Lilibet’s Restaurant Review

Opulent and impressive, with a side order of slightly camp, this restaurant celebrates the past and feels guaranteed to have a glorious future

An IKEA TV campaign, not so long ago, urged everyone to ‘chuck out their chintz’. It seems that much of it ended up in Lilibet’s. I’ve not seen so much of the stuff since my maiden aunt died at 97, the same day as Elizabeth II, and her house hadn’t changed since the 1940s.

This new restaurant is on the site of the building where Elizabeth (Lillibet) II began her life, although the actual house was demolished years ago.


Internally Russell Sage Studios have created what can be either called a loving homage of interior design trends back then, or an affectionate parody of the same. There are handwoven Gainsborough silks on the walls, and even the sort of fake fireplace once found in stately council homes. Usually accompanied by a car up on bricks outside.

I like it, everything about the place has a wry smile on its face and it’s extremely welcoming, comfortable and, yes, it is actually elegant. There’s nothing else like it in an area that has become very blingy, majorly catering to Russian and Middle Eastern tastes.

It’s not perhaps what you’d expect from Ross Shonhan, once Executive chef at Zuma London, and who created the iconic Bone Daddies ramen bars that for years were the talk of blogland, with people scrambling to get as much oily broth inside themselves as possible..

Here it’s fish, fish  and more fish across a very large space divided into zones. A bar, a marble topped seafood bar, (oysters and caviar feature, of course) a fish grill, and traditional seating to eat whatever you want. These seats are extra plush, and whilst the tables have no tablecloths, they are dark wood and so still feel upper class.

It’s a menu that could have you indecisively flicking back and forth for a month, but we know what we want.


Anchovy éclairs and crab tarts are more nibbles than full on starters, but they are both rather wonderful. I love anchovies, particularly the tinned brown fillets, but they do repel some people. The important thing is to get the best you can find – cheap anchovies don’t have the rich texture and deep umami that’s so present here.

I saw a recipe for these in the The Official Downton Abbey Christmas Cookbook (don’t judge me). So as a savoury they have been around a long time in posh circles. They’re usually made with puff pastry, here though it’s proper choux with the hollow space inside piped with anchovy parfait and on top sharp/sweet sauce. Gone all too quickly, but the memory lingers.

The crab tarts are equally impressive, small works of culinary art, super-fresh sweet crab enlivened by citrus and cosseted in pastry shells that are as delicate as the porcelain  Liz 2 probably had her afternoon tea served in.

Did I mention it’s a big menu? Well we dither over the Ricotta agnolotti,  lobster spaghetti, whole turbot pil pil as choices, but the “fish triptych,” fish served in three different ways – a crudo, a grilled main and a soup  – sounds too unique not to try.


From the fish of the day we have the Sea Bream. This arrives first as crudo – raw – dressed with olive oil, salt, lemon and perhaps vinegar, and liberally scattered with herbs. This really showcases the fish which is firmly ‘cooked’ by the acids to a divine buttery texture. My only caveat being that the fresh chili was rather too fierce at times.

Next from the same fish comes its fillets, cooked in the searing heat of the bespoke wood oven. A perfect piece of fish, the skin crispy and golden, the flesh gorgeously creamy. It is so naturally excellent that the mojo verde sauce is in some ways not needed,  but in other ways I need lots more. And a spoon, too. I could also do with some chips, but then I am common.

Lastly, the remains of the fish are cooked fast in a pressure cooker to create one of the best fish soups either of us have ever tasted, and yes we have been to the South of France.

It’s ladled out tableside, which is posh, and we boat it back with little oohs and aahs. There is some left in the tureen, so rather than summon a footman I top up our bowls myself. Sometimes one simply cannot wait to be served.


I now have to mention the Lobster Mash, after all everybody else has. Firstly it gave me an annoying earworm; I can’t stop hearing ‘Monster Mash’ in my head, and secondly it really is very good. Buttery, creamy, mash anointed with a lobster bisque? How can it fail?

It’s served after the soup, I’d have liked it served with the #2 fish, although that may not have been the best way to showcase either dish. Anyway, it is decadent, depraved and delicious. It’s a must have, a right royal treat.

They do a rather odd dessert here, a Prego sandwich. It’s a garlic steak sandwich, the word ‘prego’ in Portuguese means ‘nail,’ perhaps the nail in your coffin? It is actually a well-loved Portuguese snack that is often eaten after a seafood meal. I don’t really fancy it, but a twist on crepes suzette does sound good.

It arrives rolled up, topped with a sauce of caramelised sugar, orange juice and butter, plus thin candied orange peels, and yes, it is torched (or flambeed as they say in more refined circles) at the table. It’s a blast from the past and a very welcome one.

Lillibet’s really is something special in London; its interiors, its staff, its food all remind me of why I go out to eat in the first place, not to greedily catch a trend but to relax and enjoy time with friends and family in a place that believes in the basics. 

Lillibet’s I am sure will become as much a part of London’s history as Liz 2 was, and hopefully live just as long.

17 Bruton St, London W1J 6QB
lilibetsrestaurant.com

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

Ocean Basket Restaurant Review

There are 200 Ocean Baskets around the world, I set sail for the Kingston outlet

‘It’s kind of like a Harvester, ‘ said a friend who knows the brand,  ‘but one that only serves seafood’.

Some people might say that sounds harsh, snobbish even. I don’t agree, there is a place in this world for family-friendly restaurants that are consistent, well-priced and tasty. Harvester didn’t get where they are today by not knowing their market, and how to satisfy it.


Ocean Basket was founded by two Greek brothers whose family arrived in South Africa in the 1960s. They certainly knew what they were doing as they have successfully reached out around the world, and recently to the UK with a restaurant in exotic Bromley, as well as one here in rather posher Kingston On Thames.

They certainly have a lovely location in Kingston, so close to the river you could probably catch your own fish from one of the sought after balcony tables. The sun is belting down as we sit down, and with the smell of frying seafood coming out of the kitchen we could almost be in Greece.

Ocean Basket says that its buying power means it is able to source great quality, usually frozen, fish from all over the world and keep menu prices down. It also sources locally when it can, as proven by our platter of oysters from the UK.


These were decent examples, quiveringly fresh, plump and served on a bed of ice cubes (although crushed ice would have been more aesthetically appealing, and probably not cost the restaurant any more). Well shucked they had no shell fragments floating about, something I really get annoyed about when it happens in fine-dining restaurants.

We had slices of grilled halloumi alongside. Nicely browned on the outside and a salty compliment to the oysters. If I am being picky I would have liked the slices to have been slightly thicker so that the cheese wasn’t cooked completely through. That’s how I grill halloumi at home, anyway. 

We’ve all had Greek salads in Greece, they can be a mixed bag, or bowl. Here the cucumber dominated the scene backed up with green peppers, tomatoes and some olives, although not enough olives for me, and a good-sized hunk of feta. It was all crispy and refreshing, the dressing perhaps a little underpowered.

Now onto the fish. There’s a hefty selection of dishes, stand -alones and platters.  The restaurant’s deep fryer ‘basket’ seems to do most of the heavy lifting in the kitchen, but grilled fish is offered too. All the dishes have nutritional information, which is handy but you don’t really need to be told not to overdo it on the battered food.


So we had one of the  platters, its arrival drawing envious glances, but at £50 for two people, it’s not expensive for what it is. From left to right we had excellent plump mussels in a lemon garlic sauce, calamari ‘popcorn’ (deep fried squid tentacles, presumably called ‘popcorn’ so as not to frighten kids), wonderfully tender and small grilled calamari (specially sourced apparently), prawns butterflied and grilled, and some Cape Hake which we asked for grilled, not fried, as it seemed a shame to drown such an excellent fish in batter. Cape Hake is sold in M&S, so it’s obviously a good fish.

There was rice, Uncle Ben’s style, but actually perfectly okay, and chips which were fine but we stayed away from so as not to lose any space for the fish. The prawns were very tasty, the butterflying removing the vein and making sure the grill got to kiss all the flesh. A bit of a messy eat, I’d suggest supplying finger bowls on the table because we soon ran out of paper napkins.

As a SA restaurant you’d expect it to have well-priced and good quality wines and it did, a Benguela Cove Sauvignon Blanc served us well.


We were well stuffed after all this, but I still succumbed to the lure of a Dom Pedro, a South African classic. It’s basically a milkshake made with alcohol and is very rich and thick.


So thick that my straw kept getting clogged and I wondered if perhaps a long-handled spoon might have been easier. Still though it was decadently more-ish and obviously a crowd-pleaser.

And that’s Ocean Basket, a crowd-pleaser. It’s not fine dining, and doesn’t pretend to be,  but the fish is all well-sourced and high quality, and there’s so much variety on the menu I can’t imagine anyone would be stuck to find something they fancied to reel in.

Website
52A High Street, Kingston Upon Thames, KT1 1HN


Ocean Basket works alongside WWF SASSI (South African Sustainable Seafood Initiative) and uses global guidelines from the Marine Stewardship Council (MSC)



BOB’s Lobster, London Bridge.

BOB’s Lobster is a quite a catch, super fresh seafood in a modern diner setting and with some very inventive dishes that don’t all involve the lobster.

As I get older I find myself more and more doing that mindless humming thing, not even aware I am doing it, at least until I catch people looking at me with the ‘who’s the loon?’ expression.

I was humming again going into BOB’s Lobster, but this time I was humming the B-52’s classic ‘Rock Lobster’. It was impossible not to. 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

Catching Up With Hastings Fish

Nick heads down to Hastings to do a bit of fishing for Xmas recipes and discover more about fish

Hastings sea front

Storm be a brewing

The wind and rain are lashing the Stade on Hastings’ seafront by the Old Town, with people being almost bowled over as they move between the ancient black net sheds and the spanking new Jerwood art gallery on the beach.

I have my head firmly down and my coat wrapped tight around me, my glasses are so covered in moisture that when I do look up it’s like being in a blurred psychedelic light show. Where am I? I ask in desperation, to no one in particular.

A passer by takes pity and directs me to my destination, the Classroom on the Coast on the Stade. Pushing open the heavy door and sliding inside I’m suddenly out of the elements and I feel as happy as a fisherman who’s managed to get below deck in a Force 10.

Which is apt as there is an old fisherman waiting inside; John ‘Tush’ Hamilton is one of the last of the Hastings fish ‘hawkers’. Continue reading