S. Worthen | Weblog

When I first skimmed an email announcement of London's first forthcoming Restaurant Week (8-13 October), I anticipated a version of Toronto's Summerlicious/Winterlicious, a week of appealing, radically discounted menus to entice those with budgets and those willing to sample new restaurants into dabbling for a week.

It's not. Instead, it will be offering an intriguing but much less accessible program of events. £135 for a three course meal at three different top-end restaurants, including transport between courses. £40 or £50 for a roast dinner at trestle tables, the cooking done by big name chefs. The few "special offer" menus I attempted to browse through were all variations on "eat here on a particular night of the week and you can lucky dip for your food to be free". At these prices, the only thing that really appealed was a one-week-only recreation of a long-closed three Michelin star restaurant, La Tante Claire, on top of Selfridge's, with lots of original - now well-established - chefs coming back to cook for it. There, at least, there's going to be some control over how much I spend and what I spend it on; and I trust the value for money more too.

I would have called it something like "Fine Dining Week" so there was more clarity in advertising. Accessible, this is not.

( Rasa N16 )

( Arbutus... )

Bonus tip: On Saturday night, we were a group of five, looking for a quiet place to loiter and have a few drinks. With pubs crowded and most coffee shops closed, a quiet hotel bar proved the perfect option. I'll remember this for future such needs.

Location: 181 Piccadilly, south side, near Piccadilly Circus. London.

Last night, we went to see the musical Oliver. In the number "Who will buy", there was a green-curtained handcart, prominently advertising Fortnum and Mason, complete with color-coded messengers and boxes. It was the only product placement I noticed which didn't come built into the lyrics (i.e. Claridges).

We saw a lot more of that distinctive shade of turqoisey green today when we met taldragon, lazyknight, and daisho for afternoon tea at the St. James Restaurant on the fourth floor of Fortnum and Mason itself. (This wasn't us acting on the advertising; it was a coincidence.) Chair upholstery. China. Walls. More of those iconic boxes. The space was tasteful, large, and sensible: lavish displays of white orchids branching from large vases proved dusty imitations at closer look. The ceiling trim was lovely. Tables were well-spaced so that no other conversations intruded on our own.

Afternoon tea is effecient without being rushed. No grand production was made of service, but with only a little additional prompting, all teas went to the correct person, and refills on tea, scones, and sandwiches were offered when we neared the end of each. Equally, the staff let us loiter for hours into the early evening without dislodging or rushing us. I've read that refills of afternoon tea nibbles are regularly offered at venues around the capital, but this is the first time I've encountered it in such abundance.

The sandwiches were nicely done, fresh, a different, distinctly, lightly flavored bread for each of four finger sandwiches, with tasteful fillings: salmon, ham, egg salad, cucumber. The scones were small and tidy, the chocolate petit four nicely chocolately, and the pastry crisp on the raspberry cup. A minor square of salmon "terrine" and a little cup of warm creamed potatoes were almost an afterthought, tucked around the edges of the sandwiches. The food was superb, technically, and yet - and yet - much as I love afternoon tea, I wish more places did it with greater panache, less classical and more flavor and intelligent innovation. The St. James Restaurant was, however, an excellent example of food and service done Right, the classical way, and much more Right than most.

Location: 22 Bloomsbury Street, near the British Museum and not too far from Tottenham Court Road. London

It may have been our most efficient trip ever to central London. We went in to have dinner with hungry_pixel, and a lovely dinner it was. Tas, a small Turkish chain with an outlet in Bloomsbury, close to the British Museum, was well-lit, casually elegant, and very effecient. A little over an hour later, she was off to catch her train and we were heading home as well.

I started with a vibrant salad, Findikli Nareksili, lettuce with plenty of toasted hazelnuts and pomegranate seeds, with a piquant dressing. hungry_pixel's green salad was appealingly dressed, enlivened too by mint. The Hunkar Begendi was a delight, roast, puréed eggplant and cashar cheese, surrounding cubes of lamb and raw, shredded vegetables. The gentle richness of the purée was sublimely good. C. polished off his falafal and mixed grill, so he must have liked those too.

The portions were substantial enough that curiousity more than hungry drove our interest in dessert; as a result, we ordered one to share between all of us. Kaymakli Kestane wasn't at all what we thought "candied chestnut topped with pistachio and fresh cream" was going to be, and all the better for it. Candied chesnut cream was marbled with thick dairy cream in a thin layer across the expanse of the plate, and topped in the middle with crushed pistachios, ideal for sharing.

Tas has a nicely varied menu, efficient service, and a good location. They had quince juice available (!), sort of like store-bought apple juice suffused with celery and floral notes. The bread, with which we began, was pretty good. The only real downside was an inadequate supply of toilets. (They have one for each gender in a relatively large restaurant.) I'd be happy to go back: there's plenty left on the menu that I'm curious about, and equally, I'd really love to have roasted, puréed eggplant with cheese again.

Rootmaster
Location: Ely's Yard, west of Brick Lane, southwest of the brewery. E1 6QL

( Dinner on a bus! )

Mien Tay
Location: 122 Kingsland Road, Shoreditch. London.

( Inexpensive Vietnamese... )

Tamarind
Location: 20 Queen Street, Mayfair, London. About five minutes' walk north-west of Green Park station.

( High-end Indian... )

Location: The Grove, in the docks area, Bristol.

riverstation is spacious and light, industrial and civilized. What is now a bar and restaurant was formerly the dockside police station, a comfortable restaurant well-patronized by suited businessmen, standing up, shaking hands, smiling at each other. I met intertext at the train station on Friday and we walked over - 10-15 minutes - with our luggage. Happily, they could keep the luggage in a closet for us while we went to claim our river-views table, booked with a well-designed online interface.

Impressively, the set meal prices have come down since last year's guidebook prices were printed. Two courses for £9.50, three courses for £12.00! My gazpacho was refreshing, and full of vegetable goodness. The mackerel was tender, with more potatoes than we needed, and greens. (I've already forgotten if it came with any sauce or compôte.) The passionfruit crême brûlée was a delight, ethereal in its lightness. Once I'd asked if there was anything interesting to drink other than wine, we received the other drinks menu - entertaining cocktails, and a decent selection of juices and interesting other non-alcoholic drinks. I went with a strawberry bellini.

The price was right, the food generally enjoyable (though forgettable around the edges), the drinks good, and the light-filled space beautiful, but the toilets might as well have been candlelit, they were so dark. Still, I had a lovely, relaxing lunch there in good company with generally good, if busy, service. I'd be willing to go back, but I'm much more interested in exploring more of Bristol's many other scattered restaurants instead.

This last week has been a whirl of out-of-town visitors. DD from Toronto, my third-grade teacher, meeting gylfinir and spending a delightful evening in her company over Japanese food, easterbunny and aca, and Derrick, down from York. And that's without counting a missed visit from austengirl. (I'm happy to say it's also been a productive week for tying off the semester's loose ends and starting work on my forthcoming conference paper.)

The Modern Pantry
Location: 47-48 St. John's Square, Clerkenwell, a block-or-so north of Farringdon. London.

( The Modern Pantry... )

Alas, the pub reunion at the Lyric afterwards was more frustration than satisfaction: all these wonderful, wonderful people I rarely see, and too much noise to hear what they were saying!

Asadal
Location: 227 High Holborn, London, immediately outside Holborn station. London.

( Asadal... )

And so, Derrick is off to Clarion West, we're off to sofa shopping (we may someday buy one), and Taste of London is this weekend!

Location: Popham Services on the A303, Hampshire. England.

The first time I tuned in to Little Chef's existence as anything other than fast food background noise, it was when I read a blurb in Restaurant magazine: the chain was insolvent and had gone into administration. Many of its branches were sold off over the course of the next several issues of the magazine. By early this year, though, there was better news: Heston Blumenthal had been brought in as a consultant to help revamp the menu and the chain's presentation.

I've been curious about the chain ever since. A full English breakfast this morning killed our appetite for well-rated Hampshire pubs, so instead, spotting the first Little Chef we'd seen since we'd started looking out for them weeks ago, we went there to try out a few dishes.

I hadn't realized that it had always been a sit-down fast food place. The tables were full, but there was plenty of space at the bar. The restaurant had the look of a place that's been made over: chalked-up specials on blackboards affixed to tile counters; silverware wrapped in black paper napkins; two swanky wine-maintaining/dispensing/cooling devices which could hold four bottles each. The staff were labeled with their jobs on the back of their black or red outfits, followed by a quotation about food from everyone from A.E. Milne to Sophia Loren. The bill arrived with a little packet of Jelly Bellies each.

I ordered the pork belly special, meltingly tender and tasty, served on a serviceable greens-and-tomato salad. C. had the macaroni and cheese, the competent equal of a microwavable ready-meal one from M&S or Sainsbury's. It too came with salad, a sensible and regularly used choice throughout a menu which included a sizable array of promising-sounded desserts. After our mains, we were full - not because they were too large - they weren't - but because we were still coasting on that full English from a few hours earlier.

Not until just now, however, did I realize that the only branch made over by Blumenthal was the one we went to (Very lucky, under the circumstances!) - and that this week's latest "drama" is the chain's intended roll-out of the menu to the rest of the chain - without the consultant's knowledge. At least drama helps keep it in the news and ups the odds of its survival. Whether it was worth surviving before the makeover, I can't say. As it stands, I wouldn't mind going back.

Location: Facing the canal on the east end of Campo San Giacomo dell'Orio. Santa Croce 1459. Venice. Italy.

In Venice, one very rarely is given bread to eat at dinner on a Sunday. On Sunday, the bakeries are closed, and Venetian bread is a special flower, a delicate bread that will be stale before the day is over. It won't last until Sunday, when, at restaurants, grissini, long, thin crunch crackers, tend to be served instead. Il réfolo began to impress me from the moment the bread arrived: it was Sunday, and the bread was soft, fresh, not stale at all. It's not hard to make other kind of bread, but regionalism is such that very, very few places bother.

Thanks to my parents' good advice, we'd reserved our table a few hours in advance. This meant we were seated at a prime table in the center of the large outdoor umbrella-covered patio, well away from the splatter of a fitful thunderstorm which would blow through later in the evening. Off to a good start with the bread and a sensibly short menu, we settled down for excellent food and a delightful evening, primi, secondi, and desserts.*

The pasta dish was, I'm fairly sure, one of the best I've ever eaten. Tender penne were cooked with a smoked ham and ricotta sauce, topped with more thickly-grated parmesan than usual, light-handed, moderately rich, completely wonderful. C.'s papardelle was excellent too. My tender little cuts of beef (scamone) were delicate, buttery, soft, and served with a nicely-dressed salad. J.'s tuna hamburger tasted well, but the dense texture undermined the lightness of flavor; it was served with a good homemade ketchup which overpowered it. C.'s lamb chops were properly done and tasty, but my dish was better.

Dessert was good and competent, if not quite as inspiring as my first two courses: a vanilla-scented panna cotta served with a choice of sauces, strawberry in my case. We moved on to a smooth grappa as we loitered into the later hours of the evening, with good company, good service, and good food.

* In theory, a well-rounded Italian meal should have an optional starter; a pasta/risotto/soup course (the first course, or primo); a second course (secondo) of meat or fish, often with or followed by vegetable sides; then dessert; before possibly coffees and after-dinner drinks. A good Italian restaurant will size the courses so it's comfortable feasible to have all of them. In practice, order what you have appetite for.

Location: 1723 N. Halsted, Near North Side, Chicago.

I've been interested in this restaurant since before it opens, which shows the power of community-based advertising. Grant Aschatz, whose restaurant Alinea is, charted the process of opening the restaurant on eGullet, beginning long before it opened its doors. And so, for the past two years or so, I knew that whenever I next made it back to Chicago, I would try to go. I did.

Short version:
Alinea has a minimalist, tasteful, slightly warehousey feel. It offers one of my very favorite ways of eating: large numbers of thought-provoking small bites of high quality. Some delighted, some intrigued, and I'm glad I had all twenty-two dishes of that evening's adventure in food. Highlights included the Hot Potato, Cold Potato soup; the powered A-1 sauce; and the Thyme-Balsamic-Cherry soda.

( The very long and thorough version... )