Dinner is served

SW London goes global

The latest in my series of SW London restuarant mini-reviews for the lovely people at Heaver Magazine - took the ol' hood global with a whistle-stop culinery tour through Korean, Italian, Japanese, French and Argentinian (Entrée (French), Bistro Delicat (Austrian), Lola Roja (Spanish) and Doukan (Moroccan) are other notiable entries that missed out on the global stage as they'd already been reviewed).

Manson (SW6)

The owners of secret-gem gastropub The Sands End have upped their game to a fully-fledge restaurant in Manson, bringing in ex-Ramsay protégé chef Gemma Tuley to give a very un-pubby gastro French flair to their brassiere-style offering. Knowledgeable young things explain the menu peppered with ‘my favourite’ and appetite-whetting descriptions of the more inventive twists on classics sitting t alongside the untwist-ables such as oysters, terrine and lobster thermidor with truffle mash (don’t leave until you’ve tried it). But it’s the sharp presentation and interesting execution which lifts Manson head and shoulders above your average local restaurant and that will make it a classic.

Manson

676 Fulham Road

Parsons Green

SW6 5FA

020 7384 9559

http://www.balthazarrestaurant.co.uk/

Red Monkey Lounge (SW11)

Past the burly Friday-night bouncer and through the dimly-lit, packed bar isn’t where you expect to find fine sushi but find you shall, with an Asian-infused cocktail in hand. The menu is tapas-style and with a kitchen headed up by ex-Sake No Hana chef Pawal Wiktorek, these are no average bar snacks. Platters (kushiyaki, katsu or tempura) offer an easy introduction, with the grilled ‘kushiyaki’ selection including buttery belly pork, marinated just-done beef and a multitude of marinated veg. Sushi is super-fresh, while tuna katsu and spice ika (deep-fried strips of squid) are battered with the lightest of hands. Plus with three karaoke ‘pods’ downstairs, you can even sing for your supper.

Just a couple of tempting snaps (it was very dark and I, um, kept on diving in before I snapped... well I did say they were tempting - spider maki and the lightest tuna katsu)

Red Monkey Lounge
50-52 Battersea Rise
SW11 1EG
020 7924 6288
http://www.redmonkeylounge.co.uk/

Franco Manca (SW9)

All the accolades heaped upon Brixton pizzeria Franco Manca don’t weigh heavy on their produce – the sourdough bases are feather-light, while meticulously-sourced toppings are more-ishly minimal. With only six pizzas and two wines to choose from on the menu, it won’t be long until your choice is out of the wood-fired ovens specially imported from Naples and in front of you. Only open when the market is (which roughly equates to Monday to Saturday lunchtimes) the queue is almost as famous as the food, but if you’re not one for queuing (or lunchtimes) the recently opened Chiswick addition is an authentic export with an added reservations line.

Franco Manca

4 Market Row

Electric Lane

Brixton

SW9 8DL

020 7738 3021

http://www.francomanca.co.uk/

Santa Maria del Sur (SW8) - you know how much I love this one!

Argentina is generally known for two things: Evita and steak. Focusing on the latter (sorry Madge) has seen Santa Maria’s steady rise to South London fame and a recent appearance on Gordon Ramsay’s The F Word. You don’t come here for anything but steak, starters are nothing sensational (grilled cheese, chorizo, Serrano ham), but the steaks, oh the steaks – from 8oz to a pound of fillet, sirloin, rib-eye or rump – are served plain and simple (you can order sauces but that would be defying the point). The wine list, like the beef, is born and raised Argentinean and equally juicy and delicious. Argentina will be crying that this one got away.

Santa Maria del Sur

129 Queenstown Road

Battersea

SW8 3RH

020 7622 2088

http://www.santamariadelsur.co.uk/

Cah Chi (SW18)
Korean food might not get the top-billing of its Chinese and Japanese neighbours, but Cah Chi is no bit part. The star of the SW London Korean scene at their New Malden branch, the Earlsfield incarnation loses some of the more unusual dishes but excels in the crowd-pleasing barbecued fare. But don’t dive straight for your hot plate: glistening translucent dumplings and spicy stir-fries whet your appetite nicely before the table-top barbecue is revealed and your choice of meat sizzled then wrapped in a lettuce leaf with spring onions and Korean ‘miso’ called chang. With green-tea cheesecake and sake to round things off, plus a BYO on wine, Cah Chi is sure to come to play a regular role.

On our visit we opted for the set menu - hit me:

Our 'amuse bouche': fried soya beans, various (slightly mystery) pickled veg and a very-mash-potato-like potato salad... not a highlight, but there was plenty more to come.

Miso soup and more salad, we're getting warmer...

Now this was more like it and they were coming down thick and fast: vegetable stir fried noodles...

Delicately shiny pork dumplings...

And hot hot hot squid stir fry... yum.

But this is what it's all about: the barbeque. Over came the waitress, the middle of our table taken out, hot plate lit and we watched on tender hooks as she deftly chopsticked the sizzling pork (it was near as damnit bacon, mmm) until it was crispily perfect.

Then to add a 'healthy' element the bac...uhum.. pork was wrapped in a little lettace leaf 'pancake' with shredded spring onions and kang (miso-like) sauce... refreshingly delicious.

Now I don't normally opt for desserts in Asian restaurants a) because I'm normally so stuffed and b) I have, shall we say, a few bad experiences. But green tea cheesecake? My favourite dessert on a health kick? How could I resist. And I was pleasantly surprised... especially when washed down with sake and sticky sweet plum wine.

Cah Chi

394 Garratt Lane

Earlsfield

SW18 4HP

020 8946 8811

http://www.cahchi.com/

Birthdays and bacon foam: Galvin at Windows

Lunchtime is under-rated. And lunchtime at top London restaurants is usually under-priced and under-booked - the creme of London's dining scene at under £30 for 3 courses? Yes please, sign me up. Unfortunately a little thing called work gets in the way of these weekday lunchtime indulgences usually but last Tuesday was my birthday. I don't do work on birthdays.

So the Pastry Mum came down from Glasgow and took me (and the bro) to Galvin at Windows. Man, I love birthdays (and I still had the Boy's extravaganza on Saturday... can it live up to?) I haven't been to that many hotel restaurants in London, and that doesn't really have much to do with not having stayed at any of the big London hotels. They are just normal so... out of reach, and yes that does often mean overpriced. They cater to a, uhum, more international cliental, ie. those who could actually afford their room rates. But they do attract some of the heavyweight chefs (Koffman, Ramsay et al) and often the stars (I mean Michelin not celebrities) to back it up. So I knew what to expect - waiters like bees to a honeypot flapping and flumping napkins and pulling chairs. What I didn't expect, although I knew they would be, was the view. Wowsers.

As we were on the lunch deal we weren't allowed near the a la carte but set menus (even Arbutus' two choicer number) never bother me... I'll eat anything.

It took me two seconds to decide - the words foie gras and cuttlefish did it for me. Oh and a rather nice bottle of Gavi (the wine list actually starts from around £18 which was refreshing).

You couldn't fault the starter, but hey a good foie gras is a safe choice, and it came with perfectly toasted, napkin wrapped bread to spread it on. Although, as usual, I ran out before the gras did... I can never get it right.

The main though was the deal clincher. And we all ordered it. I wouldn't normally go for a full house ('What!? I'm not going to even see (let alone have a sneaky taste of) the others?!') but I wasn't going to give up the cuttlefish, although it transpired my mother would - she doesn't do fish without scales. Of course it was perfectly balanced: the fresh bream, the soft cuttlefish flavour and texture, the sweet tartness of the onions, the light but richly flavoured risotto and the devilishly creamy bacon foam. Aah the foam.

The dessert is always a bit of an aftertought my family but after the all-round main we went one of each.

 

I won with the almond pannacotta and blackberry compote - I was scraping the glass with my little spoon in a most unladylike like manner. I would have probably tried to lick it if the waiters hadn't whipped in with:

Woo! Lest I forget it's my birthday. And there was just time for some homemade marshmallows, which tasted like I imagined clouds would if they were made of sugar - like inhaling light, flumpy morsels of sweetness (reminds me I must dig out that recipe for homemade marshmallows and give it a whirl).

Oh and a sighting of Russell Brand. But even that wasn't going to sour the experience.

Viennese treat - Bistro Delicat, Battersea

I admit the last time I was in Vienna, inter-railing aged 18, I had far from a gastronomic time. Aside from a lot of amazing cake, most of my foodie memories involve bread and cheese from supermarkets at the best, and McDonalds and Pizza Hut at the worst on a rainy Sunday after we rashly decided to take a night train to Venice on Sunday night, check out our hostel on the Sunday morning and spend the day mooching around Vienna. This would've been fine if it hadn't torrentially rained, and if, in typical European-style, almost everything been shut for Sunday. Even the cake shops. We ended up riding the underground for a dry, warm activity. It was a low point. (Although I've just discovered that one of my favourite museums in the whole world Kunst Haus Vien - a visually-intoxicating museum built by and dedicated to Austrian artist/architect Hundertwasser. The man believed strongly in colour and little in straight lines - is actually open on Sunday. We visited on Saturday.)

Anyway my knowledge of Viennese cuisine extended little beyond cakes (I blanked out the other disasters). Wiener Shnitzel maybe, but I don't think I actually ate it there as I was in my weird vegetarian phase (it was a strange time of my life). So when new restuarant Bistro Delicat opened on South West London's eatathon that is Northcote Road at the beginning of July I was intrigued. Not least because it was a new restaurant in South West London that wasn't a chain (harsh, but kinda fair). Not least because of the Ikea goes uber-chic Scandi-esque decor of black and white tiles and neat pale wood table and chairs. But because it promised Austrian cuisine, and I wasn't entiring sure what that would mean on the menu...

The Boy was away playing with cars in Hungary so I met my old uni-friend, the extra-talented and ultra-liability Jonathan. He was half-an-hour late despite living round the corner. But no matter, it gave me plenty of time to study the menu, have owner Erik introduce me to some Austrian whites (which dominates the menu, white and red - you won't find a better selection in London). The French, German and English newspapers hanging waiting to be read on the white tiled walls and the Parisian bistro soundtrack (identified immediately by Jonathan as the Amelia soundtrack, appropriately enough) gave the continental-cafe vibe. As did the multi-European staff (German chef, French sous, and vegetarian French waiter 'It's difficult in France... they don't understand...')

Rye bread and olive oil was followed (with Jonathan's eventual crashing into the restaurant) with starters: Austrian curd ravioli-type pasta Schlutzkrapfen, filled with curd cheese and spinach (a heavier touch but with more bite than traditional Italian pasta):

And a charcuterie board - German Schwarzwaelder Schinken (Black Forest ham), French Bayonne ham, Austrian Tyrol Speck, duck rillette (Erik tells us it had been cooked for 17 hours), saucisson rosette, cornichons and pickled baby onions.

Mains we opted for one more predictable yellow-fin tuna with home-made pesto and tomato salad - which was everything you'd expect, but lovely nevertheless.

The other choice was a given, and I wasn't really given a choice - 'I've been told our Wiener Schnitzel is the best this side of Vienna' says Erik. I was sold. And not disappointed. Feather-light batter, paper-thin veal and a lemon in a muslin cloth (a nice touch).

Not content with showing off the Wiener Schnitzel, Erik's enthusiasm also translated into a taster of scallops and confit pork belly, which was every bit a melting moment as you'd hope.

Sides were really a bit superfluous - ratatouille (average) and intensely and addictively garlicky spinach.

Desserts, well with my past Viennese experience how could we refuse? No cakes this time, but again we straddled continental Europe with French crêpes and Austrian sweet apricot Knödel - deliciously naughty balls of dumpling that tasted like cake gone deep fried... as with the rest of the meal the Austrian elements won out. So much so I even forgot to take a picture... oh well you'll just have to go and see for yourself.

Bistro Delicat
124 Northcote Road
SW11 6QU
020 7924 3566
http://www.bistrodelicat.com/

Something fishy up North - Crabshakk, Glasgow

Most of my food memories of my teenage years when I grew up in Glasgow revolve around one place: 24/7 Cafe on Sauchihall Street (which after various incarnations is now called Steak and Cherry, I don't think it serves steaks or cherries mind...). USA Breakfasts and curly fries at 3am celebrating a night trying to kiss boys and wiggle our hips and ‘small and humble’ breasts like Shakira to ‘Whenever, Wherever’ if we got into The Garage or The Shack (the place to go if you were around 17 in Glasgow in 2001 before it burnt down), or cheese toasties and milkshakes to commiserate a night of getting turned away for dodgy fake IDs and ending up at Destiny at the wrong end of town trying to avoid boys with teeth missing wanting to kiss us and attempting to feel the beat of dodgy happy hardcore soundtrack. It was only a really bad night if one of us failed to get in to 24/7 on the account of being still too drunk.... but let’s not dwell on that.

Going back to Glasgow to visit now my dining-dial is still set to the early noughties – French martinis at The Social on Royal Exchange Square, the disappointment of finding that OKO (Glasgow’s first catching on to the sushi trend in the Merchant City) has shut, god, I can still remember when I was at university in Edinburgh the trip through on the train for the excitement of Wagamama opening north of the border. But Glasgow’s dining scene has moved on since then and so have I.

Crabshakk (look past the ridiculous spelling, I hate it too) opened last year and caught national attention when various Saturday supplements reviewed it including Kate Spicer for The Times while up with fishboy Tom Aikens filming Iron Chef. Having heard mutterings before from Glaswegian fish-loving friends my interest was piqued; when I found out even my mother (who doesn’t like shellfish, oh the travesty) had been, I knew I had to get a table. So Choux Boy and I decided what better way to celebrate our engagement (again) than to eat lots of fish and drink lots of wine. Perfect if you ask me.

Glasgow pretty much is divided into ‘town’ (The shopping Z of Sauchihall Street, Buchanan Street and Argyle Street and surrounds) and ‘the Westend’ (Byres Road and the university area) with two distinct camps of fans. ‘Town’ is more flash, more cocktail bars and fusion-dining with a spattering of old institutions, while ‘the Westend’, with its student and arty inhabitants, is more low-key and understated cool. The Crabshakk falls geographically and demographically between the two, located at the unventured end of Argyle St round from the mega-concert/exhibition centre the SECC. The unassuming narrow glass frontage is easy to miss: a discreet sign on the door and catch a glimpse of whole crabs being demolished at the huge bar that dominates the downstairs, and you know you are in the right place. ‘Get a table upstairs,’ was my mother’s instruction. ‘Downstairs the tables are so narrow Joan and I could barely fit our fish and chips on them – it’s just like bits of driftwood!’. Whether my mother appreciated the chic seaside vibe was questionable, but the calm blue walls, wood-panelling, coastal prints and model boats on the wall suited the theme. But still our friendly shaggy-haired waiter led us up to the glass-edged mezzanine level (the perfect vantage point for spying on what people were eating at the bar) and a large non-‘driftwood’ table – which was just as well as there was a lot of food to be ordered.

Like Santa Maria del Sur was to steak, Crabshakk is to fish, don’t come here if you don’t want to order it. Menus were cardboard strips, bulldog-clipped together – oysters, mussels, squid, scallops, lobster, and of course, crab. A steak, a veggie risotto and a few sides (chips, bread, salad) were about as off-piste as you got. A mini-blackboard of lunch specials were whisked over – smaller portioned catches – and it was decision time. Not to limit our options the Boy and I went for the old chestnut of sharing everything: six oysters, starter portion of scallops in anchovy butter, a lunch special of grilled mackerel on a bed of leeks and beans with an olive tapenade dressing, bread, salad, and of course, a whole crab. Well, when in Rome...

Fresh oysters and a couple of glasses of prosecco kicked of the celebratory mood nicely – not much that could go wrong there. And from the 12.30 quietness when we arrived, the tables will filling up with Friday lunchtime groups of businessmen (champagne and mussels all round), families and couples; it was chocca.

Scallops came sizzling in a mini cast iron-pot... and looked amazing. Two huge and plump with a baby friend to fight over, cutting into them and the texture was about as buttery as well, butter. They melted in my mouth as the Boy and I fought over the last morsel. The anchovy butter that crusted onto the pot round the edges was crying out to be soaked up by hulks of bread.

‘Do you know that is pure fat you are putting on your bread,’ says Choux Boy, in an unusually healthy observation.

‘I know... Mmmmm!’ At this point I really don’t care, anyway fish is healthy isn’t it?

‘Another glass of prosecco?’ asks shaggy waiter.

‘No, a bottle of the Chardonnay.’ We were on a roll.

I think one of the best things about crab (or even lobster) is that you really feel like you are working for your reward. All that cracking and scrapping and accidentally spraying crab meat at the next table, as the gravely-voiced man in the Guinness advert says ‘Good things come to those who wait.’ Tick tock tick... But sometimes you’re starving, so the mackerel was a good idea – a snack while we dug around for our food.

I got cracking while the Boy tucked into his mackerel half, then I down tools for mine – fresh and tasty but the most interesting part of it was probably the tapenade dressing, which was an unexpected hit. With the two of us toiling the crab was quickly de-constructed – going down the patient route of fishing out all the prime white meat and adding it to the main shell of brown meat to mix together and spread on the bread. Eventually, it was time. And it was worth it: full and flavoursome and tender.

The main event might have been over but we weren't done there, resting happily surveying our kingdom (and almost seriously considering ordering another portion of the scallops as another sizzling pot of temptation was served as a main course at the bar downstairs) Shaggy returned cheerfully clearing up our mess and doing the usually waiter chat of trying to tempt us with one more course. He needn't have worried we were sold: affogato and a special of chocolate tart. 'And maybe some coffee afterward?' Oh, yes, two macchiatos. Shaggy trotted downstairs happy.

Both majored on creamy, seed-flecked vanilla ice-cream and rounded off the feast nicely although not spectacularly. Time for the bill, which was the biggest treat - £90. I'm sure you'd agree: an absolute bargain. And only four and a half hours on the train from London. Get there fast.

Crabshakk
1114 Argyle St
Finnieston
Glasgow
G3 8TD
0141 334 6127
http://www.crabshakk.com/

Steak it to him The BBBBL (Boy's Big Boozy Birthday Lunch) - Santa Maria del Sur

Like most of the important dates in our relationship, Choux Boy's birthday revolves around eating. What are presents but mere things when I could give the him the gift of really great food? Ok, that's bollocks, treating him to a great meal is actually a rather tasty excuse for me to birthday benefit as well, after all I don't think the watch I bought him would fit my wrist too well...

So after eye-ing it up for months, I booked us a table for Sunday at Santa Maria del Sur on Queenstown Road. Even weeks before the big date they only had mid-afternoon tables left (a good sign surely?) so I plumped for 2.30pm (it was a Sunday after all, it was made for lunching) and the Boy's Big Boozy Birthday Lunch (BBBBL) was born.

Not that that was the start of his gastronomic celebration. Oh no. With a lunch so late there was plenty of time for brunch (the BLBBB - Boy's Little Boozy Birthday Brunch - if you will) Champagne, fresh orange juice and Bacon and Parsley Hotcakes (delicious, easy recipe - I added an extra slice of fried bacon to the stack under the poached egg for good measure - well it was his birthday after all - plus a bit of tabasco to give it a kick) set us up nicely.

You don't go to Santa Maria del Sur if you don't want to eat steak. The whole place revolves around the simplicity of serving really great steak. Plain wooden tables and chairs packed together and exposed brickwork do nothing to detract from the big open kitchen with a huge adjustable grill in the window. The menu is steak. There's few distractions. Starters of morcilla, chorizo, serano ham or, if you're not quite ready for the meat, grilled tuna steak. Sides of chips or salads. Variety is not the spice of Santa. But who cares, you only came for the steak anyway didn't you? The wine list, like the beef, is born and raised Argentinian. We opt for a smooth Séptimo Día - Cabernet Sauvignon 2005 - Luján de Cuyo (a choice that prompted the owner to bring us proper red wine glasses 'you need good glasses for good wine' which had the Boy's chest puff a little with his wine choosing prowess) and starters of grilled provolone cheese (which is just cheese, grilled, a lot of it) and serrano ham with palm hearts and mayo sauce. All well and good but nothing special.

It was time for the special. It was time for the steak. They range from 8oz to pound of prime Argentinian beef; rump, rib-eye, fillet or sirloin. The quest for the perfect steak has a almost cultish appeal. It's got a seductive blend of exclusivity, primal carnivorousness and sheer simplicity. It's cow, killed, grilled, on the plate. But what makes one steak great? Who knows. Is the meat, the cooking, the occasion? Well, we ticked all three. Two 8oz sirloins, medium rare.

Gorgeously charred on the outside, baby soft pink on the inside. Moist and packed with flavour. Simplicity as it should be: a handful of salad on the side, a grilled pepper on top. Fat, fluffy chips and a couple of sauces on the side: tomato and onion salsa and mustard and white wine. It didn't need it but it didn't hurt. 'I think this is the best steak I've ever eaten,' says the Boy. That's the idea. Now I knew what all the fuss was about.

Like all good things it had to come to an end and we emerged from our red mist of fine meat and juicy wine back into the Battersea sunshine. Stuffed. Well, not quite stuffed... you see up the road  from Santa Maria del Sur is another great Battersea international import: Italian Gelateria Danieli. Raspberry Ripple and the creamiest Strawberry can-you-even-call-it-sorbet ever in a proper biscuit cone was my final treat. And it wasn't even my birthday...

Santa Maria del Sur

129 Queenstown Road

Battersea

SW8 3RH

020 7622 2088

http://www.santamariadelsur.co.uk/

Gelateria Danieli

47 Queenstown Road

Battersea

SW8 3RX

http://www.gelateriadanieli.com/