The Bonneville: Clapton on the move

Before we go any further, lets get the toilets out of the way. If you've never been to the London Dungeon, and lord knows why you would unless you have visited as a hapless tourist, you need no longer even consider it. Put that £17.50 back in your pocket; The Bonneville has it covered.

Some might call it naff, it probably is, but I liked it.  Descend the stairs and the dry ice gets to work: "smoke"; a cobbled street; all very spooky. Its like you've been on the Delorean with Doc Brown, transported from hipster heaven to Queen Vic's London, you could imagine Jack the Ripper walking past, dipping his cap, on the way to his latest misadventure. It all makes for quite a dramatic place to take a pee.

But back to upstairs: here things are much more Clapton 2014. Walls are stripped, men are mustached, braces are abundant. Despite this it feels cosy, a place you want to be. There is a lever espresso machine in the corner (a La Pavoni I would proffer), resplendent in brass. Beers are served by the 2/3 pint, a good selection of local craft, a pisco sour was lost in the making, just too sweet.

 

While the Bonneville may be very Clapton 2014, the menu is from a hidden brasserie in the Bastille. Resolutely Gallic. There are snails, but they lack the necessary punch. Where is the butter, let alone the garlic - they should be drowning. Here they feel like they've been on one of Channel 4's fat camps; transformed into a health food.

The tartiflette is much better, but still lacked a certain oomph.

We get to the cassoulet and at last the Bonnville starts singing.  The beans have done their job, rich and creamy, excellent sausage and bacon. This is what many look for but can often no longer find in Paris' never-ending brasseries; honest, rich, hearty, French cooking. The green salad is spiked with tart French dressing; a perfect bedfellow for the rich cassoulet.

There is also steak and frites: its fine, but hardly a destination dish.

There is no doubt you can eat better French food in London at a similar price.  But the Bonneville has something: it makes you want to snuggle up for the night. Outside is a place you don't need to confront for a while.  For you are safe in the arms of the Bonneville, another glass of red wine? Oh, okay, why not. Outside can wait a little longer.

The Green Man and French Horn: offaly good..

Cosy. On a cold November's eve, the wind blustering, the Christmas lights shining (why oh why so early?), we needed a restaurant to warm our cockles, to provide comfort from the Outside. So it was to France we turned, specifically the Loire - stepping inside The Green Man and French Horn, you leave the Outside well and truly behind. A warm welcome, soft lighting and a hallway of a restaurant that somehow makes you feel that it's not just that, we were set up for a night of jollity.

Now I had high hopes for Mr Green and his horn, he is backed by the kind of people who know how to run a restaurant. People who have done this before, well. Take Terroirs, a split level restaurant just by Charing Cross serving two different menus, everything excellent. Brawn, another of theirs, may have run out of their namesake last time I was there, but my oh my did the rest of the menu make up for it. Needless to say I hardly came to this most strangely named of former pubs without expectations.

And I am glad to report that there is no need to draft in Mr Blonde, Mr Blue, Mr Brown or any of the others just yet, Mr Green is doing just fine. A raft of small plates were on offer: London's favourite, rilletes; Jerusalem artichokes, that oh so windy of veg; leeks with brown shrimps. You could make a meal out of these and leave very, very happy.

We decided to get a few to share: "Fresh cheese" was an undressed burrata, resplendent in its nudity; duck egg and salty anchovy soldiers, umami heavy, was a combo to be repeated at home; Game terrine, rich with the weight of venison; sweet and soft Rillon (pork belly), with bitter endive leaves and the punch of mustard. 

"Fresh cheese"

Duck egg with anchovy soldiers

Game terrine

Rillon and endive

Of course, being in "France", we had to indulge in some snails - tender little morsels with a subtle parsley and garlic sauce, interspersed with the crunch of croutons and fried hedgehog mushrooms, a real highlight.

The snails

So onto the main course we marched and I did my usual thing. If there's offal, I'll have it - I just can't help myself. At least this time I knew what I was getting into, despite the kindly look of concern from our waitress. Andouillette - a French sausage like no other. I first had it in Edinburgh when out with a group of mates following one too many pints of IPA (Deuchars, of course), it was described to us as a sausage made with belly. We assumed, belly pork, the meat. No, no, no, you need to go a little deeper than that - it is essentially chitterlings (small pig's intestines), mixed with tripe and wine, encased in more offal.  It is pungent stuff, but once you get over the wiff, it is something to be treasured. And none more so that at the Horny Green Man's place, it may not be from the Loire, but they have it nailed down. Splendid.

Andouillette with mash and mustard sauce

Others went for mussels and clams (both tasty, but a little measly), a rather pricey piece of sea bass (£23 for a smallish portion), and the skate  - pan fried, the whole wing was served. All eminently serviceable, but not up to the same highs as the starters.

On to something sweet - others had the poached pear and salted caramel sauce, "winemaker's tart", and the rice pudding. All great, but the pudding was the star; it enveloped you, a great big bear hug of a dessert. As usual, I had the cheese - limited choice, but what we had was great.

By this point we had worked our way through a little of their rather splendid wine list (which focuses on small scale French producers), and had warmed up sufficiently to contemplate the Outside. Sad as we were, it was time to venture back out into the bluster, leaving behind only memories of a thoroughly enjoyable evening. 

Club Gascon: A Job Well Done

I grew up in Edinburgh. As far as I am aware there were no Michelin Starred restaurants. Whether that was because the frozen north was just a trip too far for the wine-swilling Michelin controllers, or whether it was because there was no food scene to speak of, I will never know (I suspect the latter though). Now there are 6. Still exclusive nonetheless.  I have not been to any. In London there are over 60. Suddenly one star places almost become everyday, normal. The Great Recession has driven this trend on - whereas before a Starred restaurant would never have dreamt of offering a fixed price menu under 30 quid, now it is the norm (in fact Arbutus goes even further at under 20). Michelin star food has become accessible (albeit at the expense of some of the glam).

But while London as a whole has 60, the richest square mile in Europe has only two - Gary Rhodes at Tower 42 (the less said about that the better) and Club Gascon - perched on the edge of that temple to all things meat, Smithfields.  So with Friday upon us and lunch on the cards we decided to try out some classical French cooking at Club Gascon.

The place is France embodied. French staff, French techniques, even French rabbit - I am not sure how Jean-Paul the rabbit tops Peter but we'll leave that aside for now.

I started with the black pudding which came atop a disc of light pastry with pickled mushrooms and "artichoke crush". The pudding was well-cooked, the mushrooms, lightly pickled, cut through the richness. The artichokes were, unless I am very much mistaken, of the Jerusalem variety, a favourite of mine, but not to everyone's taste - I think this should have been disclosed on the menu!

Next up, rabbit with fennel salad and confit chorizo. The rabbit was juicy, expertly cooked! The two sauces- aniseed from the fennel and squid ink mingled well and the char-grilled fennel was delicious! The confit chorizo was but an afterthought!

Others had the onglet (that cut so in vogue in London right now). Now I love my meat rare - I think its a waste to cook quality meat anywhere more than medium- that said I appreciate that others do not. And I do not think it is a restaurant's place to tell a customer that they are wrong. So when one of my fellow diners was a little uncomfortable with medium-rare, I would have thought a place as esteemed as Club Gascon would have curbed its instincts and veered towards the medium- what came out was rare indeed. A touch of Gallic arrogance creeping through perhaps?

To finish I had the Ossou Iraty (a sheeps' milk cheese from South West France) which came with delicious nut and caramel crusted grapes, thin slices of toast and Verjuice (a juice made from pressing unripe grapes). A good cheese board. The black olive and chocolate desert seemed reasonably well received, as did the Plum Posset.  We finished with some delicious homemade chocolates.

So what to make of Club Gascon. French food, bags of technique, in the City, at reasonable prices. You can't really ask for much more than that, a thoroughly enjoyable lunch!

L'Autre Pied: Food as Art (but unfortunatley not as food)

Food as art.  Art as food,  G-Star recently called this into question.  Had we strayed too far from what a plate of food was meant to be?  Number one, provide sustenance.  Secondly, taste good.  One and two together should bring happiness.  A belly full of tasty food is a wonderful thing.  Only then should we take into consideration how it looked.  I agreed to a point - two dishes, same ingredients and method deployed - one can taste better if it presented in a more appetising way.  But I can see where he is coming from.  First and foremost when I leave a restaurant I want to have enjoyed the taste of the food I have just eaten.  Only then will I revel in the beauty of its presentation and the chefs techniques.

So it is a great shame when an incredibly talented chef focuses too heavily on technique and presentation and forgets to make it taste good.  Andy Macfadden, it seems, has fallen into that trap.  The food at L'Autre Pied is packed full of technique.  His skill is obvious in every dish.  In the main it also looks beautiful.  Each plate a piece of art.  But did I leave with that warm glow you get from eating wonderful food? Sadly not.

Again I was out with work so the meal was gratis and we didn't have access to the full menu - a pared down two choice offering  instead (although I should at this point commend the restaurant for being incredibly accommodating to those whose choice was restricted).

We shared some amouse bouche - goats curd, okay, the highlight a hare samosa.  A real treat.  The accompanying bread was fantastic - in particular the onion brioche.

We were then given an extra course of what appeared to be a pesto mousse with toasted pine-nuts (no dish was explained - a great shame).  This was fine, it did not get me excited though.

I went for the artichoke - fried to a crisp, it came with parsley oil and blobs of a hazelnut.  The oil was bitter, the hazelnut reminded me of Nutella - it didn't do anything for me. Others had the crab garganelli (kind of like penne) - the pasta was just too thick, the crab got lost, the belper knolle cheese was barely evident.  All in all not that impressive.

Next up was cocoa coated venison, beetroot and smoked goats curd.  The venison was perfect.  Soft, moist, moreish.  The beetroot and the sweet onions worked well but the goats curd was a strange addition.  It also needed something more.  Some dauphinoise potatoes perhaps? Something to offset the sweet and sour combination of cocoa and onions.  Unfortunately it left me wanting.

To end I had the yuzu and mandarin parfait, poppy seeds and yoghurt sorbet.  A dish of techniques - beautifully presented. The parfait was a little sour for my liking, the poppy crisps the highlight of the meal.  But it didn't really all come together.  You can see what is being attempted.  There is sweet and sour, crispy and smooth, even a jelly - tastes and textures contrasting everywhere.  And it looked beautiful.  But it didn't make me happy.

So what to make of L'Autre Pied?  Here is a restaurant blessed with an exceptionally talented chef.  There is no doubt Andy Macfadden can cook.  A mountain of effort has been put into each dish.  No one can say the cooking is lazy.  But that breeds problems.  I think that the kitchen is trying so hard to let everyone out front know that they are top of their game, that they have forgotten what it is their are meant to be doing - cooking food that leaves you full and happy.  Sadly L'Autre Pied, despite the obvious talent, falls at the first hurdle.

L'Eau a la Bouche

Just a quick post on L'Eau a la Bouche, a great little French cafe near me on Broadway Market! This place is constantly busy - not only on Saturdays when the crowds throng to Broadway market, but also at nine on a Tuesday morning.  To say this place is popular is an understatement.

I regularly buy cheese and fresh bread from here and it has always been delicious!  However one lunchtime on a Saturday I thought I would brave the crowds to see if I might squeeze in for some sit-down food.  To my surprise sucess. 

We shared a croque monsieur and a cheese and ham croissant.  The croque monsieur was creamy and delicious, coffee good, croissant fresh.  All in all a very delicious breakfast.

La Vie en Rose: just not up to scratch!

Living near Broadway market I have always had my eye on La Vie en Rose, the quaint French restaurant situated on the corner of Broadway market at the Regent Canal end.  The menu always looks interesting and it is normally packed.  And so with most of the restaurants near me closed between Christmas and New Year, I decided to give it a shot.

The decor is that of a small Parisian cafe/neighbourhood restaurant.  The staff were very welcoming- indeed they were probably the highlight of the evening

We had the charcuterie to share for starters.  Unfortunately, given the quality of French cured meats and saucisson on offer on Broadway Market on a Saturday, the charcuterie was a selection of pre-sliced meats including Parma ham (hardly French!) - if I had to guess I would think it came straight out of a supermarket packet.  This was served with pickled apple, which was overpowered with cinnamon.

For main I went for the pork fillet with potato and turnip gratin.  This could have been good, the combination should have worked, but unfortunately it was not.  The flavours were okay but the pork was dry, the gratin sloppy. 

LJC had the pheasant breast with wild mushrooms.  As will be evident from the picture below, the pheasant had been severely overcooked.  Burnt on one side, dry throughout.  Again the flavours in this dish were okay, but when it came to the pheasant, the cooking went clearly awry.

The menu at La Vie en Rose is always intelligently formed, the ingredients are interesting and well-matched. The place is also more often than not very busy.  Both of which leads me to suspect that, given it was just after Christmas when I visited, the usual chef must not have been cooking.  However, given how far from the mark the food was, this is no excuse.

Update: La Vie en Rose closed in January 2012.

The (ever so slightly) Crooked Well

Riots may well be now spreading accross London affecting both my area (near London Fields) and the Fashionista's "hood", Camberwell, however before this mayhem ensued, I managed to fit in a quick visit to a new restaurant down in Camberwell which has been receiving some pretty good reviews, the Crooked Well.

Camberwell, despite its chequered past, has got some great little eateries (my favourite Xinjang(ese) restaurant, Silk Road, and great tapas at Angels and Gypsies- second only in London, in my view, to Brindisa) so given the upward trend I was quite excited to try this new offering. 

Of course we hadn't booked a table but thought we would try our luck in any case.  The maitre de greeted us warmly but said that unfortunately there would be no tables available until 9:30 (it was 8) so we had a look around and then wandered away disappointed only to find out that Angels and Gypsies was also full for the evening (a pretty regular occurrence).  And so we decided to return in the hope that someone would chow down their food faster than expected and allow us to swoop on their table.

We sat at the bar, had a drink and shared some tasty olives.  We were just about to order another drink and continue waiting when we noticed a table free in the "bar" area (the maitre de had definitely not been keeping his eyes open) and asked the wonderfully cheerful French barman if we would be "allowed" to eat the restaurant food in the bar area- "why of course" came the reply.

So off we went to sit down and the barman came across with menus etc (the maitre de was still resolutely failing to notice the fact that a table had become empty and we were now sitting down, although, in fairness, he did apologise later).  The starters looked interesting and we decided to go for pork belly served with crackling, watercress, capers and a tuna creme fraiche.  I am all for a bit of surf and turf but have never come across the idea of tuna and pork so was happy to give it a go.  Unfortunately it was a little bit of a let down- the belly was dry (I am not sure how this is possible with a cut like belly), the crackling tasted of old oil and the tune creme fraiche was simply nothing other than average.  A disappointing start...

Pork belly, crackling, watercress, capers and a tuna creme fraiche.

On to the mains and, to my surprise and delight, the Fashionista had agreed to go for the two person rabbit and bacon pie (pies are not normally her kind of thing!). The pie came on its own so we decided to get a plate of mixed greens on the side.

Two minutes before the pie arrived I turned to the Fashionista and said- the pie's ready- the smell wafting down from the upstairs kitchen was unmistakable.  Sure enough shortly after the pie arrived along with a plate of kale (so much for the mixed greens).  The pie was absolutely delicious- fluffy puff pastry with juicy shredded rabbit and big chunks of bacon underneath- a great pie which would probably have done for at least three if not four people (suffice to say, the two of us saw it off!).

Bacon and rabbit pie (for two).

Given the size of the pie, there was just not enough space for us to fit anything else.  The bill, for the two of us with a (very average) bottle of wine, was over £60- a reasonable price for two for a shared starter, main course and wine if they were all up to scratch.  Unfortunately, though, the starter was a real let down and, while the pie was fantastic, for £60 in London you can get so much more for your money.  If you are in Camberwell I would suggest that you try Angels and Gypsies and give this place a miss- its just not worth it when you have such great options, which deliver consistently on every level, so close by!