Mignonette. Restaurant Review

I’ve always said that if you want a decent French meal in France you should head to England. I was wrong, you should head to Richmond

Yes I know it’s rage baiting to say the French can’t cook anymore, but outside of places like Paris and Lyon standards have gone down. I say that with over twenty years of owning a shack in France and visiting multiple times a year.

Young French people seem to only want pizzas and fast food, perhaps because their parents have forgotten what grandmere taught them and nothing is being passed down. Local restaurants serve steak frites, or a dish that might as well have the supermarket label still attached. And as for the ‘serve yourself’ hors d’oeuvres stations…

I’d heard Mignonette was good, as one would expect from John McClements, a Michelin-starred chef, who runs the bistro with co owner Glen Toromeni, and his son James, but it is better than good.

The parade it sits on is not the nicest, despite being Richmond. An awkward roundabout had me going round twice before I managed to take the right exit and then, by a gift of fate, I found not only a place to park, but one just a few doors down.

We were a bit worried that at 7pm on a Tuesday the place would be empty but not a bit of it. It’s already almost ‘complet’ with more people coming in. Okay, it’s a small place to begin with (30 covers), but it’s good to see such busy-ness.

I like the decor immediately, leather seats and an intimate, friendly atmosphere. I can see the kitchen at the end, which seems no bigger than a wardrobe. I’ve had some of my best meals from such kitchens, ones where chef can reach everything without moving.

I take no pictures, I feel it would be a bit rude to do so. It really isn’t a place to ‘create content’. That said, every plate is gorgeously arranged as some random pictures I obtained from the restaurant testify.

So the menu, so many good things on it and immediately I see rabbit, hare and sweetbreads. Now that’s proper French food.

I start with Orkney scallop, perfectly cooked, which means introduced to the hot plate only enough to lightly caramelise the outside. A miso celeriac puree has a umami led richness that complements the scallop’s sweetness, whilst slivers of kumquat give sharp contrast.

A slice of maple bacon is a bit too chewy, I like my bacon friable. I also like the Sake beurre blanc. There are quite a few Oriental touches on the menu, see next paragraph.

Nothing says France quite like a terrine of foie gras, here the foie part is encased in ‘drunken chicken’, which is chicken poached and then soaked in Shaosing wine. My wife loves it, as well as the lovely duck fat brioche accompaniment. The mini preserved pine cones are something neither of us have ever seen before. Quite charming. Delicious.

Now you may not be a fan of foie gras, even fiercely opposed to it, in which case you probably won’t like what I have next: roasted Limousin sweetbread. This is, in case you don’t know, the culinary name for the thymus or pancreas, typically from a calf.It’s classed as offal.

It is absolutely gorgeous. Smooth and creamy and basted in a buttery caper sauce. A quenelle of perfect pommes puree plus cubes of aniseedy celeriac partner perfectly. I eat it very slowly.

What can you say about Cornish halibut roasted with red prawns and fresh crab crust, sauce bouillabaisse, saffron rouille? I’d eat the printed words. It sounds so good. And it is, P loved the prawns are perfectly plump and soft,  and the halibut a white delight. The bouillabaisse is superbly rich from the slow cooking of fish components, or what you might even call scraps.

And that’s what  I particularly like and admire about the cooking here- no ingredient is wasted. If a dish calls for one part of a vegetable or protein, the unused parts are repurposed into another. This is how a proper chef makes dishes affordable, while still making a profit.

We head into dessert and, whilst I always like the French habit of cheese then dessert, I pass on it  today. Instead I have a tarte tatin made with pears, because it’s a classic. Gloriously sticky caramelised pastry, plus pears that are unctuously soft but also hotter than a care home in Hades. To be fair, the waiter does warn me about that. The cream laced with Calvados helps douse the burn.

Baba a Grand Marnier for P. It’s not rum-laced, obviously, but the waiter brings a bottle of Grand Marnier to liberally soak the ring shaped savarin. The chantilly creme is classic and red fruits cut the sweetness just enough. I get a spoon and help drink the remains.

What a great meal. Classic French cookery done with practiced flair and a keen eye for making the most out of the best ingredients. All well priced too, and apparently even better at lunch.


Allez vite à Richmond sur Thames!

www.mignonettebistro.com

Cô Thành. Review

The  ‘legendary’ street food of The Lunch Lady, Nguyễn Thị Thanh, is to be found in London’s Covent Garden.

Cô Thành in Henrietta Street mimics Vietnam’s street dining culture with everything apparently sourced directly from Vietnam, including hand-painted signs, exposed brick and dark wood.

It’s bright, cheerful and very no nonsense. The seats are a bit hard on the buttocks, but then it’s the kind of place you sit, eat and leave and don’t linger. The food is fast and tasty and from what I could see, very popular with the Vietnamese in London.

We slid onto our seats and took a look at the simple menu – Bánh Mì, Bún and Phở plus sides/starters. If you’re unsure what you’re getting, a QR code  brings up pretty pics of all the dishes.

The difference between  Bún and Phở is that Phở uses bánh phở, which are flat, translucent rice ribbon noodles while Bún uses vermicelli or thicker round noodles. I’m told that in Vietnam Bún is not always as popular as Phở, which tends to be a bit hotter.

I am sure we all know what Bánh Mì are though,  the love children of France and Vietnam, delicious Asian things in a baguette.

The set lunch menu is a choice of Bánh Mì or Bún alongside a side for £20, but we wanted to go a bit deeper than that, so ordered up some ‘starters’. 

Firstly Cánh gà chiên, which French speakers might be a bit worried about, it is in fact beer battered fried chicken wings, roasted peanuts, nước mắm and smoked chilli glaze.This we found a bit odd. Enormous wings wrapped in a very sweet batter that fell off the meat immediately. All the flavour was in the lettuce underneath. We didn’t eat much of it. Not a winner for us.

Much better was Bo Bla Lot – Grilled beef rolled in betel leaf with roasted peanuts, spring onions and nước chấm dipping sauce.This had all the zingy flavours I expected from Vietnamese food, whereas the wings had seemed more Chinese in style. These rolls are very big in Vietnam and it’s easy to see why. Tender meat in that peppery leaf with the sharp fishy dipping sauce going perfectly with it.

We then had a Bun and a Pho. Mine was Bun Mam made with a fermented fish and shrimp paste broth, shrimp, fresh squid, roasted pork belly, aubergine, okra, pineapple, chives, vermicelli. This was excellent with the broth having all the punch you’d expect from pungent shrimp paste, which when fried can clear a room in seconds..

The squid was tender and the pork belly good and crispy on the outside. The lavish chives were Asian, longer and flatter than European, and I really liked the slice of pineapple for its sweet sharpness. There was a bowl of chopped fresh chili on the table, so I recklessly threw a few in, a bit of a mistake as they were a lot hotter than I expected and I was reduced to gasping for air

The Pho was very fine too: a beef bone broth, a beef patty of brisket and chuck, a fritter, spring onions and flat rice noodles. J was unsure how to deal with the patty by using just his chopsticks, and I had no idea either. 

So he put it on a plate, reduced it to pieces and then put it all back in. He said the whole thing was then delicious. Both of us by now were going through napkins like combine harvesters, partly because of the stock splashing about and partly because both dishes gave us runny noses.


Dessert is not always a strong point in Asian cuisine. I quite liked my Iced Vietnamese dark roast coffee, fritters, condensed milk. Very refreshing. J’s was a bit unsure of his omemade banana and coconut ice cream, roasted peanuts (peanuts again!), lime zest, saying it was more banana and cream than ice-cream, but perfectly pleasant all the same.

We enjoyed Cô Thành rather more than we now enjoy the Pho chain. There’s definitely a more authentic feel to the food and the relaxed atmosphere makes it a good choice for a quick lunch or an evening pitstop.

16 Henrietta Street, London, WC2E 8QH [1]

www.cothanhrestaurant.com/london

Viking Feast at The Glyde Inn Review.

Seafood of the finest kind is served at this ancient Irish pub, but horned hats are optional

Looking over my shoulder I can see my fellow viking crew members pulling hard at their oars. Turning to the right I can see the shoreline and our settlement. A quiet voice in my head is telling me the history of the place.

Ten minutes later and I’m back in the pub, readjusting to the world as it is now.

The Glyde Inn, Annagassan County Louth has stood for centuries on the site of what was once a major viking settlement. It was ‘National Irish Pub of the Year’ in 2018 and from the front it seems no more than a small pub in a terraced row of houses, but pass through the cosy 1770s interior and head out back and you come across breathtaking views of both the enormous Dundalk bay and the Mountains of Mourne.

The enterprising owners Paul and Ann O’Neill have built up the business since 1976 and recently created an engrossing VR headset experience to illustrate the village’s viking settlement history, a time when it was Linn Duachaill, a Viking Longphort.  It really is the last thing you’d expect to find in an Irish pub once the evening haunt of C.S Lewis, author of the Narnia tales.

Viking tales aside, I’m here for the beer and the Viking Seafood Feast. These waters produce superb seafood and have done so since the Viking times, one of the reasons they chose to settle here about an hour’s drive from what is now Dublin. After a surely very difficult and perilous journey around Scotland, to find this earthly paradise must have been a relief.

I’m relieved to find it too. While the weather outside is unusually fine for October, a cosy pub is always a pleasure to dive into.

With the VR goggles off it’s time to don beer goggles for a bottle of Linn Duachaill Irish Pale Ale, the house beer of The Glyde Inn and made in small batches for them by the Brehon Brewhouse. Nicely hopped, not like the London hipster pale ales that taste of urinal cakes, it’s a good palate teaser for the first dish- Carlingford oysters from nearby Carlingford.

Superb oysters, screamingly fresh, plump and briny, you’ll be hard pushed to find better. The beer is a perfect pairing.

Next crab legs, again pulled out of the nearby waters. Massive things simply dressed with Irish butter aromatised with lemon. I wield my ‘crackers’ with what I assume is skill,  but manage to explode a leg so that butter, and fragments of crab, go everywhere, some of it on other diners. This being Ireland it’s taken in good spirit.


I spend a happy ten minutes teasing every last piece of the deliciously sweet white meat out of the shells. So simple, so delicious. I drink a glass of Fairy Trees Chardonnay aged in Irish Whiskey Barrels for 3 months with it. The grapes are grown not far away on the banks of the River Dee. Who knew wine was made in Ireland? Not me. The creamy texture and hints of whiskey work well with the crab.

Like a true Viking I plough on. Next up are razor clams, one of the most delicious seafoods there is. Again fished straight from Dundalk bay, cooked they’re served in a garlic, white wine reduction. For anyone that’s not had razor clams, the texture is soft but firm rather like a cooked king prawn. The tip is usually more tender than the base, which is a bit more chewy. Lovely.

And then something new to me, Cloggerhead Black Sole served on the bone. What a fish, the flesh lifts away perfectly, while dripping butter, and soon only a Tom & Jerry skeleton is left. What a London restaurant might charge for such superb fish I can only guess at and it’s academic anyway, it would never taste as good if it had to travel hundreds of miles rather than hundreds of yards.

It comes with Colcannon mash that’s made gloriously green with sea radish that I saw chef foraging earlier from the shoreline. And with that I breathe a deep sigh of happiness and down a Bailey’s before heading off back to modern times.

This really is the kind of seafood meal that would be all over the Sunday magazines if it were in Spain, and yet this kind of excellence is available just next door to Britain.

It’s another excuse to travel to County Louth for a short break of a foodie kind. Skol!


www.theglydeinn.ie

Aer Lingus fly to Dublin with 9 daily flights between London Heathrow and Dublin, Ireland. One-way fares start from £59.99 each way including taxes and charges. For more information visit www.aerlingus.com”

Nick’s visit was facilitated by www.discoverboynevalley.ie



Jeru Restaurant Review

This excellent restaurant was never all at sea, and now that it’s added a choice of quiveringly fresh fish it’s one of London’s best catches

‘After two years in London I’ve developed great relationships with all my suppliers and fish is no exception. That’s why I’ve created Fish Market, to show off and cook the best UK fish’

Jeru’s Executive Chef Roy Ner likes to come out and chat to diners, the chefs in the long open kitchen behind him don’t need standing over, you can see they are all getting the dishes out like a well-oiled machine.

I’m standing by his display of fresh fish and tonight I can see Monkfish, Seabass, Red Snapper Sea Bream, Gurnard and Lemon Sole and Lobster, all fresh, line caught  and sustainable and from boats in Brixham, Peterhead and Fraserburgh. It’s now up to the diner to choose a fish and then how it’s to be cooked  – cured, charcoal grilled, steamed or baked.

We ponder on that for a bit and then decide on shared monkfish, charcoal grilled, and go back to the regular menu for our pre-dishes, one of which has to be the potato bread with truffle honey, chickpea miso butter. We ate this two years ago and I’ve been dying to have it again.

Freshly baked in the wood fired oven that’s by the restaurant entrance, it’s even better than I remember. The 72-hour fermented bread is fluffy, moist and chewy,  the butter decadent and that truffled honey just makes me a bit weepy. It’s so good.

A ‘mezze’ of roasted aubergine and tahini striped with Piquillo peppers and enlivened by a mint dressing is also excellent. Aubergine, particularly the ones we get here in the UK, can be so deadly dull but roast one, particularly in or over charcoal, and it takes on a whole new character. Solid yet buttery and with a smoky aroma against the very sweet peppers and a sesame loaded tahini.

Jerusalem artichokes get a bad rep in the UK. On allotments they take over like weeds, ask me how I know,  they are also an absolute pain to peel and their effects on the digestion are well known, and usually audible, for some hours later. Not everyone knows, by the way, that it’s actually a species of Sunflower.

So full marks to Jeru for making it so tasty, By roasting these hasselback-style (slotted like a toast rack) lots of flavour gets in and each is topped  off with a white anchovy. Celeriac, another vegetable rather ignored in the UK, has been roasted and pureed with tahini with spring onions on top and plenty of olive oil. We love the crunch of the artichoke, the umami of the anchovy and celeriac is always good.

Raw tuna, or tuna tartar if you like, with a fennel salsa, whipped avocado and herbs is another excellent dish, fennel is an unusual choice but a very good one and the tuna is a good chilled temperature, just enough to make it refreshing but not so much as to dull the flavour,

Time for the main attraction, which is going to have to be very good to top what we’ve had so far. The monkfish tail arrives with it main bone removed and laid to the side with heritage tomatoes chopped and mixed with smoked sumac between it and the fish.

And what a lovely piece of fish it is. Whoever first ate Monkfish was very brave because the head looks like something Dr Who would run away from, but the tail is delicious. It used to be called ‘poor man’s lobster’ and I remember my mother warning me off buying cheap breaded scampi,  ‘they use monkfish dear!’. How times change. The smoky tomato is wonderful.

We have an asparagus side dish with it, quite where they get such fine thin asparagus this time of year is a mystery, but who cares? They’re very good.

By now we’re so pooped we could beach ourselves and wait to be pushed back out to sea, but we manage a dessert selection with rather wonderful ‘crackers’ made from white and black sesame seeds – sesame seeds get a lot of love at Jeru – and then we heave off into the night.

We already loved Jeru, this new Fish Market makes it even more of a place to push the boat out.

jeru.co.uk

11 Berkeley Street,

Mayfair,

London,

W1J 8DS

Jamie Oliver Catherine Street Review

Jamie is all over the place, but his restaurants no longer are. I try a recent new one in the company of some actors

To be honest, I am not actually at the same table as the actors, but next door is a Very Well Known TV Actress and an equally Very Well Known TV Chef, plus some other people I vaguely recognise.

As I wait for my wingperson to turn up, while grazing a mix of olives dusted in oregano and  served, rather unusually, on ice, I also try to keep my own cool. Nonetheless when I momentarily glance over She looks up at the same time and our eyes meet. ‘ Big fan’, my eyes say, ‘Oh God, a stalker!’ say hers.

You’d expect to find actors in here for lunch though  as it adjoins the back of the Theatre Royal. A space between the buildings is now roofed over to create a spacious and airy mini dining atrium, so thesps only have to walk a few yards for a meal.



We are eating inside today though, in what was once the ground floor of an office block, not that you’d ever know it after a splendid refurb. The place has a Grand Cafe kind of buzz to it; classy without being snobby.

There are trendy artworks on the wall, classic old photos, unusual lighting, comfy banquettes plus Sade on the sound system. Apart from the latter it could almost be a Jeremy King joint, another restaurateur who has had his ups and downs.

It’s family friendly;  there are kids here and a kids’ menu. The seasonally changing menu itself is a one sided affair, colourful but disposable, it tells diners this is easy-eating. A two- or three-course set menu is available Monday–Saturday from 12–6pm, Sundays offer roasts with all the trimmings. 

Apart from the icy olives there are other nibbles on offer.  Now that S has finally arrived  we try croquettes made with pureed Mrs Kirkham’s Lancashire cheese with leeks, and dobbed on top with pickled walnuts and they are one-bite tasty, the cheese gooey and sharp. Shame they are served in threes though and not twos or fours.

Jamie has said the food’s inspired by what he grew up eating at his parents’ pub, which explains the prawn cocktail on the menu, although it’s a bit more than that – it’s a seafood cocktail with British crab, brown shrimp, prawns, yuzu cucumber, Marie Rose sauce (natch) and focaccia crisps


It’s an impressive dish, the focaccia crisps are large sails powering the dish towards me. The prawns are a bit watery, the rest is good, especially the crab. I’d have liked some more Marie Rose sauce, my mother used to always sink our family Prawn Cocktails in the stuff and I used to also surreptitiously eat it out of the jar.

Mr Forty Minutes Late For Lunch has a Scotch Egg made with Stornoway Black Pudding, a Cacklebean egg and mustard mayo. It’s the sort of thing we ate a lot of in the late 80s and 90s, a Gastropub thing, and he reports it’s fine but not overly exciting. It’s a well-golden egg though and it is cooked perfectly.

The menu is full of Jamie’s other culinary memories and I recognise a few pasta dishes from the old BBC Executive Canteen, better known as the River Café, and some from legendary Fifteen as well. I go for the Dayboat Fish though, which today is Stone Bass, (or ‘Wreckfish’ or ‘Meagre’ ). A fish normally farmed and not caught, it comes swimming in a lake of “Champagne Cream Sauce, Dulse, Royal Kombu, Green Peppercorns, Herb Oil”. 

It’s a chunky fish, not quite as good as Sea Bass but firm and white and generously sized. The sauce is excellent, but it needs a spoon (or even a straw) to eat it. I instead use my ‘Koffman’s fries’ to blot it up. Good fries, but they needed more salt IMHO

Also a day special is a whole split lobster with linguine and tomatoes. A big plateful, it rather intimidates S who finally has to admit defeat trying to eat it all. The pasta has absorbed lots of good juices from the tomato and shellfish, but it also makes it rather heavy going. He doesn’t regret trying though, it was a good lobster.

We’re drinking Pale Ale made by one of Jamie’s ‘mates’ in Walthamstow. Unlike most hipster ales it hasn’t gone overboard with the hops, so it doesn’t taste like drain cleaner. I like it so much I have two.

S is still suffering from lobster overload, so I have dessert alone, a rather nostalgic Jelly & Ice Cream, although this is very grown up jelly. Made with Provence Rosé, it wobbles like Keir Starmer being asked what a woman is, and raspberry and vanilla ice cream and summer berries finish it off. Really enjoyable.

This new Jamie puts bad memories of his Italians to bed, although there is a sense that the kitchen is being run by people doing a professional job and not a passionate one. With a menu that is obliged to cover all bases, from pasta to burgers, seafood to grills, that is perhaps not surprising though.

It’s certainly an excellent space and the food is highly competent, although the prices are somewhat higher than you might expect. The staff are charming, all commiserating with me as I waited and waited and waited for my guest to finally turn up.

And you may even get the chance to freak out a famous actress. What’s not to like?

6 Catherine St Covent Garden London WC2B 5JY
www.jamieolivercatherinest.com

Opening Times: Sunday to Wednesday: 12:00 – 10:30PM Thursday to Saturday: 12:00 – 11:00PM

Telephone: +44 (0) 20 3084 7565

Reservations: reservations@jamieolivercatherinest.com

Tacos and Steaks At Number 8

This special deal is a cracker, but, like the government,  you have to go to the country

On one of the hottest days so far, we get in the car and head out from South London to Sevenoaks. We can’t stand another sticky evening, or standing over a hot stove, so the lure of the country is strong.

It’s an area I know quite well, all my school friends lived out that way, while I lived a bit further in. Driving out this evening  I drove my wife mad as memories came flooding back of sixth form trips to pubs, to teenage parties and the time we rolled an overloaded Bond Bug down a local steep hill and it broke in half lengthways, leaving us all lying in a field wondering what had just happened.

Sevenoaks is a lovely old market town, the buildings well-preserved above the shop plimsoll line. Why do people ruin perfectly good old shops with plate glass? What do they have inside that’s so wonderful that it requires a clear view? I am talking about you, Nationwide.

In the centre, Number 8 is a venerable building from the outside with a charming open space in front. Once perhaps a rich merchant’s house, or a local dignitary’s

Inside it’s modern and chic, it reminds me of a boutique hotel. Everything is sparkling clean, it’s clearly a tightly-run ship with active staff and a warm welcome.

No surprise perhaps as Stuart Gillies who runs this, as well as the excellent Bank House, was CEO of The Gordon Ramsay Group for seven years and before that was chef at Michelin-starred restaurants including Daniel in New York, Hotel Lord Byron in Rome and The Connaught alongside Angela Hartnett.

The menu here looks very interesting, but we’ve come for Taco and Steak night, Two courses £25 per person, every Wednesday.

I like a simple choice and this couldn’t be simpler. Korean BBQ Buttermilk Fried Chicken, Cos Lettuce, Red Chilli Mayo tacos, or Crispy Beef Rib, Cos Lettuce, Grated Cheddar, Pineapple Salsa tacos. We order each.

Very delicious both, the chilli on the chicken is perfectly judged and all the taco shells are good and crunchy, but the crispy beef wins our hearts. It really is excellent and the pineapple salsa inspired.


Now the steak. Opinions vary on best cuts. Fillet I find boring, it’s okay en croute, indeed it’s the only viable option, but it lacks flavour. Rump, sirloin and all the other midfield players are fine, but if I want the back of the net I want onglet.

Or as I am delighted to see here, Picanha. This is a cut from the rump area, in the UK it can be often called Rump Cap. It’s very popular in Brazil and, let’s face it,  the boys from Brazil know their meat.

Also available are Chart Farm 28 Day Matured Rump Steak (£2 Supplement),  6oz Chart Farm 28 Day Matured Sirloin Steak (£3.5 Supplement), and for the veggies, Black Tiger Prawn, Coconut & Potato Curry with Grilled Flatbread. Sauces are supplemental, but why drown your steak?

We both choose Picanha,  and what a great steak it is. It needs only careful cooking to medium rare, and, if the chef is good, it will have been cooked with its fat cap on which will be removed before serving, and it will have had a sprinkle of rock salt. This is all done right, it’s delicious.

Full marks for the chips too, which have bits of potato skin on them so, unless it’s a very determined piece of forgery,  I’d say they`re home made. A mushroom loaded with garlic is enjoyable.

Number 8 has a really excellent wine list by the way. Nothing too expensive but everything’s a bit unusual. They even have some Orange Wines, but I think that particular trend ship sailed some years ago. We had a Crianza, an up-from-basic Rioja, which was perfect,

Dessert is not included in the set price, but we share a Basque cheesecake with Kentish Strawberries and a basil syrup. Again, really good. We loved that basil syrup against the strawberries.

Number 8 has all kinds of meal deals running all week, so it’s well worth keeping an eye on their website. This steak and tacos deal is a very good one.

If you’re local you probably know Number 8. If you’re not, then get in the car. Just be careful not to roll it down the hill.

8 London Rd, Sevenoaks TN13 1AJ

01732 448088

info@no8sevenoaks.com

When the boat comes in. A Taste Of The New(lyn) Cornish Food Scene.

In and around Newlyn, restaurants are cool, creative and it’s now a food destination that has to be tasted to be believed. I take a trip to taste for myself.

Just past Penzance on the south coast of Cornwall, and about as far west as you can get before falling into the sea, sits pocket-sized Newlyn  home to one of the largest fishing fleets in the UK.

Small winding lanes, many impassable for cars, conceal the cutest cottages often still lived in by the fishermen and their families. Up the hill, larger houses enjoy panoramic views of the ever changing coastal comings and goings.


Once Newlyn was only food- famous for its Cornish Pasties, which are still delicious and home made at Aunty May’s, the place to score a proper steak pasty.

These are best eaten straight out of the bag, while sitting on the harbour wall swinging your legs, but the food scene has all changed recently with new and exciting restaurants popping up all the time.


‘It’s different down here,’ says Rich Adams who styles himself owner/sous chef, ‘but these days mostly fish sourcer!’ of Argoe, a restaurant that’s a stylish hut located on the harbourside, cosily nestled among the fishing boats.

‘Not so long ago all the amazing fish and seafood caught here went straight out in lorries to London and beyond, which was such a shame.’ Rich points out. ‘Now there are new restaurants here in the port and all around all doing great things with our local produce. After all, the best place to eat fish is always by the sea!’

Argoe is definitely one of those places. As the afternoon February sun beams down on Rich and his team as they make more simple restaurant tables and chairs (he once trained to be a cabinet maker), go behind the pass to see the most important part of this kitchen, the charcoal grill.

Here they cook very simply, ‘fish, salt, olive oil, top quality charcoal,’ says Rich. It’s cooking in the style of the Basque country, such as you’ll find at places like Elkano near San Sebastian whose grilled turbot ‘rodaballo’  is legendary. At Argoe they use instead Megrim Sole, an ugly local fish underappreciated by most as it’s so cheap. It is, however, very tasty.

That night in Argoe I find the sole is soled out, so instead I have superb locally caught hake three ways, griddled on the coals and served with Kokotxas, the hake’s throat, a gelatinous delicacy in Spain that’s often discarded here. 

Rich’s father runs a big fish wholesaler over the road from Argoe, and Rich tells me he goes over to his father’s place to take the unwanted Kokotxas for the restaurant, often trimming them out himself.

Kokotxas also feature as starters at Argoe, served with chilli and garlic, but we had Braised Cuttlefish and Fried Potatoes, the cuttlefish sweet and meltingly tender in a rich inky sauce.

Wines are natural, chosen by another new Newlyn place, Lovetts,  a tiny wine and coffee bar on Newlyn front ‘The Coombe’, serving a range of superb wines, and, as we found out, some rather good charcuterie as well. It’s a great place to make friends, as you’re so close together it’s impossible not to fall into conversation with other couples.

On ‘The Boat’

We had a couple’s retreat par excellence in Newlyn, The Blue Place, rented via Aspects Holidays, a marvellous converted old workshop a little way up the hill and a few minutes walk from the harbour.


Wooden, and so blue on the outside we could see it from the harbour, this quirky cosy place is cleverly ‘upside down’ so that the lounge and kitchen get the great views, as does the outside deck.

We took to calling it our ‘little boat’, as it felt so much like one, a cosy place to end the day’s exploring with snug underfloor heating and tight insulation. Fast wi-fi, and a TV that was internet enabled, took care of entertainment but really watching the harbour comings and goings was entertainment enough.

Downstairs was a comfortable bedroom with high quality linens, as well as a very smart bathroom with large walk in shower and lots of fluffy towels. Outside a pretty courtyard was just big enough to accomodate an average sized car, a very useful thing as parking in Newlyn is scarce. All in all, it was perfect.

The Blue Place also came with a wonderful welcome hamper of remarkable Cornish produce, including sea salt that we put to good use one night on brilliant takeaway haddock and chips bought from the legendary Lewis’s on the Coombe.

We’d heard from friends in Cornwall of another special place in Newlyn, the Mackerel Sky Cafe. “The queues are enormous, whenever we drive past’ said our friends.’ We don’t know what they’re selling, crack cocaine perhaps?, they joked.

‘The queues do get a  bit long,’ laughs chef Paul when I mention it to him when we meet before the day’s opening,’ we don’t do reservations and, as you can see, it’s a small place’.

It certainly is, although there are outside seats which, as I’d seen the night before, people seem happy to use even on a chilly February evening, the food is that good.

Mackerel Sky was opened in May 2015 by Nina and Jamie MacLean who’d previously wowed locals and tourists alike in Penzance. Like Argoe it keeps it simple, letting the fish do the talking.

‘We don’t have any freezers, only fridges,’ says Paul ‘the boats text us with what they’re coming in with and every day we prep fresh fish for our service 12 am until 9pm. We can also call up fresh fish anytime of day if we’re running low, after all the sheds are just across the road.’

‘If people are waiting too long,  and the queue is down the road, we send them to Lovetts to have a drink or recommend other restaurants in Newlyn, we all help each other out, we’re not rivals.’


‘Our dishes are small plates and the whole experience is not geared to lingering; get in and order a load of dishes, enjoy and move on. We also do takeaway, if you’re staying in Newlyn.’

That night we timed it right to get a seat and soon found ourselves oohing and aahing over plates  of Salt & pepper squid with aioli; tender perfectly fried squid seasoned just right, then some Grilled mackerel, pickled cucumber, horseradish – something of a signature dish – was redolent of the sea.

Finally grilled local white fish, samphire and capers. The fish also turned out to be hake that night, but we weren’t complaining. Hake is such a great fish that for some reason the British fail to appreciate fully. We washed it all down with St Ives Meor, a crisp IPA perfect for fish.

Good news is that Mackerel Sky will be expanding in time for the summer, taking over a small space next to Newlyn Cheese and Charcuterie, a wonderfully compact and aromatic artisan cheese shop with cheeses from all over the west county and France.

We ran out of time and couldn’t eat at The Tolcarne, which at ten years old is one of the more venerable ‘new’ restaurants in Newlyn, and one the most-respected, but I did get to speak to co-chef and owner Ben.

“We had been looking for a pub for some time,” he tells me. “It was a bit of a gamble at the time as Newlyn wasn’t on a ‘food map’ so to speak, but it had this raw appeal and I just thought – that’s where I want to be, I can make it work.”

“Simple dishes, which highlight excellent ingredients – that’s how Matt and I both like to cook. We spend more time removing components from dishes than adding them!”

At The Tolcarne you might find Spiced monkfish, hummus, fine beans, pomegranate molasses, dukkha on the lunch menu, and Hake, pancetta and fagioli bean stew, broad beans, salsa verde, pangrattato on at evening time. Hearty food that flits across borders, but is solidly built on Newlyn produce.

The boats keep coming in. The fish gets served. Newlyn is a food paradise, at the Land’s End.

Of course Newlyn is just the start, check out its antiques scene, the prestigious Newlyn Art Gallery, the remarkable fresh fish and shellfish at Trelawney Fish and Stevensons Fish, and  try the baked potato and crab at the timeless Ship Inn in beautiful, bijou, Mousehole just ten minutes away.

Top tip, take the bus because Mousehole has limited parking and is unsuitable for larger cars. You will lose at least one door mirror. Ask me how I know.

And further afield, and nothing is very far in this part of Cornwall, is Lands End itself, the rugged beauty of Zennor, the sands of Sennen and the remarkable grandeur of St Michael’s Mount clearly visible from Newlyn.


Oh and we have to mention the cafe at The Lizard, the southernmost point of the UK – lovely home made fruit cake, a dollop of clotted cream and a view of the rocks and waves to die for, if you don’t watch your step.

We stayed in one of Aspects Holidays Cottages, a Cornish company which began as a family business in 1989 and still feels like one. Their selection of quirky yet luxurious cottages is one of the best in Cornwall.

Getting The Bee(r)s In With Hiver Beer

Bees make honey, honey makes great beer. Nick Harman goes to meet the buzzing workers in South London and of course taste some of the honey beer.

‘I’ll just make sure the Queen is still in there before I put the frame back in the hive,’ says Barnaby Shaw, Lead director at Bee Urban, as we observe apprehensively from inside our bee suits.

It’s spitting with rain and the bees seem spitting angry too. They need to have their home put back together asap. ‘It’s a bit late in the day to disturb them’, says Barnaby peering closely at the frame, still looking for the Queen who will be marked with a coloured dot. ‘The bees are usually active between about 10am and 4pm and out foraging. Now they need to rest’.

The ones trying to get at my face could certainly give it a rest. Although I’m totally secure behind my spaceman mask, the bees are right up in my grill and while I know they can’t get past the mesh visor, I still feel a bit uneasy. And is that something crawling up my ankle? Continue reading →

Fancy Crab Restaurant Review

92 Wigmore St, London W1U 3RD fancycrab.co.uk

It looks like a Doctor Who style monster in the wild, but once caught and cooked the Red King Crab is one of the finest eating crustaceans there is. Trouble is, it’s not cheap.

Once in Paris I was taken, fatally hungover and feeling like death, to a very expensive and traditional seafood restaurant.

I managed the Lobster Bisque okay, albeit with some heavy pauses, then things took a turn for the worst

The waiters began laying out enough tools around my plate to service a Formula One car, and then came the crab. A whole one, which I was expected to dismantle myself using the tools provided.

Ten seconds after cracking the shell, overcome by nausea I had torn my bib off and was out in the street disgracing myself into a hole dug by the electric company.

The point of this story is to point out, for those people that seem to have been a bit confused, that a King Crab is not the same as a crab and King Crab is the focus of what they serve here.

With a King Crab, you don’t fossick around in the body with surgical tools, carefully avoiding the ‘dead man’s’ fingers, looking for the brown meat. You don’t go near a King Crab’s body at all.

You’re just after the legs, which are enormous, and claws, which aren’t exactly small either. The meat is white and rich and close to lobster in both looks, taste and texture

So, basically don’t expect a Cromer crab shack experience at Fancy Crab, one where you emerge all smelly with crab juice. This is a far more refined experience, as befits the rather opulent and attractive interior.

And it is all about the Red King Crab which comes frozen from the frozen north, but don’t panic. It’s cooked in sea water and then frozen on the boats, so it’s as fresh as can be.

We approached the mains sideways via some shared appetisers. First guacamole served in a large stone mortar with a bowl of tortilla chips and a bottle of Tabasco on the side.

The guaca was made well; a mixture of smooth and chunky just as it should be. It may possibly have been actually made in the mortar, and not with a blender. I do hope so, I’m a romantic.

Popcorn Calamari with homemade tartar sauce had good squid squares, I always find rings a bit naff, as if they had come from a factory, and they are usually rubbery.

These squares were butter soft with a crispy coat, but the tartare sauce was not as gherkiny, capery or indeed as vinegary as it needed to be for contrast and cut through.  Still, not bad by any means.

And so we scuttled onward to mains pausing only to drink very good Broken Dream Stout,  from the Siren Craft Brewery. Absolutely delicious beer and perfect with seafood.

There are various ways to eat Red King Crab here, the purist way is King Crab Legs & Claws on ice or baked over charcoal. It’s priced by weight. It is very expensive.

Millennials though can enjoy king crab in a bun, because they do like things in buns. King Crab Burger made from king crab meat with Belkovich (??) sauce comes in a buttery brioche bun with a crab leg stuck where the cocktail stick should be, making it look very jaunty and, of course, prepped for Instagram.

Or there’s King Crab Leg Gratin – crab meat with béchamel sauce and cheese crust, or Red King Crab Pappardelle using squid ink pasta with a lobster bisque sauce.

We decided to share some pure leg and claw prepped over charcoal, as well as a dish of Singapore Chili Crab with rice.

The pure meat dish was not a lot of crab for the cash, but then again King Crab isn’t exactly scampi so you can’t expect to get a lot.

It was as good as I remember it from eating it in Norway ten years when I had fierce monsters dragged fresh from the Bering Sea.

As I say, it has the texture and some of the appearance of lobster, although it doesn’t get caught in your teeth as much, and is sublimely sweet. The smokiness of the charcoal was a big plus here

A tangle of pickled cabbage served with it was all that was needed; no fries please, this isn’t street food, and we politely offered each other equal shares of leg and claw.

The Singapore Chili Crab was loaded with fresh red chillies, but they turned out to be less Rottweiler and more Poodle in their aggression.

Normally this would have disappointed me, but in fact it was just as well as the crab meat was delicately flavoured and didn’t need to be savaged by chili. Overall it was actually a little too sweet for my taste, and while it didn’t need chili, a bit of salt might have been welcome.

Garlic and lime flavours came through smoothly and spring onions added a bit of fresh crunch. Talking of which, we didn’t come across any crab shell, something that all too often irritates me in crab dishes.

The rice was rather like Japanese sushi rice, round and not long, I would have preferred Thai Jasmine or simple Basmati.

Desserts are fairly standard, but come out looking very pretty. Mine was too sugary but apart from that it was okay. Nothing to crab about.

There aren’t that many places that do King Crab in London and that’s a shame because it is a very special crustacean which for me, and many others, knocks the claws off of lobster.

Here they have got servicing it down to a fine art, and you don’t have to be rich. Set menus and brunches give everyone the chance to get their pincers on some royalty at a decent price.

This review appears on www.foodepedia.co.uk

Of palaces, pastries and pesto

Take a short break in Genova, the city of staircases with a charm uniquely of its own.

Christopher Columbus would not be pleased to see what’s become of the house he was born in. In fact, it’s not actually his original house at all but a reconstruction. The original was shelled half to bits by the French in 1684, and then finished off in 1900 by Genovan town planners.

It seems rather rough on the home of the city’s most famous son, but you soon realise that Genovans are not overtly given to sentiment. It’s a tough and gritty town on the surface, but with a soft centre made of pastries and pesto.

As you fly in, you see how Genova rises steeply from the sea, climbing hand over hand up the Ligurian mountains. At its base is a tangle of alleyways and ancient overlapping buildings that lean together for support, and thankfully leave little space for cars.

The town is hard-working and constantly in motion. It made shiploads of money back in the day from world trade, and the palaces that were built from the profits are grand and numerous. Some are now offices but many are fine museums while others are mutating into cool bars and antique shops.

Before heading off to explore the alleys, I stopped for lunch at Eataly on the docks and a seafood restaurant called Il Marin with fine third-floor views of the town.

Chef uses local produce and food is light and very good for the money. I had Mackerel ‘Giudia Style’, then spaghetti riddled through with local small, pink, tasty squid with spring onions, and followed that with Venchi dark chocolate and pear and coffee.

Heading into the dark mediaeval alleyways after was like entering catacombs. Often the only clues to the presence of the modern world outside being air conditioning units hanging precariously on walls and glimpses of sky far overhead.

Many of the ‘botteghe storiche’ or historic shops here have been trading for 200 years, and include confectioners, tailors, bakeries and butchers. I fired down a fast expresso at a tiny place called Tazze Pazze, said to have the best coffee in Genova and pressed on deeper.

A small ancient tripe shop, Tripperia La Casana, with marble tables seemingly unchanged since forever, had an aroma that had me heading straight back out again. Their tripe stew is very popular, but it’s not for me.


Ah but chocolate, yes please. Viganotti is a tiny shop that has made and sold chocolates since 1886. Peer past the owner’s mother, on stern guard at the old wooden counter, and you can glimpse belt-driven ancient machinery grinding and mixing. Each piece is different, not mass-produced, and delicious.

Not to be missed whenever you see it, and you see it a lot, is the Genovan focaccia. a regional specialty (fugassa in the Ligurian dialect). Thinner than usual focaccia and crispier, Genovans love it so much they will even dip it into their coffee the way we do digestives


Head for the Focacceria San Lorenzo where they sell by weight; the Focaccia di Recco, is the one to definitely try – two very thin layers of dough sandwiching fresh cheese that melts in the fierce oven heat.

It came in handy for energy as I began to labour up the inclines. Puffing up one particularly steep slope, I was overtaken by a young Genovan mother pushing a loaded double pram with one hand while having a phone conversation with the other. She made it look easy, while I stopped and had a conversation with my shoes for a short while.

Luckily the Genovans have, over time, found their ‘vertical city’ a bit challenging as well, and have done something about it with elevators and funiculars.

Next to Genova’s main rail station, you can take the Montegalletto elevator built in 1929 and modernised in 2004, to reach the Castello D’Albertis, a bizarre neo-gothic castle now a museum built by a wealthy 18th Century citizen to show off his collection of world artefacts gathered from his travels.

Coming out of the elevator you immediately feel a fresh breeze and light floods the pretty gardens. No wonder the wealthy lived high up in this Montegalletto district and looked down on the docks below.

Walking back down, I headed for the Via Garibaldi which is not the home of the biscuits, but the site of many grand Rolli palaces and a UNESCO World Heritage Site, to take a peek at some Rubens, Van Dykes and Caravaggios.

Some serious shopping can be had on Via XXV Aprile, via Roma and Galleria Mazzini, all close together, but I had an appointment at another palace, this a charmingly semi-restored one for the Pesto experience at the 16th Century Palazzo Imperiale

Genovans firmly believe their basil is the only one for pesto. The sea air permeates the plant, they say, giving it a unique flavour and every Genovan has a pot or two on their windowsill.

Recipe: pinch out a good handful of leaves, put in a marble pestle and mortar with a sliver of garlic and some salt and pound to an aromatic paste. Then pound in pine nuts, pecorino cheese and Ligurian olive oil. Presto, you have pesto.

Interestingly, the law now allows passengers to take a 500-gram jar, or two 250-gram jars, in hand luggage when flying out of Genoa. They must be flying directly from Genoa though, and the pesto must be from Genoa.

I ate my pesto on some focaccia, washing it down with clean, sharp, Vermentino one of Liguria’s most famous white wines.

Downstairs I quickly checked out a seriously Hoxton-vibe cocktail bar Les Rouges,  set in the elegantly decaying grandeur of a suite of what were once the frescoed family rooms. Definitely a place to come back to in the evening.

Of course, Genova has an historic food market, and what a market it is. The Mercato Orientale is not an oriental market, it means East in Italian, but one crammed with the freshest produce of Italy and of course bushels of fresh basil.

Soon you’ll be able to satisfy your aroused hunger pangs there too as the centre is being converted to a kind of food court, where around 14 restaurants will be cooking up a range of dishes from Michelin to street style.

To eat up the rest of the afternoon I headed out of town to Boccadasse a short ride away. It is picture perfect, even on this rather stormy day, and in fact all the better for being out of season as you get a true feel for the place wandering its now empty alleys.

Peering into Ittiturismo Boccadasse a seafood restaurant on the beach, I could see Italian families crammed shoulder to shoulder throwing down the specials caught that morning locally and written up on a blackboard. Prices were a lot cheaper than Portofino up the road and the food looked fresh, rustic and honest.

I’d been told Le Rune was a good restaurant for an evening meal. Like so many places in Genova it was on multiple confusing levels and seemed to wander from building to building. Clambering to the highest level I was surprised to find I was actually on the same level as another street.

Food was excellent, deceptively simple but based on seasonal vegetables and a deft hand with classics such as spaghetti vongole, the shellfish sweet and generous.

Next day was a time for checking out Genova’s other attractions, such as the famous aquarium, the Galata Museo del Mare and Palazzo Ducale which houses some of the city’s most important artworks.

But the alleys drew me back for a poke around classic tailors, for glimpses into carnal butchers and blissful bakers and to buy a great big gelato from the famous Cremeria Buonafede in Via Luccoli.

I did eye up the “panna montata” (whipped cream) but you have to draw the line somewhere even in Genova. Maybe next weekend.

Genova Facts

Thanks to @GenovaEventi and @genovamorethanthis  the Municipality of Genoa, the Chamber of Commerce Genova and the Genoa Tourist Offices www.visitgenoa.it

Get there:

BA (ba.com) flies from London Gatwick to Genoa with return flights starting from £86.72 including all taxes, charges and one hold bag.

Stay:

Hotel de Ville Down on the front. Comfort rooms start from 143 Euros per room per night based on two sharing and including breakfast and city tax

hoteldeville.it/en/

Hotel Bristol Palace A grand old style hotel in town by the railway station. Classic double rooms start at 204 Euros per room per night based on two sharing and including breakfast and city tax

www.hotelbristolpalace.it/en

Hotel Valery A boutique guest house located inside Palazzo Montanaro. Double rooms start from 78 Euros per room per night based on two sharing and including breakfast.

www.valeryguesthouse.com