Ropewalk Market, Maltby Street, Bermondsey

Lately I haven’t been able to face Borough market. There is lots about it to love, but the swathes of tourists you’re forced to navigate makes a relaxed of Spanish hams and stinky cheeses impossible. More recently, trips have taken on a human herding quality typical to that endured during underground rush hour; not what you’re looking for on a Saturday morning.

Instead, last weekend, we wondered down Bermondsey way. About 10 minutes down the road you come to Ropewalk market just off Maltby street, a little nook of railway arches that’s bustling with traders. Even with our numb noses from the weekend’s bitter weather we were hit by the smells conjured up by the various food stalls. I opted for the pulled pork with poached apple and celeriac remoulade from Market Gourmet which was delicious. Fall apart meatiness in a sweet brioche bun and mustardy bite from the remoulade. My market friend choose WaffleOn for his market treat, tucking away his warm & fluffy waffles with smoked bacon and runny fried egg in impressive speed. This eating was all done in the comfort & warmth of a reclamation warehouse, you just have to be mindful to sit on a chair that actually has a seating panel and all four legs solidly intact. Testing my descriptive language, a retro dance class taking place in what can only be described as a 1940’s mock living room set up in the middle of said reclamation yard. An odd, but nice, surprise spectacle.

I have to admit that, although in high praise of the pulled pork bun, I really wrestled with the possibility of iberico ham, cheese and wine at Tozino, a dimly lit and inviting bodega, but so packed we couldn’t get further than the front door. Next time I suppose. To finish off our foody trip we popped into Peyton & Byrne for coffees, a slice of cherry pie heaven and a breeze block sized lamington and subsequently rolled home. Now this is what a London food market should be.

Bermondsey SE1 3PA

Flat Iron, Soho

Through a skinny door, not made for those who like steak and chips, we arrived at Flat Iron with trepidation to face a long wait. Thankfully the no reservations policy didn’t sting us this time and we were swiftly taken upstairs at the only place I can think of that offers great steak for a tenner in London.

After a quick diversionary trip to the loos, I arrived at the table with half of the beef dripping popcorn already demolished by my fellow diners. Rude, but also demonstrative of how delicious it was – salty, meaty, yum. We were given a gratefully received refill. There is a relaxed feel at Flat Iron, with wooden tables and chairs, low lighting and exposed brick walls. The kitsch touch was your assigned mini meat cleaver which, with all things shrunken in size, we marvelled at leading to one of the diners buying two on the way out.

The menu was to the point with feather steak as the only option which, to save you the google search I did, is a cheap but delicious cut taken from the shoulder blade. There were a few side & sauce options too but all in all the menu was pretty easy to quickly navigate. This isn’t a place you’d go for a light salad.

Arriving on a slate & wooden board, the steak had a chew similar to a good sirloin with great flavour. It was exemplarily cooked, charred on the outside with a pink middle, cut into slices already you realise pretty quickly that the meat cleaver’s job is redundant. The chips were also delicious. This might not sound congratulatory but they had a distinct MacDonald’s-y taste about them which I loved, and slathered in their rich béarnaise they tasted even better. The sides didn’t disappoint either, especially the roasted aubergine which was sweet and caramelised with salty parmesan muddled in.

Although I had no room left, I soldiered on and asked for the pudding option. It was a relaxed affair with the waiter plonking a glass cup in front of us and squirting, et voila! style, salted caramel and chocolate mousse from a cream whipping canister. As I loved angel delight in my childhood years, drinking them as ‘milkshakes’ before solidifying in my stomach and causing self-induced tummy pains, I enjoyed the salty but sweet mousse. I think the view of the other diners was a slight nonchalant take it or leave it which was good news for me given we’d ordered one with two spoons.

All in all, Flat Iron was great quality, satisfying food, at fantastic prices. The cut of steak was one that I hadn’t had before and definitely one I’ll be seeking the next time steak is on the menu at home. At just over £60 for three of us with a round of locally brewed beers I’ll be going back.

17 Beak St, Soho, W1F 9RW

Wild and Wood, Holborn

Wild and Wood is unassuming in frontage, on a nondescript stretch of road near Holborn station. With tired wooden pews outside and a cracked window it doesn’t scream ‘come on in’, but I do. Regularly. When you go in the lack of an outside welcome is more than made up for in this tiny coffee shop. It’s cosy, rustic but well loved, and is covered in gorgeous warm wood panelling. It’s also completely decked out in beautiful antique church furniture. I always try to get a seat in ‘the nook’ which is basically all of the above but compacted into the space the size of say a broom cupboard or maybe, what with all the churchy furniture, a confessional box. In any case it is cosiness x10.

They use Monmouth coffee here and know how to make a great cup. Wild and Wood also serve up delicious pastries, cakes and lunch bits and bobs stocked from Clarkes (an award winning bakery in Kensington). On this trip their offerings included a sticky looking orange polenta cake, ameretto cheesecake, a classic bakewell and savoury leek tart. We choose the brownie. I’m always disappointed when a brownie is more akin to chocolate cake – dry and crumbly with no rich chocolate taste. Here though it’s a no-brainer given its dense chocolately hit.

Definitely pop into this cute place, which was a London Lifestyle best coffee shop runner up in 2011,  if you’re in the area. A couple of coffees and cakes are never more than a tenner.

1 New Oxford St, WC1A 1BA

Lanka, Hampstead

I loved going to Lanka in Primrose Hill, a shoebox sized French patisserie with a Japanese twist. Having recently found it closed I experienced a wave of panic, until I read the note in the window directing me to their sister spot just off the Finchley Rd that I had no idea existed. On arrival it was familiar in feel. They’ve made it decidedly light and airy and always provide a very warm welcome. The cakes, tarts and pastries displayed are picture perfect, which makes sense when you learn the chef who heads up Lanka has worked at more Michelin starred places than you could shake a stick at. To confirm, you never hear a request for ‘two spoons please’ here.

You really are spoilt for choice. I would definitely recommend the green tea strawberry cake, and the lemon tart with a sugar crust is to die for. My mum has also previously been delighted to find the retro rum baba on offer. This trip the lemon tart, as expected, was just as good as ever with a perfect balance of the zingy custard and crisp, sweet, pastry. My fellow hampstead trekker had a warm croissant with homemade strawberry and blueberry jam and brownie for ‘dessert’. The only slight downside is the lack of fancy coffee here – with filter only on offer. Even if it is Monmouth, I like some kind of girly milky froth. As an alternative I had the rose petal green tea which smelt amazing and allowed me to delude myself into thinking that I’d somehow counterbalance the calorie overload.

I love Lanka, always have and always will, I can’t wait until they bring back their brunch menu they had at their Primrose Hill place. Definitely a treat worth having, this trip cost us £15 and a long walk home.

9 Goldhurst Terrace, London, NW6 3HX

Patty and Bun, Marylebone

We traded a ridiculously early dinner at Patty & Bun to reap the reward of no queue and, good lord, a table option. The place was laid back in decor with friendly staff. Patty & Bun doesn’t have the same degree of the ‘too cool for school’ vibe that places like MEATliqour and Pitt Cue possess, which is fine by me, as the corporate outfit I am duty bound to wear sticks out to a lesser extent on the school night that we visit.

Looking at the menu it is no fuss, all burger. We opted for a full farmyard selection and got the ‘lamb shank redemption’, ‘hot chick’ and the ‘smokey robinson’. Side wise we ordered the confit BBQ chicken wings and rosemary chips. As we waited and the place began to fill up, Patty & Bun started to blast out 90’s R&B hits which was a nice throw back touch, although slightly dangerous later on in the evening when I couldn’t resist an attempted sing-a-long with Mariah Carey’s ‘Fantasy’ warble with a mouth full of burger.

The burgers, arriving wrapped on a school dinner tray, smelt amazing and all of them didn’t let down on taste. I’ll review them in crescendo style – the lamb burger with corriander, chilli, braised red cabbage and cumin aioli was tasty with a earthy cumin-y middle eastern flavour. The chicken burger with bacon, pickled onion and tarragon mayo was succulent and a close second, with its fresh herby taste from the tarragon. Prize place though was the ‘smokey robinson’ a beef patty with bacon, cheese, caramelised onion and smokey mayo which was golden and oozey with the cheesey sticky onion muddle – it did risk verging on the too oozey for me with a decidely wet bun bottom – but delicious nonetheless. The beef was everything it should be with charred meaty edges and a pink middle that, mixed with the smokey mayo, gave a husky BBQ taste. The chicken wings were great too. I normally find that the effort/payback ratio of a chicken wing is slightly off, but these wings, with a really dark and sticky BBQ casing, were melt in your mouth tender with lots of meat to eat.

For pudding, we went for the only offering of ‘choc ices’. One of us had the peanut butter – a sneaky tactic given that both I and the third burger chomper hate it. We instead opted to share the hazlenut one, hanging on the waitresses promise of it tasting ‘just like Nutella’. Sadly it didn’t but it was perfectly nice all the same. Not sure though if I’d rush back to order another, nothing against the flavour, probably more a Sensodyne issue than anything else. Sensitive nashers beware.

As we left we congratulated ourselves on beating the substantial queue that had formed outside and reflected that anything more than a 20min wait and we’d head elsewhere with a view to trying Patty & Bun another, less busy, time. That said it was undeniably great, meaty, yummy and reasonable – for the three of us it was around £40. I’d recommend a visit with a focus on ensuring a slightly off beat visiting time to get the best chance of a table.

54 James St, London W1U 1EU

Opera Tavern, Covent Garden

I took my little sister to Opera Tavern for a birthday treat – a Spanish influenced gastro tapas spot. On arrival, we were initially taken from the buzz and warm glow of the ground floor to an upstairs seating space which was cold and diner-less. As we went to sit down and our voices echoed around the room, we knew we’d rather trade roominess for bustle and asked to be squeezed in downstairs near the open kitchen.

image from http://www.operatavern.co.uk/

With the logistics sorted we went about ordering tapas. For kings. A plate of iberico ham was a must, we also ordered perfectly cooked scallops with celeriac and smoked butter and fall apart pork belly with comforting rosemary cannellini beans. All of which were faultless.

The flushed cheek pink cumin-y lamb cutlet with smoked garlic and courgette was delicious but, as always, portioned for hobbit. I suppose gnawing bone though is the ultimate compliment to a chef. The courgette flowers stuffed with goats cheese were as hoof-y as you can get, which I love but not for those who prefer a mild cheese taste equivalent to that of a baby bell or cheese triangle.

image from http://www.operatavern.co.uk/

No question, would recommend this place to anyone looking for a treat that was reasonably priced – at just over £20 each for food we were happy-bellied and will be going back for more.

23 Catherine St London WC2B 5JS

Greenberry Cafe, Primrose Hill

This mornings brunch was had at Greenberry Café in Primrose Hill. We hovered outside for a moment before we reached our consensus to eat here rather than an old favourite. The reason for this indecisiveness was, well, due to the fact that it looked a bit random and unfinished from outside aesthetics. This was ultimately forgiven, knowing this place had only been up and running for 6 weeks, and we ventured in.

There was an instant welcoming feeling from the staff as we were shown to our table. Looking at the menu I experienced a wave of confusion, likely due to my Sunday mind frame, but also because Greenberry offers no distinctive fare. Menu options span influence from Japan, Middle East and Europe which I suppose means there is something for everyone. I went for the wild mushroom, roasted onion, goats curd with hemp seed and my fellow diner a sturdier option of the fried breakfast.

As we were waiting for our food, the feeling of this being a new spot continued, with conscientious waiters endearingly asked between themselves where to find things or what accompanied what. Bashfully toned ‘sorry we’re not completely finished’ signs also hung in the bathroom; neither of which mattered given the food that we were served.

The mushroom dish was really great with the earthy mushrooms mixed with sweet caramelised onion and a salt hit of goat’s curd. I did fleetingly forget about the hemp seed which meant I worryingly mistook the first heavy crack of one for my tooth – a hard texture one step too far for the soft dish that didn’t add a whole load of flavour. It would also have been even better with a small herby salad to add a little bit of freshness to the plate.

I was assured that the fried breakfast was all great produce and simply but well done. Looking around, I think that was the underlying theme – all plates looked appetising without any unnecessary fuss. The only thing that we weren’t hugely keen on was the coffee which is blended with a host of varieties but a tad too bitter, maybe one for a more hardened coffee drinker.

The final plus points for Greenberry is the reasonableness, given its location, as we ended up with a £20 bill. When I’m next in the area there will be no hovering around.

101 Regent’s Park Rd  London NW1 8UR

Chin Chin Laboratorists, Camden

It must say something that I travel to Chin Chin Laboratorists in the dead of winter, woolly scarfed and gloved, to get my ice cream fix. I’ve been travelling to Chin Chin’s in Camden Markets for a while now. The chap who started this place is amazingly passionate about what he does and creates out of this world ice cream with a few unassuming electric mixers and huge vat of liquid nitrogen. The science bit: the use of liquid nitrogen as the freezing agent means that the scary sounding -196 degree boiling point enables a speedy freeze and resulting tiny ice crystals, creating a ridiculously smooth texture.

Our first excursion of 2013 has just taken place and, as per usual, it hit the spot. My old faithful is the deliciously rich and velvety valrhona chocolate with fresh raspberry sauce. It takes a will power to refuse that I clearly don’t possess. The creamy blend is poured into said mixer and a good glug of liquid nitrogen then added. The nitrogen fog that subsequently engulfs us makes my fellow ice cream guzzler think of Shakespeare’s three witches cauldron and me think nostalgically of the atmospheric ‘stars in your eyes’ mist, make of that what you will.

In addition to the chocolate, the other staple offering is the vanilla, beyond that it’s anyone’s guess as to the starring weekly specials. This trip they are English trifle and a kir royale sorbet. Luckily, I’m allowed a taster of the latter to try and tempt me away from my constant, it’s delicious with creaminess equal to ice cream itself. The former is ordered by my companion. The ice cream takes on the flavour of the sponge and custard and a frozen berry jelly is added to complete the interpretation. It of course tastes like the best trifle ever made (sorry mum). Previous highlights that I recall fondly include a ‘walnut whip’ concoction made of marshmallow, walnuts, chocolate and the ‘apple and cinnamon doughnut’ creation.

Ice creams are around £4 depending on the gluttony that takes hold with the toppings and sauces on offer. My London ice cream favourite hands down.

49 – 50 camden lock place, NW1 8AF

Duck and Waffle, Bishopsgate

I’d never been to a restaurant in the sky before Duck and Waffle in Heron’s tower. It was odd to go up in a corporate lift with tinkling lift music, reach such a height that your ears pop and arrive on the ‘restaurant’ floors. As we weaved through a couple of other restaurants and bar areas, and up one more flight of stairs for good measure, we arrived at Duck and Waffle – crystal maze challenge complete.

The view was amazing. Even more so for the fact that we were lucky enough to go on one of those now elusive clear sky evenings. We were hungry so went for a good selection of what was on offer. A snack of crispy pig ears came out first in a brown paper bag to shake up the bbq flavour; a gimmick replicating the good old fashioned fun of salt and shake which we all enjoyed.  We then had a to die for rabbit rilette – or pate – with chutney and pistachios with which I was firmly reminded that we had agreed to share. Also devoured was roasted beetroot, goats curd and honey, a tender roasted octopus, chorizo and caper dish, and fresh, sweet, crab on toast.

Next up we had the dish by which the restaurant chose to take its name – duck and waffle. It’s basically the principle of sweet batter pancake and salty bacon and sweet maple, but pimped up to new delectable heights. It was at this point, I had to once more remind myself that I was sharing and refrain from licking crockery.

image from http://duckandwaffle.com/

Once we had finished, we adopted tourist mode and took in the view. Duck and Waffle was delicious and we were comfortably full at around £25 a head for food. I will be returning and not sharing.

Heron Tower, 110 Bishopgate, London EC2N 4AY

Bob Bob Ricard, Soho

Bob Bob Ricard is a place you’d go to for an ‘experience’.  The place serves American/Russian food, mean cocktails, and has decadent décor akin to what I can only imagine Liberace’s dreams were made of. ‘Sumptuous’ is the word Laurence Llewelyn Bowen would use. I was primarily drawn there after a friend waxed lyrical about the simple joys of a designated ‘champagne button’ a small arm stretch away from your plate. I was promised that an effortless press would alert into action one of the many waiters – sashaying over promptly to confirm your champers order and deliver. It is true that simple pleasures please simple minds, and my tiny mind was blown; so much so that an exchange of £12 for the thrill and one glass of the stuff seemed excellent value at the time.

Image from http://bobbobricard.com

 Our arrival was less Hollywood more Holby City as we were ushered past a first aid carry on scene once our coats were taken. In addition to the champagne button, the cubicle we were seated in oddly had a plug socket provided, giving a faint air of an east coast mainline train booth – but nether-the-less catered for one’s power needs.

The menu looked great, but not decidedly Russian in the main course area, maybe that’s where the American comes in. Sadly due to our only early bird booking option of a 5.30pm table we couldn’t stuff our faces, so decided to wait 45mins for the ‘Beef Wellington for two’ to be prepared and skipped starters for cocktails – which I’d happily return for alone in the bar downstairs. The Wellington was presented to us like a fine wine at which we nodded with a non- fained approving ‘ahh’. It was, well, delicious and pink with a buttery pastry case. No soggy bottom in sight. The parsnips and carrots in beef dripping and thyme were equally tasty, as was the mash, although it did arrive unappetisingly in a shallow dish smoothed to a point where we momentarily mistook it for butter.

Image from http://bobbobricard.com

For pudding we opted for the warm chocolate fondant with pistachio ice cream. The fondant was everything expected; a dark chocolate hit, oozey and girdle busting.  We willed the pistachio ice cream to be equally luscious but eventually concluded that the overriding flavour was oddly metallic-esq – a taste similar, I’d assume, to licking a copper pipe.

For my budget, Bob Bob Ricard was a treat at approx £70 per head including drinks. I’d like to go back at a conventional adult hour and tackle the more ‘Russian’ part of the menu (the zakuski plate – including jellied ox tongue, Russian herring looked really interesting). Definitely worth a visit.

1 Upper James Street  Soho, London W1F 9DF