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.
 

dishoom, covent garden - review

The main encounters I have with Indian food involve the always excellent, authentic and homemade doggy bags Indian friends bring me; leftovers from what seem to be almost weekly occurrences of some sort of event revolving around the eventual climax of a wedding – engagement parties; pre-engagement parties, pre-wedding parties, a pre-party party (these guys know how to have a good time). Or, dining out at a good local curry house – I tend to gravitate to those catered for the Eastern palette rather than customised for the West. A good example of these are Saravana Bhavan or Lahori Karahi (the latter more Pakistani cuisine than Indian). If you find natives in a curry house, you know there’s a decent chance of it being both good and authentic as is the case with both of these.
 
What I haven’t really experienced is making a specific trip to a ‘proper’ Indian restaurant as opposed to a curry house. I see the differences being that the former would be a larger establishment well kitted out, centrally located rather than local, innovative dishes alongside traditional, enticing interiors, and with most if not all of their business coming from meals dined on the premises rather than take-away. Dishoom in Covent Garden certainly ticks these boxes, but it was hard to dismiss an almost glaring observation on this visit – amongst the packed out tables and ever increasing queue outdoors, it was a challenge to spot a single person of Indian heritage.

If I had stepped into a venue that hadn’t already bowled me over with some wonderful aromatics as soon as I had entered and descended down the steps into the basement bar, this observation would have set alarm bells ringing. But this place achieved just that, and along with some questionable over-Americanised but well intended greetings from a person not in waiting uniform and a cocktail quickly in my hand, I was more than ready to see if what came out of the kitchen matched the jaunty and vibrant vibes from the front of house.

My companions and I ordered what seemed to be almost every third dish from the menu – each entry read as something I wanted to consume and it was challenge to apply a filter to prevent a cry of ‘we’ll take one of everything’. But realistic we remained, and within mere minutes of ordering our table surface area soon dwindled as plate after plate was delivered.

The ‘small plates’ or starter proportions were generous, with a cereal bowl sized vessel presented to us, and actually with a component of cereal in it. It was the bhel - a sort of upmarket Bombay mix with the addition of puffed rice (just like Rice Krispies but without the sugar), seasoned with lime and mint, speckled with jewels of sweet pomegranate kernals, and a hell of a lot of ginger - never a bad thing. It was crunchy, spicy and very flavoursome. The bowl of skate cheeks (the cheeks of skate – who knew fish even had cheeks) were battered and looked like appetising chicken nuggets but with a better colour. They were accompanied by a fruity date and tamarind chutney which helped lubricate what were otherwise slightly dry bites. Okra fries were a great take on busying the fingers with the familiar form of chips but green, spiced and salty.

okra fries, bhel and skate cheeks

okra fries

From the grills we chose two meats and a vegetarian option. The paneer tikka while spiced did not lose its delicate flavour which I felt was quite impressive. It was the texture that was more so though - one that gave way to more of a crumble under pressure than previous experiences I’ve had with the cheese, quite delightful. The murgh malai consisted of chicken thigh meat seasoned with garlic, ginger and coriander – while tender and moist, the depth of spice and flavour did not quite lend itself to the expectations from the overnight marinade it had received. The lamb boti kebab however was outstanding – furry with the fibre of ginger, tender and moist, seasoned with impact from a whole host of spices – completely delicious and I could have done with a portion to myself.

paneer tikka

lamb boti kebab

murgh malai

To provide a purpose for our naans and kimono-silk thin roomali roti, a thick and creamy bowl of the house black daal was ordered – while relatively mild in its inclusion of spice, the texture was completely gorgeous and one of my favourite things on the table (after the lamb) for this reason. It reminded me a lot of refried beans and with a squeeze of lime and fresh coriander it could have been Mexican – a bigger stamp from Indian spices would have helped differentiate it more. But this did not detract at all from the pleasure it yielded. The portion of raita to help cool the table off was of generous soup proportions and my personal preference would have liked it a little more strained.

roomali roti and garlic naan

house black daal

Dishoom sells itself as a fond memory to the fast dwindling and traditional cafés of Bombay. While it’s hard for me to tell if the dishes that come out of its kitchen are true to these roots (I’ve never been to Bombay, let alone a Bombay cafe), I don’t think it really matters. Perhaps this is the reason I found too few natives within, but while the food is delicious and the staff are friendly, the restaurant will continue to be busy and I think rightly so. Don’t discount your local curry house now that Dishoom is here as there is no need to – what they provide are two quite different range of products and experiences.

It’s not possible to secure a table for less than six for dinner, but you can for breakfast and lunch reservations. I was quite eager to top the night off with some of their warm and spiced house chai, but caffeine after 3pm for me these days will render a sleepless night. All the more reason to return and perhaps try out a different time of day – I can think of few things more appealing than starting off a weekend with a buttered bun maska or two dipped into spicy hot chai. Already there.

Alfiyet olsun.

roti joupa caribbean - review

  

'When de drink de rum, when de girl drink de rum
Dey only want roti, mix it up with some curry' 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGMpr-quR7Q

Trinidadians love their curry and roti, it turns out. They even sing songs about it, which I highly approve of. Catchy ones too; I challenge you to listen to that and not move. Tonight, I was certainly drinking. Not rum, although it could have turned out that way if I had stayed out longer than I did. Mine's a vodka lime and soda if we're on the spirits. It was a good friends last day at work - he is moving to the country to start a new chapter in his life. It was his leaving drinks, and my stomach needed some lining.

While colleagues had noticed and even sampled the Caribbean Roti Joupa in Clapham North before, it only caught my attention when I saw it featured on Paul Hollywood's Bread series which is currently being aired. He paid Roti Joupa a visit to take a look at how they made a certain type of roti there called Bus-Up-Shut (here's a recipe for it I've found online if you're interested in having a go). There was a lot of technique involved of which Paul attempted and spectacularly failed at, followed by vigorous hitting with long sticks so the bread became crumpled and slightly shredded - hence the name sounding like 'bust up shirt'. This place is around a 10 minute walk from where I work and so was a perfect option for a, cheap, speedy and quality meal for the evening - roti and curry was exactly what I fancied.

Roti Joupa is mostly a take-away establishment but does have a few bar seats inside if you would rather eat before moving on, two of which Matt and I managed to secure. Wanting to see what we could get for £8 each (for the purposes of the blog), we probably over ordered and were presented with a huge amount of food. I ordered a portion of goat curry, bus-up-shot (roti), and a macaroni pie (baked macaroni). Matt ordered a chicken curry roti, poulourie (little balls of split pea flour fried and served in a thin sweet chutney sauce, usually mango or tamarind) and a hot double (fried bread filled with curried chickpeas - like a hot chickpea sandwich). We of course tried each others food for future reference.

chicken curry roti

hot double

pholouri

macaroni pie

bus-up-shut

The goat curry was my favourite - succulent chunky pieces of moist meat wonderfully spiced and eaten with the thick but light and soft bus-up-shot roti. A very pleasing combination. The chicken curry roti had generous amounts of meat and while it had a good flavour, I had definitely come out top with the goat as it wasn't quite on a par with it. The polourie balls would be quite dry and dense on their own but worked very well with the sweet sauce they were presented with. I expected the hot double to be in the form of two rounds of fried bread with the channa sandwiched in between, but the chickpeas seemed to be wrapped up in roti instead - I didn't mind as the bread here is excellent. The macaroni pie was a welcome mediation away from everything else and I happily dipped a fork in and out between mouthfuls of curry. We packed parts of what we couldn't finish tightly back into their foil wrapping, asked for a carrier bag and marched on back to the pub laden with doggy bags to consume when we would eventually get home.

This is a great choice in place of a filth-burger from the chicken shop when the stomach starts to rumble, and for the following reasons: it's truly authentically Caribbean and full of native regulars taking home good food reminding them of sunshine; while there's quite a bit of frying involved, the ingredients are of quality; the roti is truly excellent (if Paul Hollywood visited, you know it must be good); you can get serious bang for your buck; ; they play soca music while you wait. I'm going tomorrow at lunch time before another evening of drinks - I'm already looking forward to it.

Liked lots - bus-up-shut; goat curry; soca music playing; smiling staff
Liked less - lack of seats; homeless person sometimes staring at people eating through the glass
Good for - quick bite to eat; lining the stomach; sampling traditional Trinidadian cuisine

The bill

Me 

goat curry £5.00

macaroni pie £1.50

bus-up-shut £1.50

Total £8.00

Matt
curry chicken roti £5.00

hot double £1.50

poulouri £1.50

Total £8.00

Alfiyet olsun.