londonelicious: a london restaurant blog

Guest Blog: Giusto

Giusto
43 Blandford Street
London, W1U 7HF
Tel: 020 7486 7340

Today's guest blog comes from Bombay Beauty. Remember to come back on Tuesday, May 6th to vote for your favorite guest blogger!

Date of last visit: 17 April 2008

The Damage: £18, including a glass of wine.

The Victim: Me, myself, and my lonesome.

The Background: My Italian friend, Marco, had been going on (and on) about how Giusto served really good Italian food, and you know how Italians get when they talk about their food: (they think) they know it all. But my friend Marco is a good type, so I thought I would give it a try.

The Entrance: I've walked by, and past, this place often because it looks deserted or closed. But the trick is that the restaurant is downstairs while upstairs is just a small bar area that is used at lunch for coffee and takeaway but is empty at night. Downstairs I find a largish dining room with people in it – things are looking up. While it's neither cozy nor sleek, there are people here and a wood-fired oven, and that's all right.

The Oven: True Italian pizza is baked in a wood-fired oven. Don't be fooled by substitutes. I've even been to places where they pile logs everywhere to make it look authentic, but when you ask you discover they have an electric oven. This is the real deal – wood!

The Main: I am really in the mood for pizza so I set pretense aside and dive into it. I ask for the Basilico, which is made with plum tomatoes, buffalo mozzarella (again, accept no substitutes, outside Southern Italy, unless they say it's buffalo mozzarella assume it's not), fresh basil, and a bit of tomato sauce. It looks something like this:

It takes exactly 10 minutes for my pizza to arrive. I time them, naturally. In a pizzeria quick service is good. It means that the pizza's crust is thin and that the oven is hot.  My first bite is good – a crisp crust and a good tomato sauce. My second bite is also good, but puzzling: the cheese is delicious, true buffalo mozzarella, but it's cold. I examine the pie more carefully and notice that all the toppings have been placed on the pizza after most of the baking was done – the cheese isn't melted, the plum tomatoes (which are delicious by the way) are still fresh rather than oven roasted, and the basil (fragrant, mmm….) is fresh as the day it was born.

I'm puzzling this through when I notice that my pizza has disappeared – I've eaten it all. Despite what my mind tells me, my palette says it's good.

The bottom line is mixed. Putting the ingredients on after baking just isn't right (and why? did I seem too lonely to wait an extra 2 minutes?), but at the same time the crust and ingredients are great.

The Service: Friendly and efficient.

The Loos: No problems here.

The Verdict: While it may not be grandma's pizza (if your grandmother is Neapolitan), it is all said and done a very fine pizza. I'll be back for more. Also noteworthy – they offer mini-pizzas and panini for lunch. Hot from the oven at £4 each, this seems like a good lunch or shopping-break option if you're in Marylebone.

Thanks to Bombay Beauty for submitting a guest post while I'm taking some time off. Remember to come back on Tuesday, May 6th to vote for your favorite guest blogger!

Guest Blog: Galvin at Windows

Galvin at Windows
22 Park Lane
W1K 1BE
Tel: 020 7208 4021

Guest Review by Douglas of Intoxicating Prose. Check back on Monday, May 6th to vote for your favorite guest blogger.

London looks beautiful from above. More precisely, through immaculate windows, 28 floors up, the Queen’s garden looks green, the main streets are cleared of traffic for the marathon, and staccato spring rainstorms reinforce the cosy isolation. Up here it seems that God sieves through a giant scola pasta rather than weeps on the population.

This is my third visit. The first occured before Galvin took the helm. I was six, staying at the hotel below with my parents. I remember being mesmerised by an aqualine, Russian Princess, shoehorned into a mini skirt, shuffling towards the bar, tightly escorted by her elderly, fattened ‘uncle’. Last year was my second, working as a sommelier at a private gastronomic event for hedge fund managers. I watched the affluently be-suited shun glasses of ’96 Dom Pérignon in favour of ’90 Lafite. Ah, the pain of decisions…

During today’s reconaissance, we sit in soft, capacious seats, strong enough to support Dawn French and bolstered with fussily offered cushions. Beaded flutes of Pommery Springtime Rosé gently land. Soothing. The tiny, explosive bubbles echo the patter on the panes. A helicopter dragging a ‘Flora’ banner whirs by. Tomato and multigrain bread is brought in abundance, warmed just enough to melt the beaten butter, and almost too tasty. In fact we greedily partake of in total three servings, followed by crostini with the starters, snugly embalmed in a linen eiderdown.

The Head Chef is Roux Scholar, André Garret, formerly of The Orrery (where Chris Galvin was mentor). Despite the Gallic name, he comes from Bath. His mother was a fan of pianist, conductor, and composer, André Previn apparently. This André continues to carve his culinary career, admitting cravings for the luminosity a Michelin star will bring (and Windows is on the ‘Rising Star’ scoreboard).

Thankfully the old adage, ‘the better the view, the worse the food’ proves untrue amongst the panorama. In fact, despite arriving via a Top Table offer, the food I tried positively distracted me from the world outside. A trio of lightly cooked Duchy of Cornwall rock oysters with seaweed butter, served on a coarse salt landscape, tantalised, surprisingly an improvement on serving them naked. A simple, fruity butternut bisque arrived in a sauce boat, elegantly decanted around the beach of a ravioli island sporting a parsley palm.

Two glasses of Vouvray followed the Champagne. This distinct, off-dry Loire white from a one horse town with voluminous cellars had a distinct, deep aroma tally of undercooked apple crumble and a taught palate evoking damp cashmere. Curiously, but to my favour, the Sommelier filled our glasses unevenly. The wine list has, expectedly, some unbearably lofty mark-ups, but offers reasonable value around £20-£30, particularly with white bottles. My guess is that most corporate charge-card diners don’t pause for financial concern, patting the vinous celebrities at whatever cost.

For the main courses, I enjoyed hearty, braised lamb shank, which was extroadinarily succulent, the meat meltily flaking into satisfying fronds. I sucked the soft marrow from the protein bagpipes afterwards, feeling illicit, savouring the pleasurable grey goo. It could have been caviar. My companion had “perfect” Pollack fillet, soft, flocculent, in genre fitting somewhere in between haddock and halibut. This was served with very green broccoli florets.

Puddings were artistically crafted, particularly my cool dark chocolate tower with brittle cocoa shard sail and river of pureed pistachio. This was bisected by alcoholic cherry stepping stones. My companion was pampered with a shivering pannacotta with aromatic Earl Grey sorbet and raspberry jam. A huge pot of cleansing fresh mint tea followed, poured through a gimbled strainer from New York which I was very tempted to steal (I have a thing for tea time accoutrements). Then, a silver raft of petits fours, including pulverised Madagascan vanilla truffle. A clear bonbon jar of coconut flavoured marshmallows came in time to sweeten a bill just below £100.

Service, by aesthetically diverse staff, occasionally veers from attentive to obtrusive; in fact we resorted to whispers early on (there is no ambient music, not even a Previn melody). The chairs are unergonomic, being a little low, with high arms. And the décor, whilst smart, could be described as drab, especially the entrance, which feels a stuck in the ‘80’s. The designer obviously has a love of brown.

Overall, however, watching clouds disperse then reappear, then sunshine blink through, Galvin provides an enduring, luxury vantage with really enjoyably edible food.

Many thanks again to Douglas of Intoxicating Prose for providing this guest review while I take some time off. Check back on Tuesday, May 6th to vote for your favorite guest blogger!

Chinese: Four Seasons

Four Seasons
84  Queensway
W2 3RL
Tel: 020 7229 4320

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, April 20, 2008

The Victims: Rutton, Jay, Orvis

The Damage: £20 each

The Background: Running is both a good and a bad thing. It's good, of course, for your cardiovascular system. It's good for losing weight. It's good for increasing endurance.

It's bad, however, in that it creates--for me anyhow--a license to eat.

Meaning, I'm starving.

The Food: Not one but TWO whole ducks. Peking Duck and Crispy Duck. I can't really tell the difference. Shame on me.

Chinese broccoli. I want to eat all of it. I've always had a fondness for broccoli. Egg-fried rice, which I'm not so crazy about normally, but which I polish off like there's no tomorrow once it arrives. It's good. Sticky. Good.

A mysterious beef platter. We order the sizzling kind--you know, the type they bring to the table with a flourish while it's still making noise--but we just get something with beef and green peppers, no sizzle.  It's a little gooey. I prefer the duck pancakes.

All washed down with copious amounts of tea, water, and talk about property (of course) and our investment banking friends and the storm they're weathering.

The Loo: UGGGGHHHH. Plus, the floor outside the loo was coated in duck fat, I swear.

The Verdict: There's just something about that egg-fried rice!

Tea at Yauatcha, Plus Contest Finalists

Firstly, can I tell you the challenges of a keyboard where the letter A sticks? It has affected my blogging mojo, and for that, my dear readers, I apologize.

Secondly, Stacey is getting married next month. In the south of France, no less. So we took her out for tea at Yauatcha, where the macaroons are lovely and the service is a little all over the place. And then we spent 3.5 hours in Selfridges. (I never thought that possible, but pink champagne makes anything possible) And then we went to The Soho Hotel for more champagne. And then somehow, we ended up in Barrio Norte in Islington (the old Warwick). And then I went home.

Yauatcha
15 Broadwick Street
W1F 0DL
020 7494 8888

In other news, my finalists in my "Win Dinner with Krista" contest are...
Douglas from Intoxicating Prose
Bombay Beauty
Jon from oishii oishii

Check back next week to see what they have to offer, and then remember, we'll vote on the best on starting May 6th...

Where else have I been...

Two types of duck at The Four Seasons in Bayswater
The East Room, on multiple ocassions
Kipferl, for linzertorte
Snazz Sichuan for a spicy dinner

Last Chance to Win Michelin-Starred Dinner

This is your last chance to win a Michelin-starred dinner with me! That's right, submit your guest London restaurant review by tonight at midnight Sunday at Noon (London time)! I will pick the finalists by Friday, April 25th and those reviews will run the week of April 28th. E-mail your review to kristainlondon at gmail dot com.

Starting at 8 a.m. on Tuesday, May 6th, I'm going to let you guys vote for your favorite guest review. Voting will be open until Sunday, May 11. The review with the most votes will get dinner with me at a Michelin-starred London restaurant of my choosing. For the absence of doubt, here is the small print:

I'll pick the restaurant. We'll agree on a date. I'll pay for food and service. I will not pay for beverages. ("Beverages" includes bottled water, which I will not pay for because you know I'm against it. Unless it's Belu.) I will pay for your food...not your friend's food, and not your friend's friend's food or the food of anyone else who is not me and not you. Also, this all assumes you eat like a normal person...i.e., that you're not going to order 12 starters and six mains or something.

OK, now that I've got that bit out of the way...
Now personally, I think it's sorta weird if you submit a review that you've already published on your own blog, or that you've published on another Web site. I didn't state this as a rule up-front, so in all fairness, if you've already submitted a review that's run elsewhere, it will be entered into the contest. That being said, I won't accept any other reviews that have already run elsewhere once this post is up and running.

Deadline extended..
I've decided to extend the deadline to noon on Sunday, London time. Submit your London Restaurant Review to me by then, along with a photo of the restaurant and/or food that's less than 60k in size. If you don't know how to resize photos, that's okay...I can do it for you. But it would be great if you could give it a shot.

Thai: Rabieng

Rabieng
143 Upper Street
N1 1QY
Tel: 020 7226 2014

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, April 12

The Victim: Me, myself, and I

The Damage: £10.00

The Background: Today is the Thai New Year. I only know this because I thought about eating at Isarn, but they were closed for the Thai New Year. And I thought this was sad because I had just had a massage at Kobkun and I wish I had known it was the Thai New Year because I would have wished them a Happy New Year. They are the nicest people ever.

So I keep walking to the other Thai place that I know is on Upper Street. And there it is. Not so full. But not so empty either. Rabieng And they're having a special. Two courses for £6.95! Fantastic. I enter and it's so clean and neat and the servers are really sweet and they take my umbrella for me. (My umbrella is HUGE. Something I'm very happy about with all this freaking weather we've been having. HAIL???) There is a little candle on each table, and they bring me my own little pot of jasmine tea.

The Food: I get some dumplings of some sort, which are just okay. (Pork? Seafood? I think they've got everything in there.) I'm slightly suspicious that they came from a big vacuum pack with "Thai Warehouse" or something stamped on it. Better is the Pad Se Eu with Chicken. Is it the best I've had? No, not really. But it's pretty good. And at £6.95 for two courses, I'm super pleased.

The Verdict: I'll be back if I need a casual neighborhood place for lunch or dinner.

***Time is Running Out! Get Your Chance to Win a Michelin-Starred Dinner with Me! Submit Your Guest London Restaurant Review by Friday at 11:59 p.m.***

Indian: Vama

Vama
438 King's Road
SW10 0LJ
Tel: 020 7351 4118

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, April 12, 2008

The Victims: K&A

The Damage: £50 each?

The Background:K & A are leaving me. I'm devastated. There's something nice about having someone (K) around who you've known since you were 18. (A's not so bad either.) They are heading back to New York. Shortly. Like within the next thirty days. This is our first of what will hopefully be many farewell dinners. 

They've picked Vama, a Chelsea Indian restaurant, despite telling me on the phone that they really want some fish and chips. I triumph over London Transport YET AGAIN and figure out how to take the tube to the bus to the restaurant all by myself in my new shoes--gray, patent leather, Mary Janes with a heel. I am trying to save my feet as much as possible. I seriously still do not understand how women walk in this city. I am constantly carrying around "traveling shoes." (Proving, yet again, that you can take the girl out of Long Island, but you can't take the Long Island out of the girl.)

The Food: We are off to a solid start...complimentary bhajis are on the table when I arrive. We get some tikka masala, some spinach and potato thingies that arrive as deep fried fingery looking things (not what I was expecting) and some more bhajis. We're happy, more or less.

The Mains: I order one of their specials, lamb cooked in a spicy spinach sauce. While the spinach sauce is great, the lamb is stringy and old looking. Hmmm. I push it aside. K gets some more tikka masala, which is nice, but my local curry house does it better--and cheaper. A gets a chicken dish whose name escapes me. All in all, it's all "nice." They're nice. It's fine.

The Verdict: Fine. But I probably won't be back.

Pastries: Sweet

Sweet
64 Exmouth Market
EC1R 4QP
Tel: 020 7713 6777

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, 13 April 2008

The Victim: Me, myself, and I

The Damage: £5.40

The Background: Do your brain cells die as you get older? Does stress just zap your memory? All I can tell you is that there is something wrong with my mind. Every weekend, without fail, I wake up and think, "Hmmm...I should go have a coffee somewhere. Read the paper. Catch up on world events." And I think "But where should I go? There's nothing around here. Hmmm...I suppose I'll have to go to Coffee@. But I'm a little tired of their pastries." And then I go to Coffee@ and I have a croissant or something and I think, "Boy, am I tired of these pastries."

But it occured to me this morning lying in bed--as my brain was functioning--that actually, there is a patisserie in Exmouth Market. A good one! Sweet. (Both the exclamation and the shop!) And I went. And one veggie and cheese croissant later (along with a lemon tart for the road) I was very happy.

The Verdict: I'll be back.

P.S. Don't forget...you have until midnight on Friday, April 18th to submit your GUEST LONDON RESTAUARANT REVIEW for my fantastic contest.

If you're a blogger, this is a great way to get some extra traffic to your blog. If you've always wanted to try blogging, this is a nice, no-risk, no commitment sort of way to give it a shot.

E-mail your review to kristainlondon at gmail dot com. 

Japanese: Akari

Akari
196 Essex Rd
N1 8LZ
Tel: 020 7226 9943

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, April 5

The Victims: Gerry, Ben

The Damage: £30 each?

By Way of Background (Not Really): I am the same age as Victoria Beckham. We are 13 days apart. This frightens me. She seems so super-human. I feel old.

I am closing down my Match.com account. My "Thirty There Dates in My Thirty-Third Year" idea didn't get very far. (I got to three, and then gave up.) And I am just so very tired of "I LIKE UR PROFILE." Oh, for a man who can wield a semicolon AND roast a chicken.

My new neighbo(u)r downstairs sings. A lot. Loudly. And plays the keyboard. 80s style. This is getting very annoying. (I had a neighbor in Chicago who sang opera on Sunday afternoons. Now THAT was lovely.)

I don't have a point. Not really. These are just things that are weighing on my mind as of late. Hmmm. Back to Akari.

The Entrance: I've always wanted to go to Akari. It's a Japanese restaurant located in what appears to be a converted pub. So it's a Japanese bar! But no, it's a restaurant! Well, it's more like a restaurant, but the food is more like bar food.

Deep fried bar food served on limp lettuce. We have deep fried oysters. We also have some edamame. And some sashimi...the yellow tail is very much the best. I get some fried pork cutlet and it's nice. But nothing to write home about. A neighboring table gets a long dish of seared tuna that looks lovely so we order the same. It's gross. (It's the sauce that makes it gross.) I am oh so very disappointed.

The Verdict: Eh.

*****Don't Forget: Submit Your Guest Blog by FRIDAY APRIL !* and Get Your Chance to Win Dinner with Me (I'm thinking Michelin Starred...)*****

Tapas: Dehesa

Dehesa
25 Ganton Street
W1F 9BP
Tel: 020 7494 4170

Date of Last Visit: Thursday, April 3, 2008

The Victim: Anonymous

The Damage: £30 each

The Background: Jess is raffling me off. OK, maybe not raffling. But she is accepting applications on my behalf. Anonymous suggests Dehesa, which I'm excited about because Howard, Ben, Antonia and I tried to get in there the other week and were sadly denied. 

The Entrance: Dehesa is small. And it gets crowded later on. But for now, we have two seats at the bar, which is good because we're not surrounded on all sides, like the other seats. And I get to watch the bartenders scrupulously clean all the glasses.

The Food: Now I have to preface this by saying that I am "in training" for the British 10k. Imagine someone who has a pretty healthy appetite to begin with. Now imagine that person running 3 miles three to five times a week. Yeah, I'm hungry. I also made the mistake of eating lunch at around 11:15 and now it's close to 7 p.m. So now I'm STARVING.

Padron peppers. (Excellent.) Marcona almonds. Two of my favorite things. Pork belly (pictured), with a good almost of crispy skin. The pork was better than the beans, which were on the bland side. Grilled artichokes (only okay). Baby squid. (Lovely.) Manchego cheese. (Always nice.) Gnocchi. (Odd.) Rice pudding brulee. (DENSE.) Biscotti. Yes, a lot of food.

Interesting: Anonymous is an Economist, and I forget how much I love economist talk. I talk about my time and aggravation theory. He calls it my implied wage rate. We discuss the ethnic sub-groups of cleaning people. (I am in with the Romanians.) We briefly debate eBay and the efficiency of markets. And we wonder why the U.S. has one of the developed world's highest birthrates, although Americans generally get some of the worst maternity and paternity benefits in the developed world.  Hmm.

The Loos: Spic and span.

The Verdict: Honestly, I thought the food at Dehesa was just okay. The pork belly was the standout for me. And the padron peppers. If I go back, I'd go back for the atmosphere and I'd order differently.

*****Don't Forget: Submit Your Guest Blog and Get Your Chance to Win Dinner with Me*****