32 Great Queen Street, Covent Garden

Like a celebrity wearing sunglasses indoors, 32 Great Queen Street likes to think it's something special, from the conspicuously nameless frontage and dark wood panelling. Inside however it's business as usual in the standard gastropub style - bare wood tables, rickety chairs, tumblers instead of wine glasses. It's a recipe that's worked well enough for its sister pubs the Anchor & Hope and Eagle, and judging by the noisy room full of happy customers on the evening we visited, it's got off to a very good start here too.


The first thing I noticed after I'd sat down was that the room appeared to be full of chefs; it was only after a few minutes it dawned on me that the waiting staff all were wearing chef's aprons. I suppose this isn't a big deal but it made me slightly guilty trying to ask for something, as if I wasn't supposed to be bothering them. Still, I soon got over it.


There were all sorts of interesting things on the minimalist menu - brawn, snails, fois gras, artichoke - quite an eclectic selection and it made exciting reading. However the trend towards stripped down descriptions of the items was a bit extreme. I had no idea what the 'Terrine' was a terrine of, or what 'crab on toast' was going to look like, but I suppose the mystery was appealing in a way. In the end I plumped for 'Brawn'.


This looked lovely on the plate, a rustic presentation but just tidy enough, and having had no idea what to expect from the description in the menu I was very pleasantly surprised. The texture of the brawn itself (ironically a kind of terrine) was interesting, with some big chunks of meat held together by a tasty pate, and cutting through the fat was a good sharp spray of mustard vinaigrette. A perfect introduction to something I'd never tried before - subtle, herby and great fresh ingredients.


The main was "Rabbit, snails and Spanish rice", so being the adventurous type I am it was a natural choice. It turned out to be a kind of risotto, bursting with gorgeous flavours and perfectly seasoned. The snails were superb, not drowned by the other ingredients at all, and nice and fleshy. In fact the only thing that stopped this dish short of perfection were a couple of horrible dry pieces of (I think) rabbit liver that I had to leave uneaten. Fair enough to use them in cooking the stock, but they had no place on the plate. Otherwise though, a good, bold main course.


The dessert was another hit - a Muscat Caramel Custard which tasted rich and satisfying, even if it looked a bit saggy on the plate. I had this with a glass of Muscat dessert wine - why not? - but the £10 house white we had been chucking down our necks all evening was also perfectly good.

It was about this time that I began to notice the overwhelming array of aromas filling the room from all the other dishes. Everything smelt incredible, of fresh ingredients and rustic French flavours; every time a waiter rushed past with another serving you could almost see other diner's nostrils flaring. Calm and sophisticated this restaurant is not, but for sheer exhilarating pleasure and market fresh food at very reasonable prices (the bill came to £38 each, including more than enough wine), you can certainly do no better in this part of town.

8/10

Santa Maria del Sur, Battersea

Things are definitely on the up in my corner of South West London. Fitting in nicely next to the refined French atmosphere of the Food Room, Queenstown Road now has another quality eatery from a whole different continent. Santa Maria del Sur has one other branch out in Hackney somewhere, and has obviously proved so popular with the 'Enders that now the other side of the river gets a taste too.

We turned up on-spec fairly early - 6:30 or so - and were surprised to discover that they were fully booked for that Friday night. That they managed to fit us in is an indicator of the level of service, and that they were fully booked - well that's always a good sign.

It has traditionally been the case that a quality steak has been very hard to come by in London. I think part of the problem is the cost of the raw ingredients - Hawksmoor in the city do a fantastic aged Longhorn sirloin with triple-cooked chips and as many cocktails as you can fit inside you, but at £30 for the meat alone this is something you really pay through the nose for. Prices at Santa Maria immediately strike you as much more reasonable, £17 for a fillet for example, or £15 for sirloin. Quality steaks will never be cheap in England, but it's nice to find somewhere that treads that tricky middle ground between the very top-end (Hawksmoor, Groucho Grill) and the dross that is Angus Steakhouse. The sight of a miserable German family trapped in the window of a Covent Garden Angus Steakhouse of a Saturday night always turns my stomach. I feel like picketing the entrance sometimes - unwary tourists should not be subjected to that kind of torture.


These steaks however, were very good. Not as completely drop-dead gorgeous as the Hawksmoor (or Peter Luger) specimens, but extremely tasty, cooked to the required medium-rare in all cases, and served with sharp slice of pickled pepper.


Sides included parsley and garlic chips (nice enough, though the chips were a bit dry), and butter beans, which were a real hit with everyone - oily and herby and went very well with the steaks. It was all washed down with an Argentinian (of course) Mendoza which was a fantastic drink.


I should also say that the restaurant itself was decorated in a very comfortable rustic style, the Argentinian staff were charming and added an extra air of authenticity, and service throughout was not only efficient but attentive, friendly and informal - pretty much spot on for this style of place. I feel a bit guilty about denegrating their open kitchen the other day, but I hope they'll forgive me. Santa Maria del Sur is a lovely little restaurant.

7/10

Cheese and Biscuits on tour - El Moli de L'Escala

It's a very strange phenomenon - hitherto also demonstrated on my review of the Greyhound - that somehow a mediocre dining experience seems to affect the ability of my cameraphone to focus. It's almost as if the lens is trying to shield me from the full horror of the meal, and allow me to forget. So apologies in advance for the quality of the shots for this blog entry, and further apologies on behalf of El Moli de L'Escala for the quality of the food itself.


El Moli ranks itself amongst some other reasonably good restaurants in the area as a member of the Nou Cuina group. As I've previously mentioned, the Nou Cuina has yet to be explained to me in full, but if nothing else it's perhaps indicative of a new-found confidence in Catalan cuisine and a desire to create a recognisable brand to the wider world. On the basis of my meal here however, they've got an uphill struggle.

One thing this restaurant does have going for it is a great setting. As the name suggests, it's an old converted mill, and the lovely vaulted room we ate in had bags of character, even if it was a bit echoey on a quiet weekday night out of season. The bread rolls presented were nice and fluffy and warm too, if a little uninteresting, and the olives were OK. In fact I probably should have made more of the bread and olives because they were the last edible items presented to me that evening.


Things went rapidly downhill with the arrival of my scallops starter. Looking and tasting like something straight out of a Mike Leigh film, this was a hideously amateurish attempt at fine dining. Tasteless, dry scallops (probably frozen) smothered in parmesan cheese and - I kid you not - chocolate sauce. Cheese and chocolate together, mmm! Hands down the most disgusting thing I've ever been asked to eat, and that includes cheese and onion flavoured microchips I found in the freezer once at university.


The next course - if you can call it that - was a miniscule portion of bland chicken satays, not actually disgusting but very very dull. Some sort of cheese sauce I think, with that sprinkling of dried herbs on top some pubs do to try and make it looks like they've been to chef school.


We didn't even have a dessert. Paying up as fast as possible (it wasn't even that cheap, about €40 each I seem to remember, including wine) we scurried out into the night, vowing never to return. An embarassing gamble that didn't pay off - unlike the previous night's meal at Els Pescadors - it's even more shocking to discover that El Moli is actually in the Michelin guide with one knife and fork. I don't know how they justify that, because I'm pretty sure even in season the useless cooking would make a hash of much fresher ingredients. Still, you live and learn.

2/10

Cheese and Biscuits on tour - Els Pescadors, L'Escala

You can do very well and very badly in the Costa Brava with regards to eating out. There's certainly no shortage of choice in most of the coastal resorts, but separating the good from the ok from the very very poor is a full-time job. And what makes this job more frustrating is that between the always good and the always crap are a huge amount of places which depending on the season, availability of fresh fish and the whims and fads of the management can sometimes be excellent and sometimes shocking. This makes recommending anywhere unreservedly a bit of a minefield - however, I suppose there's always a certain amount of luck involved with a good meal, so I shouldn't get too depressed about it.


Family-run restaurant Els Pescadors has been a feature of the seafront at L'Escala certainly since I've been visiting in the mid-80s, but it seems that I only have a good meal there every other visit. Fortunately this time, on an occasion where I'd brought two friends and my restaurant-finding reputation was on the line, we just about managed to get away with an enjoyable evening. On arrival we were presented with a small plate of bread and anchovies - the local speciality, quite different from the horrible salty little things you get in Pizza Express. These are larger, oily rather than salty, and very very nice. The best way I've had them is on top of slightly toasted stale baguette, rubbed with garlic and tomato, but weirdly you hardly ever get them like that in the restaurants - usually, as here, it's just tomato.


As a shared starter we ordered the "recommended" sampler of four different types of seafood and a glass of house cava. This one dish saved the whole meal from being a disappointment. Calamari were nice and fluffy, the clams had a great garlic-wine aroma, the little croquettes were very well made and were a good example of this local speciality, and the spectacular spiney sea snails tasted as good as they looked.


The mains were nearly as good. Mussels were nice and fresh but lacking a bit in the flavour of the sauce. The less said about my veal the better (clearly straight out of the freezer, pretty horrible), but the paella was a hit. Huge langoustines, as well as octopus, clams and mussels were found in amongst the gooey rice - a good paella is a voyage of discovery, and this was no exception.


So not a bad evening out, a good seafood dinner let down only by a plate of inedible veal and a few sloppy mistakes here and there. Els Pescadors is actually in the Michelin with a two knife and fork rating - I'm not sure this is entirely justified based on my visits, but perhaps the Michelin guys are just a bit cleverer with their ordering. The tank of live lobster and crab in the window of the restaurant demonstrates that it is possible to have a very decadent meal here if you want to splash out, but for mere mortals the chances are success are a bit thinner. Still, if it's true that you're only as good as your last meal, then I can't be too hard on Els Pescadors.

5/10

Cheese and Biscuits on tour - El Cellar de Can Roca, Girona

Another month, another handful of Michelin Stars to add to the old scrapbook. Yes, sometimes I think I do lead a rather charmed life, at least for the fleeting moments before my credit card bills arrive. El Cellar de Can Roca is a haute cuisine destination restaurant, thanks to its two Michelin stars, and is located in an unassuming (read: dull) suburb of the otherwise lovely city of Girona, Catalonia. It is run by three brothers - who in an almost mythical separation of duties handle the savoury courses, the desserts, and the wine, in turn. It seems to be a very Spanish thing to have family-run cooperative restaurants rather than a named chef, as I've spotted this a few times in the Michelin entries in the area; perhaps there's just less ego at play regarding food here than in France or the UK. You wouldn't find Gordon Ramsay sharing cooking duties with his brother - partly because Gordon has an ego the size of a planet, but mainly because his brother is a recovering heroin addict, and you need a steady hand for those lobster ravioli.



After being kept waiting and ignored for about half an hour in the waiting room area - not a great start - we were seated in a windowless room and the service picked up a bit. Amuse-bouches were a selection of various deep fried thingies including some home-made Quavers - sorry I mean cod crackers.


They were very nice though, melted in the mouth and had a huge amount of flavour.


Then - another nice surprise - a second pre-starter arrived, a trilogy of fois gras thingy, cauliflower somethingorother and indistinguishable brown doodah. Sorry, the waiter did do his best in pidgin English to explain what they were but a combination of the accent and the fact that they weren't on the menu means I can't really say much about them. Tasty though.


Starter was an apple and fois gras tartelets, and don't they look lovely? The flavour combination was astonishing too - anything sweet goes well with fois gras but the apple seemed to work particularly well and the crispy almonds on top were a good texture contrast. There was also quite a lot of food here for a starter, and for a self-confessed glutton such as myself this also won points. A very nice dish, if slightly overseasoned.


My next course was a pork terrine, and unfortunately I have to say I didn't like this one at all. It was very rich, just a big slab of fatty meat on a plate with not much else going on, and I was hugely disappointed. It was also massively over salted. Maybe I was missing something, but I couldn't help thinking that even at the highest levels of fine dining some tastes must just be so subjective that making every dish appeal to everyone is an impossible task. Or perhaps Catalan cuisine is sometimes too bizarre for it's own good.


The dessert was another surreal experimental masterpiece - a "lactic dessert" they called it, and once you'd got over the disgusting name it was nice enough. It was basically milk done a number of different ways (ice-cream, custard, etc.), with a little piece or two of fruit tucked inside to give it flavour. And perched on top like a toupee was an impressive quiff of silver candyfloss, which was probably quite tricky to make with milk but tasted like... candyfloss. Sugary. Still, you have to admire their imagination.


Wines suggested throughout were always spot-on, even if they did take the mick a little bit with a €40 glass of Muscat to go with the fois gras. I've had this happen to me before at the Greenhouse in Mayfair so really I should be wary of any fois-gras pairings - the waiter helpfully pointed out this eyebrow-raising item on the bill at the end, with a cheery smile. Perhaps he thought that even if I couldn't send it back by this stage, he'd at least have a good laugh at my expense. Well done him. And talking of the bill, the damage was around €120 per head, which puts it in the cheaper end of the 2* establishments in Europe, so definitely worth the trip down in the hire car. However overall I'd still have to say I left Can Roca slightly underwhelmed; it was a little disappointing to discover that Spanish food even at this level can fall foul of the same bugbears I have for 90% of the restaurants in this country, namely, too fatty, too oily, too salty, too much. But as an evening's entertainment it was very pleasant, and as another couple of stars to add to my personal roster it came at a reasonable price. But give me another lunch at Calella any day - when simple food can be that good, why try any harder?

5/10

The Food Room, Battersea

Sometimes I think I'm really spoiled. At one end of my road, not 5 minutes walk away, is the Fox and Hounds, gastropub extraordinaire. And at the other, on an otherwise barren stretch of Queenstown Road, are two restaurants bravely setting out to create a mini foodie haven in my little corner of Battersea. One is a new Argentinian steakhouse called Santa Maria de Buen Ayre, which I'm sure I'll get round to visiting one day but have been put off slightly by the way they keep huge amounts of meat piled-up ready-cooked on the grill by the window. One tip for restaurants - if you're going to have the kitchen on show, make sure it looks like you're cooking nice fresh food and not just preparing for a nuclear holocaust.

Anyway just next door to this South American upstart is The Food Room, a low-key establishment aimed squarely at being nothing more than a "good local restaurant" - think Chez Bruce in Wandsworth or Lambert's in Balham. In fact, I've started to notice quite a few nice little local restaurants scattered around South London just at the moment - it's a very pleasing trend.

And what's more pleasing is that the Food Room is actually very good indeed. Our welcome was both French AND friendly - quite an extraordinary feat to pull off - although admittedly being the only diners in the restaurant all evening, I don't suppose the staff were overstretched. The homemade parmesan bread and tomato bread were tasty enough, and the glass of prosecco that came with our cheapo Toptable menu (£19.50 for three courses - brilliant value) went down very well.


Things really got interesting when my starter arrived - a perfectly cooked couple of pieces of crispy red mullet with a gorgeously creamy garlicky potato salad. Texture played a big part in this dish, and it also looked fantastic - a delight for all the senses! Top marks for this one.


I opted to pay the £5 supplement for beef fillet, fois gras & truffle sauce (well of course I did), and this was great. Perfectly cooked beef, probably could have done with a little more flavour, but saved by a lovely big slab of fois on top and a smooth winey sauce. If nothing else it was worth ordering just to have these otherwise premium ingredients at such a bargain price. I imagine lots of restaurants would have charged the same for this one dish as I paid for the entire meal, and I bet it wouldn't have been as good. It's also worth mentioning at this point that a fellow diner's pork medallions in red wine & rosemary sauce with parsnip mash was declared the best meal she'd had in months, so full points there too.


Dessert was an interesting dish - coriander parfait with maple roasted pineapple. The parfait had a rather offputting dry texture, and it had probably been prepared a while in advance as an extra dish was whipped up in a matter of minutes after one of the waitresses got the dessert order slightly wrong. But the actual flavours involved were sound, the sweet coriander working surprisingly well and the maple-roast pineapple being as tasty as you would expect. Nothing spectacular, but no major complaints.

And for three tasty courses, a glass of bubbly and attentive service in nice surroundings, £19.50 is - I'll say again - a hell of a bargain. The only extras were the wine; a nice bottle of Viognier for around £18 and a glass of a medium-bodied Merlot to go with my decadent main. Probably the most bargainous fine dining experience in London at the moment I would hazard a guess. Certainly South London anyway, and it deserves a lot more custom than it appears to be getting. I've been to the Food room 3 or 4 times now and it's never really been very busy, in fact the last couple of times we've been the only people in there. All credit to the staff, the food and service is always of a very high standard, but I'm desperately worried that this situation can't continue. Six covers a night isn't enough to sustain any restaurant midweek. So fingers crossed for the future of the Food Room - with cooking of this quality, it deserves to be packed to the rafters every day.

8/10

Cheese and Biscuits on tour - Tragamar, Calella de Palafrugell

Thanks to the international reputation of restaurants such as Can Fabes, Can Roca and of course El Bulli, Catalonia's star is currently shining very brightly in the foodie universe. Labelled somewhat loosely as Nou Cuina (Catalan for Nouvelle Cuisine, though thankfully not bearing much of a resemblance to mid-80s food experiments with miniscule portions) there's not much that ties these places together other than a desire to please the boys from Michelin and to make a fortune from product endorsements, not that there's anything particularly wrong with that I suppose.

However at the other end of the scale, there's still a great deal of joy to be had from eating at local seafood restaurants, providing you do your research and don't just turn up anywhere expecting the meal of your life. I've still had enough bad experiences in supposedly rated restaurants (coming soon) to prove that Spain isn't - yet - as universally accomplished as France when it comes to regional cooking, but it's all moving in the right direction.

Perhaps it's also worth noting that if the sheer beauty of a restaurant's location can help you look kindly upon niggles with the food itself, then it's probably no coincidence that the Costa Brava finds itself so regularly lauded, with scenes like these:


This is the bay of Calella de Palafrugell, a stunning stretch of coastline in an area not short of stunning stretches of coastline. And nestled in amongst the whitewashed buildings on the beach is Tragamar, an old favourite from holidays past and never one to disappoint when looking for a good lunch. Don't expect me to translate all the items on the Catalan menu, but here we have clams in a kind of white wine/vinegar sauce, and very tasty it was too. The only thing I'd say is that I wish they weren't so rough with the clams because there were quite a few smashed and splintered shells hiding in that dish and eating them was a bit tricky without ripping your gums apart.


The main was pork medallions with shallots and (I think) bitter chocolate sauce, with a spectacular spray of fried red sweet potato on top, which as well as looking amazing really complimented the sweet sauce very well. Hidden round the back there are parsnip chips, and notice how lovely and pink the pork is. I really enjoyed this one.


And to prove that this presentation wasn't a one-off, here's a friend's monkfish main:


I'm told that this was good, not spectacular, but fine for a quick lunch. Which is all we wanted, so we skipped desert and headed back out into the blazing sunshine of a fresh April afternoon. Friendly, reasonably priced and characterful, Tragamar is the kind of place you wish existed in every seaside resort in Spain, but of course this is not an ideal world. I suppose the great con trick is that good local places make it all look so easy you wonder why everywhere isn't like this, until you try somewhere on spec and have a terrible meal and you realise "oh yeah, it's not that easy after all, is it?". But while the sun shines over Calella, Tragamar will continue to cast a spell over the discerning holidaymakers of Catalonia.

8/10

P.S. As we ate out quite a lot in Spain, I'm going to send the next few reviews through in installments. So stay tuned for more of the good and the bad of Catalonia 2007.