regular; trying non-alcoholic wine if that takes your fancy

My rating: 3.5/5

Afiyet olsun.

arancina, notting hill - review

It’s certainly no challenge finding somewhere in London that sells a pizza for under £8. What is a challenge however, is finding a pizza that comes at least somewhere close to the authenticity and unmistakable excellence of pizzas from Italy, and specifically Naples.

I’ve been lucky enough to visit Naples, round about this time last year. I ate my way through the Amalfi coast, sampling lip-puckering lemons as big as melons from Sorrento; sucking on sweet and garlicky clams in my spaghetti vongole by the sea in Positano; drinking an espresso above the clouds at the top of Mount Vesuvius. If it’s a part of the world you haven’t yet ventured to, I strongly recommend paying it a visit for some of the best Italian food you’ll ever get your chops around. The pierce de resistance though, the plate that somehow managed to exceed the other already exceptional dishes from that trip by miles, the food that rendered Matt and I to stare at each other wide eyed in silence at first bite, dazzled and slightly confused by just how good it tasted, was the pizza we had in the city of Naples itself. A shack of an establishment fronted by a perpetual queue at every minute of every trading hour, it had simply two items on the menu – marinara and margherita, of which we ordered the latter. A plate of just four components – thin dough, tomato sauce, mozzarella and a few leaves of basil. But four components so fresh, the sauce so flavoursome with garlic and oregano, the dough so thin and crisp from the treatment it received in the wood fire oven, it was perfection in simplicity at its best. And if you want to see what the most incredible pizza in the world looks like, here it is.

pizza in Naples - other worldly

Once you’ve tasted a pizza from Naples, you will spend the rest of your life desperately trying to seek out the same experience somewhere closer to home. That, or you’ll give in to the calls of the divinely intervened dough, up sticks and move there. I bet people have done it before. Arancina has two establishments in Notting Hill and whilst it doesn’t make Naeopolitan pizzas, it serves up Sicilian pizzas; if there’s going to be anywhere in the region of Italy that has the balls to dare rival the food from Naples, Sicily is probably it. And low and behold, the pizza and the atmosphere in Arancina certainly made a decent stab at providing the next best experience to being there.

On entering, my companion Aarti and I were presented with smiling female staff and a pizza counter housing some ready made slices for those who wish to take away, along with a range of salads. We ascended up the stairs to the main seating area – a small room overlooking the main street with a few rustic wooden tables and two ladies already seated at one of them. Once we made ourselves comfortable, we soon realised the two customers already present along with the waitresses were all speaking Italian. And then another two diners entered, also conversing in Italian. As I’ve said many times before, if you find natives in a restaurant, you know  there’s a good chance it’s going to be good.

If you want to order a pizza authentic to Italy, a margherita or a marinara is the only way to go. Peppers, onions, meats, sweet corn and heaven forbid pineapple (whoever came up with that as a pizza topping should be strung and quartered) are all additions to help satiate the American palette – you certainly won’t find an Italian eating pizza with fruit on. A marinara is a base topped with just a tomato sauce and oregano – no cheese. A margherita is a marinara but with the addition of mozzarella and basil. True to the Italians, Aarti and I ordered the margherita and decided to share it so we could sample some other delights on the menu whilst still keeping within the £8 per head budget. Should you wish to just order the margherita however, you would still have £1 change (£6.95).

For a pre-pizza whetting of the appetites we ordered a portion of arancine – deep fried saffron risotto balls encasing a filling of spinach and ricotta (£2.60). I was expecting a few to be delivered, but it was in fact a single large ball. We cut it in half and happily devoured – the ricotta provided a pleasant acidic tang, the filling well seasoned and the casing crisp and light. The pizza was rectangular (14” x 8”) and presented on a wooden board. The base was wonderfully thin, and the sauce was top draw with lots of garlic and oregano as it should be. There was a little too much cheese for our liking – another trait of an authentic margherita is a small amount of cheese – and it was in fact the bits of dough with no cheese present that were the tastiest, allowing the flavours from the sauce to fully shine. Perhaps a marinara would be the way to go next time. To accompany our pizza, we had a salad of roasted vegetables with chopped lettuce, sliced black olives and tomatoes. It was dressed with a tasty vinaigrette and seasoned with more dried oregano.

The search for the pizza I had in Naples somewhere in London still continues. Perhaps I’ll search forever – it may be it just can't be replicated outside of Italy and of course, the country itself in which it is eaten is a huge part of the experience. But in the meantime, Arancina certainly isn’t a bad place to begin such a search. Grab your Italian phrase-book, pay a visit and pretend you're there.

The bill

Between two:

arancine £2.60

margherita £6.95

roast vegetable salad £5.30

Total £14.85

Alfiyet olsun.