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Friday, 26 July 2013

Grain Store, Granary Square, 1-3 Stable Street, N1C 4AB

Grain Store, Granary Square, 1-3 Stable Street, N1C 4AB
26/07/2013

She said: The ongoing transformation of the King’s Cross area is resulting in the creation of a contemporary-industrial, food and arts hub within the former warehouses and canal-side derelict buildings…Granary Square is now a great open square with balletic fountains, the University of the Arts and a number of urban chic restaurants of which Grain Store is one. The outdoor terrace was very appealing overlooking the life of the square but we decided to eat inside and enjoy the open kitchen and modern yet rustic- interior. Despite walking into an almost empty restaurant we were informed we could only have a seat at the bar; when I scoffed we were offered two seats next to each other at a long, empty communal table. As we hadn’t reserved we accepted so I was miffed when on leaving only a handful of tables were actually being used (what’s that about)? Moving on however, the food was fantastic. I had a beetroot, pickled onion and labneh starter which was light but full of flavour and I ‘tried’ some of his courgette, chick pea and prawn falafel which was extremely moreish. For mains I has the starter special of truffle risotto which was absolutely delicious and very rich so the starter portion worked perfectly as a main. The dessert menu options were equally creative but I was craving chocolate (which was absent) so we settled our bill - £45 including one beer and one juice - and went on our merry, happy way. Will definitely be back ( if seated properly).

He said: it’s pretty amazing what’s going on in Kings Cross. In the blink of an eye all the ‘character’ (ie zombie junkies, limping prostitutes, vomiting suburban clubbers, sketchy baldies clutching brown paper bags, etc.) have all been swept away and replaced with the kind of breezy, fun, and optimistic town planning that is so nice it’s almost Canadian. I know we Londoners have grown only to like things that are a struggle and/or almost good, but go check out this Brave New Corner of our old city; so different that it’s almost its own little mini state, like Christiana, in Copenhagen, minus the drugs. We hit Grain Store after sweating-up an appetite roller-skating to the oldies at the pop-up roller disco nearby(!). Grain Store, like the New Kings Cross, is bright, breezy, urbane and international – I mean, look at what I had to eat: falafels made of broad beans, courgette and prawns, followed by vegetarian merguez in a bun. Wow. This is seriously mixed-up, jabberwocky, post-modern stuff. The falafel was awesome, though the prawn was a little lost and perhaps unnecessary. The veggie merguez was a let down: the ‘sausage’ was too dry and not spicy enough, the bun also too dry, and the relish too sweet. I must have had a duff one, because there’s no way Chef would munch this and keep it on the menu.  I grew up in an area with lots of Moroccans, and gobbled a lot of these in my pre-veggie days. Merguez is like my Madeleine.  It’s unique and one of those foods that definitely deserves UNESCO protection, or whatever. Perhaps a good veggie one is an aberration, like a London where everything works. But I applaud Grain Store for the attempt, and I will try this again.

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Dabbous, 39 Whitfield Street W1T 2SF

Dabbous, 39 Whitfield Street W1T 2SF
23/07/2013

She said: There has been endless buzz around Dabbous and chatter about how hard it is to get a table. Given Dabbous is in our neighbourhood and a weak moment when time was a state of mind, I booked a table for two receiving an availability of three months in the future. So, what sort or restaurant deserves to make its customers wait three months for the privilege of dining there and would its reputation and the wait be justified? For me simply, no. Don’t get me wrong; Dabbous is a lovely, contemporary restaurant on an unassuming corner of Fitzrovia. The 4-course lunch set menu at £28 is a measured price for well fashioned food – the sort that offers small but pretty and creative presentations. First was a couple of layers of raw onions or ‘alliums’ in a chilled pine infusion; second a relatively straightforward but juicy corn on the cob with a salty-sweet butter and herb dressing; third a simple mackerel but with a delicious cucumber and herb accompaniment in a creamy, mayo-like sauce (I didn’t catch the fancy name for this one); and finally, to my disappointment, strawberries and ice cream for dessert – with not a chocolate in sight (fruit – even with ice cream has for me never constituted dessert). At the end of the meal I felt comfortable, content but not blown away. The food almost felt healthy (I suppose a good thing), the service was good, the setting – a cross between Scandinavian and industrial – created a modern yet intimate feel yet I couldn’t help but wonder what makes Dabbous better than so many other lovely places in London which have equally creative food in pleasant settings at fair prices? He noted there were around four empty tables over our 2-hour dining period…If you’re hungry and there’s a table – go; but if you have to wait more than a week I would go elsewhere.

He said: Think way back to history class, when you were 15 or 16, learning about the French Revolution. Remember? Yes, ok. Stop with the guillotine and the cakes for a minute. Right, good songs, but no: Russell Crowe wasn’t there. The whole thing was about rising expectations in the populace, and the ruling elite/government not being able to deliver fast enough. So it is with Dabbous. If you’re told that you have to wait months for a table, say OK, and actually remember the booking three months later and turn up, then you’re going to be  looking for more than if you’d pulled into the Little Chef on the way to Norwich. Unless you’re some baying wannabe, it’s simply never going to be good enough. And that really is the nut of the problem with Dabbous: it’s been murdered by the hype –every wagging tongue, every review adding to its agonizing death by a thousand cuts. The thing is that I actually liked Dabbous, despite being primed to hate it before even walking in, like you do about anywhere popular if you’re a snob like me. It’s a thoughtful place that hits the right balance every step of the way: small corner site but spacious, lots of windows but intimate, pared down design but cosy, big reputation but friendly, sophisticated but laid-back, food inventive but not wanky, etc. It was all really nice, good value, everything tasty, and I would gladly go back. But you can get all this elsewhere in London without having to plan months in advance. I’m thrilled for Dabbous that he’s basking in all this adulation, but this frenzy is all mass delusion. You would think that the Communards are coming and that fine food has been banned.

Friday, 12 July 2013

Vetiver, Chewton Glen Hotel and Spa, New Milton, New Forest, BH25 6QS

Vetiver, Chewton Glen Hotel and Spa, New Milton, New Forest, BH25 6QS
12/07/2013

She said: This was his surprise ‘slap up’ meal for his birthday. After a breathtaking bike ride through the New Forest, then competing with trucks and buses on the A337 for way longer than expected, we pedalled into this Relaix & Chateaux haven, changed into respectable clothes in the ‘powder room’ and ordered some pre-dinner cocktails from the lovely outdoor terrace overlooking the croquet lawn. The service was slow – we had to find our own drinks menus from the bar and the drinks took about 20 minutes to come but were worth the wait (I had the unconventional post-dinner drink of Espresso Martini). We were then shown to our table in a beautiful glasshouse dining room, with views overlooking the estate. Staff had a birthday card ready on the table for him which was a nice touch. I have to say, from beginning to almost the end, Vetiver was wonderful. I opted for the great value £25 three course set menu, kicking off with a heavenly red pepper and gorgonzola risotto perfectly sized for a starter; followed by a delicious fish for main and then a raspberry and white chocolate cake for dessert. As an additional surprise the waiter brought a second ‘birthday cake’ dessert for him which I ‘helped’ with – a delicious chocolate mouse cake, complete with candle. The only slight hitch was when we got the bill and a mysterious £32 had been added in relation to mythical alcohol which took some time to correct but all was well in the end making this a top, classy, lovely choice for the New Forest (just ignore the man in his towelling robe wandering aimlessly up and down the gardens outside).

He said: over the last two million years or so of human evolution a few truism have gradually gained enough axiomatic power to be carved onto stone tablets: for instance, the grass is always greener on the other side, or don’t eat the yellow snow. But in this age of ‘instant everything’ nothing is truer than that old favourite: it’s the journey not the destination. Such it was on this blessed day of my birth 2013. I had no idea where we were going for lunch that day, but getting there was spectacular, involving mountain-biking through miles of stunning English countryside, and avoiding the occasional truck. Eventually we got to Chewton Glen, a country pile turned hotel which, I believe, specializes in rooms in tree-houses. Cool, but we weren’t there for rest or midday hanky-panky, but to replenish the 2000+ calories evaporated on the ride over. I kicked things off with a chilled pea soup, and followed with a quinoa-stuffed tomato which may sound kind of 1972 and lumpy (like me) but was actually delish and absolutely gorgeous on the plate. She and Me have argued lately about whether or not to include photos on this blog. Obviously I’m firmly against, since chances are nil that you will have the same as me, but this really was something to look at: round tomato centred in a gleaming white round plate with a drizzle of vibrant green olive oil, and a scatter of top-of-the-stem basil leaves. Wow, very beautiful. Desert was a white chocolate and raspberry tart; nice. It’s not often that I’m full after lunch in this kind of place, which I was today. So, of course, what arrives next but my surprise birthday chocolate mousse (cf. Sod’s Law), which was excellent but would’ve been even nicer right after I got off my bike. I’m a big fan of country restaurants which, in my experience, try hard to do things right, to motivate everyone to get in their cars and drive miles and miles avoiding countless kamikaze cyclists to get there. Chewton Glen didn’t disappoint me or, evidently, the rest of the very full dining room.