Hing Kee: Typhoon Shelter Crab

I really think you need local knowledge when looking for places to eat in Asia so I'm here to give you some. Hing Kee in Hong Kong (has quite a ring to it dontcha think?) is one of the best restaurants that you probably don't know about. I'm not a HK local but I tapped into the taste buds of the best there when I had a short stopover en route to Japan on a recent holiday. I came across Hing Kee via a HK-based Instagrammer that I follow (hey Little Meg!) who went there with some friends and had what looked like an incredible meal. I saw some pics of an amazing crab dish that just screamed, "eat me"! It's really my kind of food - hearty Cantonese with big flavours that really leave an impression (and I'm not just talking about the garlic with that crab). Sensing my enthusiasm, Little Meg reserved us a table and even ordered the meal in advance and I'm eternally grateful since Hing Kee is definitely not geared for tourists.

It's on the first floor of a building on Nathan Road with little signage, up a small rickety elevator. From the street, you would easily walk past and never know what you're missing, although you might be diverted by the popular purveyor of HK-style waffles (a perfect dessert!) just outside. Out of the elevator, you're likely to be assaulted (not literally of course) by a throng of people jostling for room in the small vestibule which fronts the restaurant.

King Kee: poached squid (L), roast duck soup with hand cut noodles (R)

I flagged down a waitress and tried to explain that I had a reservation but let's just say that the service is somewhat...curt. There's not a lot of English spoken, but I understood that I should wait with the others even though we had a reservation. It seems like you put your name on a waiting list and hope for the best. We waited half an hour, although I flagged down the woman who looked like she was in charge of the not-seemingly-co-ordinated chaos to make sure we weren't forgotten.

Hing Kee: steamed jumbo razor clams

We weren't and all was forgotten once the food arrived. If you don't have a Chinese speaking friend kind enough to order for you, most of the menu items you probably want to eat are pictured on the walls (sans price though) or on the paper place mat on the table. I also find pointing at other tables a good way of ordering. This is Hong Kong after all, and a bit of looking about to see what's good is expected. I'd suggest agreeing a price for the seafood before you order though, to avoid any nasty surprises when it comes to paying the bill.

Hing Kee: the most delicious clams with fermented black beans

We started with a flurry of small dishes - some poached cuttlefish, which was a little crunchy, along with some stir fried gai lan and a small plate of nuts to pick at. Then came the first stop-in-the-tracks moment with the roast duck soup. The broth was pure and clean, the duck rich and smokey and the hand cut noodles were slippery and delicious. These noodles. Wow. I just wanted a bigger bowl to bathe in the flavours.

Hing Kee: Typhoon Shelter Crab

Two steamed jumbo razor clams followed and were slipped from their shells into our bowls quicker than it took me to photograph them. They were prepared with fried garlic and vermicelli noodles and coated in a slurpable soy dressing. The next dish of sweet, fresh clams stir fried with chilli and fermented black bean sauce was sensational. We basically licked every shell clean, even the empty ones.

Then the highlight of the meal came with the Typhoon Sheltering Crab. The sandy-looking goodness surrounding the crab is primarily a mix of fried garlic and black beans, which were clumpy in texture, but incredibly delicious. As with the clams, there was a pleasant chilli heat to this dish. The crab claws were hiding beneath the mound of fried garlic and black bean. Although the claws were cracked open allowing the flavours to penetrate the sweet meat, the shell on the smaller legs were tender enough to bite through and suck out the meat. This is definitely finger food, so take advantage of the boxes of tissues under the table.

All up, the meal cost HKD983 (which is about £75) for two including the charge for tea. Of course you can eat cheaper than that in HK, but for the quality and freshness of the food, plus the experience, you would be hard pressed to beat it.

The only signage on the street directing you to Hing Kee

Shoraian yudofu

If you're visiting Kyoto (and you really must), then Arashiyama just west of the city should also be on your itinerary. The setting by the Hozu River is tranquil once you get away from the busy, and a bit touristy, main street, even in the midst of the masses around cherry blossom season. The world famous Bamboo Forest casting its haunting green glow into the sky is there, along with the stunningly serene Tenryuji Temple. You might know that Kyoto has a reputation for some of the finest tofu in Japan, and hey presto, Arashiyama can help you out there too. Shoraian (also Syourian), nestled on the side of a mountain a short walk from the main street, specialises in tofu but it's not vegetarian. The location, food and service at Shoraian contributed to one of the most memorable meals of my trip to Kyoto.

I had read a few blog posts before getting to Kyoto which warned that Shoraian is a hard place to find, so I left plenty of time to get there. Ignore the other posts because it was a cinch, really. We caught a bus from central Kyoto (from Maruto-machi dori at the bottom of the Imperial Palace gardens where we spent the morning) right to Arashiyama Station. It only took around 35 minutes and cost about Y150. With Arashiyama Station to your back, walk left down to the river where you hang a right and walk along the water's edge until you can't walk any further. It'll take 10 or 15 minutes considering you'll want to take some photos of the boats on the gorgeous jade green waters and the colourful trees. You'll eventually come to some roughly cut stone stairs heading up the mountain on your right hand side and then the sign, in Japanese, which points along the stone path towards the restaurant on your left.

Arashiyama scenes and the entrance to Shoraian

If you do arrive early though, follow the sign up the hill to a beautiful lookout which has a view up the river and out over the mountains. On a sunny day it's stunning. Booking a table at Shoraian can be a bit of a challenge (the website has no English option and the menu has to be pre-ordered), but with the help of our hotel concierge we managed to get a Thursday lunchtime reservation and chose the Y5,800 menu which came to 11 courses. Including tax and service (sometimes excluded from the advertised menu price) and tea, the meal for two came to Y12,528 (£75 or so). For the entire experience, I consider it good value for money.

Shoraian: from top left Assorted specialties, Yuba, Layered yuba with wasabi, Tofu and burdock

Our meal started with a palate cleanser of sorts - a scoop of chilled silky smooth tofu topped with a goji berry and a sprinkling of salt washed down with a glass of crisp plum wine. On the hot day that we spent in Arashiyama it was a brilliant beginning. A large plate of assorted specialties followed and focused on seasonal mouthfuls like a squishy firefly squid, two gorgeously tender bamboo shoot preparations, and a "maki" of salmon wrapped around daikon and mustard with a shiso wrap. Less successful was a piece of grilled fish, which was overcooked and dry.

The proprietor of Shoraian is an accomplished calligraphist and we were presented with a postcard of one of her recent works, which was then reflected in the playful dish resembling the cherry blossom tree. The fluffy tofu blossoms were ethereal and light, while the slightly crunchy burdock root trunk had hints of soy and vinegar. The second dish in this course was a fantastic layered yuba preparation dressed with a light soy and topped with some grated wasabi.

Shoraian: Yudofu preparation

Next came the yudofu - blocks of silken tofu were simmered for three or four minutes in a pure kombu-spiked broth to warm through before we spooned them into our bowls. To this we added flavourings like spring onion or a scoop of a spicy and numbing pepper preparation (see first picture in this post). With the Y5,800 menu you can order a refill of the tofu, which, of course, we did. I love the simplicity of yudofu, since it lets the quality of good tofu shine. I had a very enjoyable tofu meal in Tokyo on an earlier visit to Japan, but I think this simple yudofu was better.

Shoraian: the wonderful tofu gratin with its hidden gems and the fragrant toyuba tempura course

We moved onto "Toyuba tempura" with crunchy deep fried yuba and a terrific preparation of ebi sakura - the baby shrimps in season at this time of year - cradled on a shiso leaf. What a great mouthful of sweet shrimp and fragrant shiso onto which we sprinkled matcha salt. Tofu gratin sounds crazy, but the preparation was quite incredible. The small ramekin hid treats like firefly squid and a block of namafu, which is used a lot in Buddhist vegetarian cooking. A few chunks of daikon and some aubergine were also hiding in there. The tofu itself was gooey and rich, like a warm hug on a cold day.

Shoraian: Grilled wagyu, Agedashi tofu, rice with fragrant peas and fried baby fish

So far, so full, but there were a few more courses to come. The menu we chose came with a meat dish. Grilled to medium perfection, the slightly fatty wagyu was deliciously tender. Under the mound of meat, which was topped with grilled spring onions, was some grilled aubergine. There was a wasabi and soy dressing to go with this simple dish. A perfect example of agedashi tofu followed. The fried tofu was incredibly delicate, barely holding together, and came in a slightly viscous sauce. Finally, the rice course arrived. We topped the rice, smelling of fragrant fresh peas, with the small bowl of fried baby fish. Pickles included some spicy turnips.

Shoraian: desserts were tofu ice cream in a caramel sauce and a rose bavarois

Before dessert, we rested for a bit with a glass of hojicha and enjoyed the view from our seat by the window looking out at the trees and river. The sweet finale was thankfully small and light. I chose the tofu ice cream in a light caramel syrup, which was topped with a square of mochi. Mr B went with the rose bavarois, which was light as air. I preferred the refreshing ice cream to the fruity bavarois though.

We were the only western tourists at Shoraian during the meal but the staff were welcoming and spoke enough English for us to understand each course. The restaurant itself is only small, with three tables arranged by the window, and a larger one that was occupied by eight elderly Japanese. They had supported seating instead of the tatami mats that we made ourselves comfortable on for the two hour meal.

Arashiyama: Tenryuji Temple and gardens

I would go back to Shoraian in a flash and suggest that it's a must for anyone visiting Kyoto who is looking for something a little different from the city. As I mentioned at the start of this post, Arashiyama is famous for the bamboo forest (think House of Flying Daggers) and the stunning gardens of the Tenryuji Temple. I was struck by the Zen gardens in many of the Buddhist temples I visited in Kyoto. It was a beautiful setting to gaze on the water and contemplate the unforgettable meal at Shoraian.

The towering Bamboo Forest in Arashiyama

Nezameya - grilled eel specialist near Fushimi Inari Shrine

The Fushimi Inari shrine is one of the most iconic images of Kyoto. Row after row of vermillion Torii, tightly packed and stretching up Mount Inari draw the tourist crowds for good reason. It's a must see and was one of the reasons why I planned a visit to Kyoto in the first place. It's possible to leave the crowds behind you if you wind your way further and further up the sacred mountain but it's not an easy climb, and on a warm day make sure you take something to drink. One of the benefits of climbing the stairs up the mountain is that you'll work up quite an appetite. Walking to the shrine from Inari train station, you'll pass a number of tempting restaurants but the one that caught my eye was Nezameya - the smell and smoke from the long fillets of eel being grilled on the street drew me over.

The Shrine itself, established in the 8th century, is dedicated to the God of rice and sake called Inari and is the most important shrine in Japan to this God. You'll see lots of statues of foxesscattered around the mountain which are thought of Inari's messenger. The foxes generally carry a small key in their mouths which signifies access to stored rice and other grains. Even without understanding the intricacies to the background of the shrine, it's an impressive place to wander around.

Fushimi Inari: some playful statues

The thousands of torii are donated by various businesses or organisations and their names are engraved in black on the back of each gate. It's a visual feast climbing the mountain which is punctuated by a number of small places to worship or to grab a bite to eat. The colours change depending on the concentration of torii and the surrounding trees. We visited mid morning, when the lower gates were heaving with the tour bus crowds, but persist onwards and you'll be rewarded with a view over Kyoto around half way up and relative serenity from the thinner crowds.

The stunning Fushimi Inari torii

Making your way back down the mountain, you'll probably still be thinking about the grilled eel that you passed on your way in, but have a look at the stalls selling food just outside the grounds too. We picked up some fish-shaped taiyaki filled with custard fresh off the presses, since the line for the takoyaki man looked a bit too long and my appetite at the time was, well, insatiable. At Nezameya we were shown to an upstairs room which was split into tatami mats on the left and small tables on the right.

Nezameya: (clockwise) Juicy freshly grilled eel, unagi-don, grilled quails, taiyaki

I ordered an excellent unagi-don set, which showed the skill you'd expect from a restaurant with more than 400 years of history (it was established in 1592). The eel was smokey and delicious with the right amount of fattiness which was soaked up by the rice. Each mouthful happily melted away in my mouth. The meal came with pickles and a soup which cleared the lingering unagi flavour. It wasn't exactly cheap at around Y1,700 given the two small pieces of eel, but I enjoyed it. Mr B ordered the oyakodon - chicken and egg on rice - but wasn't that impressed. We also chose a side of freshly grilled quail, but it was a bit chewy. Conclusion: stick to what Nezameya seems to do best - the delicious eel.

Fushimi Inari gates, cherry blossoms on Mount Inari and a shrine entrance

Barrafina Adelaide St: instant classic Bocadillo de Calamar

You've never really needed me to tell you to go to Barrafina have you? It's a given. When it opened on Frith St it was an instant classic. On one of my visits, Keira Knightley was in there chowing down on quail. Who'd of thunk it eh? She eats. Clearly then, that should be recommendation enough - if it's good enough for someone who probably only eats a meal a week, then it's definitely good enough for those of us who aren't perpetually hungry. The only problem with Barrafina is that it became a victim of its own success. I've seen people queue before it even opened just to score one of the stools, meaning my visits became more sporadic. I'm not good with paramilitary planning when it comes to food. Joyfully, they've decided to share the Barrafina love and open a second location, which miraculously, improves on the experience at the big sister.

The new space sits on the edge of Covent Garden up the road from Terroirs and across the street from Les Deux Salons. Happily it's also opposite the lovely pub The Harp (where they happen to serve real ales and bangin bangers - I mention it only for future reference since you're here for Spanish food). The area is now quite the destination rather than just somewhere you pay a cursory glance to as you leg it down to Charing Cross Station for that last train. You'd never be able to tell there was a semi-dodgy gay bar on the site for a number of years. Kudos to the designers for remodelling the space into something that feels airy, spacious and light, which is something that can't be said for the original Barrafina if you're wedged in next to the toilets with a hungry queue behind you.

Bustling Barrafina Covent Garden: jamon and the seafood and vegetable specials

Having just opened to rave reviews, I arrived just after opening time at 5pm and within half an hour all stools were taken. If you do arrive when the stools are full, your name will be written on a mirror with the time that you arrived and an approximate waiting time - it could be 30mins or it could be an hour. The queue is expertly managed by the guy who had that patience-stretching function at the Frith Street location. On the service front, I can only say that it shines - friendly, knowledgeable, unobtrusive. The procession of dishes are timed so that you never wait too long or have too many in front of you.

Barrafina Covent Garden: oysters ceviche

So to the food. You'll notice that the menu is mostly different to the one at Frith St. The larger space at Adelaide St allows room for a coal-fired Josper Grill and much of the menu is touched by the smokey oven. Toast with alioli (£3.00) is mandatory with a cold glass of Estrella. The crispy oyster ceviche (£3.80) is not really ceviche in the traditional sense (and comes under the Frituras section of the menu) but has a light tempura batter and is served with a refreshing clean dressing. It's a delicious amuse bouche.

Barrafina Covent Garden: grilled asparagus with romesco sauce, grilled turbot, prawn and mushroom tortilla

They've created a dish that will probably never leave the menu in the Bocadillo de Calamar Encebollado (picture at top, £7.50). I love anything stuffed into bread, and the crusty bun here is layered with an onion confit and topped with squid that has been grilled on the plancha before being finished off in the Josper. It's got maximum texture and flavour for such a small bite. 

I think Barrafina create a better tortilla than most places in Spain and the versions at the Covent Garden location differ to those at Frith St. The tortilla with prawns, garlic and mushrooms (£7) gives the one with prawns and piquillo peppers at Frith St a run for its money. The perfect construction shows in the set egg shell while the interior oozes with flavour. One of the daily specials was turbot cooked in the Josper with a coating of fennel-spiked breadcrumbs. We ordered a quarter (£28) and were presented with meaty, juicy flesh which easily flaked from the bones. The crumbs and judicious seasoning lifted each mouthful.

Another special we picked was the thick-stemmed asparagus (£6.80) simply grilled in the Josper and served on a romesco sauce with plate-licking depth. The asparagus was topped with shavings of manchego cheese which melted deliciously over the dish.

Barrafina Covent Garden: chicken wings with mojo picon sauce

The chicken wings (£6.50) at Barrafina are so extraordinary they should be served with a 70s-style finger bowl because you'll be picking them up and sucking the bones. Once again touched by the Josper, the wings are juicy on their own but when coated with a mojo picon sauce - think tomato, smokey paprika, fennel seeds, chilli and sherry vinegar - you're launched into finger lickin' territory.

I had one of the most enjoyable flans on holiday in Menorca recently and I thought it would never be bettered, but Barrafina once again proved me wrong. This wobbly specimen (£6.50) will invoke groans of Meg Ryan proportions. The caramel was toffee-sticky with a sweet smokiness that I love. There was a mild coffee kick in there too. I'm likely to order this dessert every time I visit. I had a glass of semi sweet Alameda sherry (£5.50) with it and think it matched perfectly. Mr B went with some simple refreshing summer berries (£6.80).

Barrafina Covent Garden: the best flan you'll eat in London

All up, the bill came to £112 but you could easily get away for under £100 since the turbot came to £28 for the portion we had. We also had three glasses of wine (a great Verdejo at £5 a glass and the sherry I mentioned) and a beer (£4.50). It's not cheap, but I don't begrudge paying for quality ingredients that are expertly handled. God knows I've paid more for less satisfying meals in London.

You know what? I'm fed up to the eyeballs with London's restaurants churning out pimped up dude food or poor homages to Americana. Frankly you can shove your "guilty pleasures" up your wazoo. That's why Barrafina Covent Garden is a breath of fresh air. Yeah I know, it's not breaking new ground, but rather it builds on the foundations of what I thought was an already close to perfect experience. Everything from the food to the service to the buzzing atmosphere meshes together beautifully to make eating at the new Barrafina a joy. I want to be here every day.

Barrafina Covent Garden: summer berries

Ippudo ramen, Kyoto

I don't know about you but I reckon certain types of noodles have personalities. On my scale, soba is the introverted quiet one in the corner of a crowded room having a peaceful conversation, while in the middle of the party, ripping off its shirt, chugging beers and generally in everyone's face is ramen. Subtle couldn't be further from the truth. Udon is somewhere between these two extremes with a generally mellow vibe but is quite open to being led astray. Although I lean toward soba and udon most of the time, I was so excited to be in Kyoto that our first meal there really had to be a steaming bowl of ramen from Ippudo. On other days I enjoyed an excellent cleansing soba in the terrific machi-ya of Misako-an and a stunning udon at Omen, a short stray from the Philosopher's Path on the way to the Silver Pavillion. All come highly recommended on any trip to Kyoto.

Ippudo - ramen
If you know noodles, you don't need me to explain Ippudo's fame - it has locations spread from NYC to Sydney. It opened in 1985 in Fukuoka and has gone on to conquer the world except, oddly enough, London. Word on the street is that it's finally planning to wipe the floor with the current crop of London pretenders in the near future. Ippudo's Kyoto location is a short walk from the end of the Nishiki market. We waited a brief time with a mix of tourists and locals before sharing a bench, ordering and tucking in. 

Ippudo ramen Kyoto:Akamura, Shiromaru, gyoza and self help condiments

The menu selection is fairly brief with just four ramen variations to choose from and a couple of starters. The gyoza were terrific bite size mouthfuls served with a punchy little smudge of chilli sauce which I wanted more of. I ordered the Akamura special which was nose-runningly spicy and Dracula-warding with its garlicky oomph. Layered with charshu, three types of seaweed, bean sprouts, tomago and black fungus, it was a brilliant way to stave off jet lag. Mr B tucked into the classic hakata-style Shiromaru Special - the original milky tonkotsu broth with similar toppings to the Akamura bar the garlic - and slurped his bowl clean.

The menu is in English and the staff are friendly, efficient and also speak English. True to its noodle personality, Ippudo is open late.

Misoka-an Kawamichi-ya - soba
A little tip about the soba specialists in Kyoto is that they close early. I planned to try Daikoku-ya, but it was closing up at 8.30pm when I dropped in despite being smack in the middle of the Pontocho entertainment district (Diane Durston's Old Kyoto book lists it as open until 11pm, but it's not). I guess it reflects that shy, retiring noodle personality I referred to.

Misoka-an Kawamichi-ya - soba specialist Kyoto in a beautiful machiya

The one soba purveyor that I managed to try in Kyoto was Misoka-an and it's a must visit just to check out the building. I visited mainly due to reading about it in Old Kyoto which chronicles Kyoto's slowly fading machiyas or the traditional wooden stores used by the myriad merchants throughout the city. We sat at the back of the building which has stone floors, shoji screens, lots of foliage and an open ceiling in parts. It's a wonderfully atmospheric building.

Misoka-an: Shippoku soba noodles, soba-maki

We decided to start with the peculiar maki rolls filled with soba noodles. They weren't an instantly likeable concoction to be honest - cold noodles wrapped in nori - but interesting to try nonetheless. As for the noodles, I picked the Shippoku soba. The small bowl was filled with yuba, shinjo (a fish paste), spinach, boiled quail eggs and some mushrooms. These are clean, bright but warming flavours.

Omen - udon
We missed the peak of cherry blossom season by about a week, but weren't too disappointed since the previous year we experienced the full blossoming in Tokyo. The Philosopher's Path is meant to be a stunning, if crowded, stroll at the peak of the season. We saw a few straggling trees with blossoms on the turn when we walked the stretch, but I was more looking forward to the udon noodles than the flowers.

Omen udon: seasonal special udon, Nadai udon, sake, pickles.

A short meander from the path will bring you to Omen. As you enter, there's a large tatami section to the right (which rapidly filled up with ravenous school kids) although we headed for the bar where one of the staff was sculpting small mountains from the vat of pickles. It's definitely got an old school vibe to it. I ordered the seasonal special udon called Wild Plant and Sakura Shrimp Noodle Soup for Y1,300 (£7.50 or so). Mr B took the house special noodles, Nadai Omen, served cold since it was a warm day.

My beautifully balanced broth came with all the fantastic spring vegetables that we saw in the various markets and on menus that week like shredded burdock and bamboo. The sakura ebi, baby shrimp, were flash fried and added to the broth along with spring onions and small sansho fronds with their peppery numbing impact. The noodles, of course, were excellent - firm yet bouncy and elastic without being chewy.

Omen: Kyoto's best udon noodles

Mr B raved about his set. The cold noodles could be dipped into the soup or sprinkled with sesame seeds. The meal was made complete with an excellent pickle selection. For Y1,150 (not even £7) it was a bargain. Omen is run by third generation noodle makers and the attention to detail shows in each bite. We left hugely satiated with enough ballast to battle the thickening crowd on the approach to the Silver Pavilion.

Kyoto's Silver Pavilion. Serenity now.

Crocker's Folly tavern

Recently opened Crocker's Folly isn't exactly the new kid on the block - the building dates back to the late 1800s - but it certainly feels like it. It has been empty for an age and more recently boarded up while undergoing a loving and painstaking renovation which has restored the venue to glory. As you'd expect from the Maroush Group, purveyors of (good) Lebanese food up and down Edgware Road and pockets further afield, there is an element of bling in details like the impossibly-light chandelier and the well-buffed marble that greets you at every turn. It all has a shiny new feel to it. The food is polished as well, with the menu devised by a talented chef who has worked in some serious kitchens like Pollen St Social and noma. But the investment in the rooms and the food comes at a cost, with prices that I consider punchy for a neighbourhood spot. So, is it all fur coat and no knickers?

I visited for lunch on the Sunday after Crocker's official opening. I'd been keeping an eye on the place for a while since it's in my neck of the woods (although I live on the other side of the Edgware Rd tracks), and the teaser shots of the interior were swoon-worthy. Ahead of the opening, I saw a few pics on Instagram of the soft launch to whet the appetite too. But despite being "open", the menu was still the limited soft launch one. A fuller offering, including bar snacks in the tavern, is expected over the coming weeks. Prices on Sunday weren't soft launch-worthy however (they were giving a free oyster to each diner though). 

Josper-grilled rib-eye (£24) served with triple cooked chips and peppercorn sauce. Photo credit: @Sirbakealot

The food was uniformly good with unusual twists like the miso purée with my crispy-skinned tender lamb and heritage carrots. We aren't in average Sunday pub lunch territory are we? The 350g rib eye was flavoursome and cooked as asked, although the peppercorn sauce had a slightly odd smokiness to it. The triple-cooked chips looked like they had missed the third cook however, and were on the sallow side, lacking crispiness. The chips, like the rest of the savoury dishes however, were perfectly seasoned.

Matured lamb, miso puree, celeriac & heritage carrots (£19)

Desserts were perfect for what they were - a sweet, albeit deconstructed, cheesecake served in a glass, and a disc of rich chocolate mousse with a pineapple granita, although it lacked the perfume of the tropics.

Chocolate mousse, pineapple granite (£6.50)

Service was nervous and anxious which made me nervous and anxious on occasion. Thankfully, lightening reflexes prevented a fork from skittering across and scratching the new wooden floors at one point. On another, our lovely waitress was shaking so much when she delivered a cocktail that I thought I might wear it.

Soft orange cheese cake (£6.50)

With entrées over a tenner and mains pushing the £20 mark and over (for the Josper-touched meats), it's far from a cheap meal. Perhaps the folks on this side of Edgware Rd can afford a regular £75 Sunday lunch (for two people, 2 courses each plus a cocktail and a fruit punch) but I kind of baulk at that. I did see a couple of diners with young kids leave, I'm guessing because the menu doesn't cater to the average punter. Maybe the upcoming expanded menu will include a more accessible Sunday roast.

Still, while I get that the renovations cost a bomb, I really think Crocker's should have invested in a more experienced front of house, which is currently the weakest link in the proposition, to justify the prices being asked.

The grand dining room of Crocker's Folly

So, is Crocker's all fur coat and no knickers? When it comes to the food, definitely not. My lamb had loads of flavour and the steak was great. But as for the whole package, I think time will tell. I'll go back for a cocktail or two in the future and check out the bar menu as well. Hopefully the staff will have found their feet and the place will buzz with the confidence the building deserves.

Roan Kikunoi: smoked cherry trout

There are only so many meals that you feel you can do justice to with a blog post and I'm afraid time has usually got the better of me for most of them. I'm not one of those bloggers who is satisfied writing down "I went here and I ate that" and sending it out into the ether of the internet. It's boring to write and boring to read. But there are some experiences I've had that I really want to share, even if it is belatedly and with more brevity than usual (hurrah, I hear you cheer!). Anyway, my mind has recently returned to Japan, and Kyoto in particular, since I've just booked another holiday there. Japan is one of those places that gets under your skin and Kyoto, more than others, is somewhere that never leaves you. I've written of some memorable meals (noodles, tofu, unagi and Fushimi Inari) from the visit to Kyoto in April 2014, but so far I've left out the blockbuster two and three Michelin star spots that I ate in. One of the most enjoyable, and best bang-for-my-yen, meals was lunch at Roan Kikunoi - the two-star kappo sister to the flagship three-star Kikunoi.

Roan Kikunoi: dinner preparations

With the help of my hotel concierge, we scored lunch reservations at Roan Kikunoi on our final day in Kyoto. I chose the 10,000Y menu, since I wanted to experience the best that was on offer, but lunch can be had from just 4,000Y. At dinner, the menus run from 10,000Y to 18,000Y plus tax and service. The counter seating (kappo style) means an interactive kaiseki experience, with the chefs adding finishing touches to most of the dishes. I've always enjoyed watching passionate chefs cook. Since we had a late lunch seating, the staff moved on to some preparation for the evening meal too. We gawked at the incredibly skilled fish filleting and some prep of the seasonal firefly squid.

Roan Kikunoi: Tai milt tofu with ponzu jelly

The meal started with a sake aperitif, infused with cherry blossom leaf, served in a shallow bowl. A fresh mouthful of red sea bream milt tofu with a ponzu jelly followed. The aromatic flavour from the milt (fish sperm sac) was enhanced by the tart sweetness of the ponzu. This rather inconspicuous dish is actually incredibly seasonal, since sea bream only spawn once a year.

The Hassun course followed: a beautifully presented dish of various seasonal seafood and vegetables, accented by the last of the cherry blossoms. Small mouthfuls of ikura (salmon roe) and octopus with its eggs (better than the overcooked version at Chihana) were outstanding. The tai sushi was incredibly fresh, but was let down by overcooked rice, however I loved experiencing the vegetables I'd never seen before like mountain yams, udo stalks (a mountain asparagus) and lily roots (Yurine).

Roan Kikunoi: Hassun course

Sashimi followed. Spanish mackerel (sagoshi), paired with a similarly cut slab of ponzu jelly was incredibly tender with lingering fresh flavours. The red sea bream (tai) had a firmer texture which was a nice counterpoint to the creamier mackerel. The freshness of the fish and the preparation was outstanding.

Roan Kikunoi: sashimi of Spanish mackerel and sea bream

A Kikunoi signature sashimi dish followed: baby tuna (koshibi) with a marinated egg yolk sauce. Again, the fish was incredibly tender. When draped through the yolk sauce and punctuated with the small blob of mustard on the fish, the mouthful left a vibrant but delicate heat.

Roan Kikunoi: baby tuna with egg yolk sauce

Preparing the tuna...

Roan Kikunoi: finishing touches added to the sashimi course

A steamed course, again presented in beautiful lacquer-ware, was next. The gelatinous soup contained a cherry leaf encasing some tender tilefish (guji) which was wrapped around glutinous rice. There were some salt cured cherry blossom petals in there too, contributing to the heady aroma released from the bowl as the lid was lifted. Small cubes of tender bamboo and some ground rice crackers added texture. The dish was topped with delicate warabi (bracken fern) and a little ginger kept things fresh. This was quite a substantial course, but I enjoyed the progression of flavours from the punchier tuna sashimi to this one, which seemed simpler (but far from simple) and earthier.

Roan Kikunoi: steamed tilefish in a cherry leaf with sticky rice

My favourite dish followed and is considered another Kikunoi classic. The smoked cherry trout was presented adorned with only a cherry blossom on a rustic plate (see picture at the top). For all its simplicity, the dish leans heavily on the quality of its ingredients and skill in preparation. The scroll-like construction was tender, gently smoked and fantastically juicy and sweet. Another stunning dish.

Roan Kikunoi: grilled tofu with kinome miso

Continuing in the grilled vein, two small tofu skewers followed. The silken tofu was smothered in kinome-miso giving each bite a wonderful herbaceous and slightly numbing essence. The tofu was incredibly delicate and really melted with each bite. The sweetness, coupled with a hint of the charcoal over which it was cooked, meant this was another inspiring dish.

Roan Kikunoi: hot pot

A cleansing hotpot full of seasonal regional ingredients appeared fresh from the steamer, shrouded with a cloth. The lid was theatrically lifted to unveil an infusion of intricately cut bamboo, seaweed, fish (more tai) and herbs (more kinome). Clean flavours and a mixture of textures were all present and correct. I could linger over bowls of this.

Roan Kikunoi: hot pot with bamboo, seaweed and fish

The rice course was not simply an afterthought, but rather it was a sensational vehicle for showing off the best seasonal produce. The rice was presented by the beaming chef and the fabulous fragrance of bamboo shoots and herbs wafted out.

Roan Kikunoi: bamboo shoot rice with kinome

The warming rice was spiked with freshly cut kinome giving each mouthful a slight peppery numbness. The course was completed with various pickles (some sweet, some sharp and tart) and a green pea soup containing a fried minced shrimp ball.

Roan Kikunoi: rice, pea soup and pickles

We ended with a pure palate cleansing dessert and it was a stunning finale. The chilled basil seed soup with an almond jelly topped by two fragrant strawberries was as refreshing as it sounds. The basil seeds had been soaked in almond water, giving a natural gelatinous consistency to the "soup".

Roan Kikunoi: almond jelly with basil seed and strawberry

So there you have it. 10 outstanding courses, several of which come straight from the main Kikunoi ryotei. For the price of lunch, I think it's an experience hard to beat. Almost everything was perfect - from the thoughtful sequence of the dishes and the echo of certain ingredients in various courses, to the small touches like packing up the uneaten rice for an o-nigiri snack later on, showed an element of warmth and hospitality which I think was lacking from my dinner at three star Chihana. The English skills of the staff were good throughout, making Roan Kikunoi a great destination for the western tourist, and I think the bolder flavours are more suited to Western palates than the more subtle dishes I had at Chihana.

Roan Kikunoi: the entrance to the dining room

It's hard to believe that this oasis is only metres away from bustling downtown Kyoto. On my upcoming return trip, there's really only one place I want to revisit, and it's Roan Kikunoi.

By the way, if you are at all interested in Chef Murata and kaiseki, I highly recommend his book, Kaiseki: The Equisite Cuisine of Kyoto's Kikunoi Restaurant. Several of the dishes that I ate above are featured in the book with detailed descriptions of the ingredients and preparation methods. I find that knowing more of the story behind each dish really adds to my enjoyment. I find I used his home-style Japanese cookbook a lot too. Basically, I'm a fan boy!

PS - in hindsight, I wasn't as brief as I thought I could be!

Tea ceremony before the Miyako Odori

If you're in Kyoto in April, you're very lucky for a couple of reasons. Aside from the abundant, but fleeting, cherry blossoms, April is the only month that the Miyako Odori takes place. Hmm, I sense an ephemeral theme. The Miyako Odoro is a unique theatrical experience with dance, music and song performed by the geiko and maiko of Gion. Its origin dates back to the 1870s and draws local and international tourists by the score. Don't be put off by this though because it's one of the most unique events I've enjoyed, and that's from someone who's typically not really that into traditional song and dance. You'll leave utterly spellbound by this unmissable experience. Just make sure you take advantage of the tea ceremony ticket which, in addition to the brief ceremony itself, gives you access to the theatre's garden. Following the performance, you'll probably feel like a treat, so check out the array of ice cream flavours at Kinana or the beautiful wagashi at Kagizen.

You might be familiar with some elements of the Miyako Odori dance from the movie Memoirs of a Geisha, although the acting in that film was more wooden than all the buildings in Gion and with a fight sequence that Dynasty would have been proud of. In any case, the scene in which Sayuri performs her unusually interpretive Snow Dance looks to me like it was filmed in the Kaburenjo Theatre where the Miyako Odori takes place. Ignore that slightly OTT Snow Dance though, because the performance you see is much more traditional as shown in the video highlights below, shared via the Miyako Odori Twitter feed.



Booking tickets for the show is pretty straightforward, but do it early since there is a lot of demand. Ask your hotel concierge, or use the booking form on the website. There are four performances a day which last an hour. The basic ticket with allocated seating costs around 4,200Y, but I would recommend choosing the ticket that combines the performance with the tea ceremony since it adds greatly to the overall experience and it doesn't cost that much more (4,800Y).

Internal garden at the Kaburenjo Theatre

Arrive well before your appointed performance time, because the ticket gives you entry to the stunning gardens in the inner courtyard of the theatre. I could have spent much more time here investigating the ancient trees, but the performance was drawing near.

Internal garden at the Kaburenjo Theatre

After wondering around the gardens, join the queue for the tea ceremony. The ceremony lasts hardly 5 minutes (it has to be a fairly rapid turnover to get the 1,000 or so people into the theatre on time for the start of the performance), but at least it's a quick glimpse into the tradition.

Internal garden at the Kaburenjo Theatre / Miyako Odori

We happened to be at the front of the queue when our group of probably 80-100 people was ushered into the chamber where the ceremony takes place and took our seat on the front table. We were served a small sweet red bean treat and watched the graceful tea preparation. You get to keep the cute little plate that the wagashi is served on too.

Miyako Odori: tea ceremony before the Miyako Odori performance

Part of the ceremony involves serving tea to the first woman and the first man in the front row. As I mentioned, we were on the front table and I happened to be the first man in the row, so I was a little surprised when this happened.

Perhaps if you're on one of the tables towards the back of the room or to the side, the experience will not be as impressive, but I snapped some great pics and was surprised at the personal attention I received. As you move on from the ceremony, you'll pass through a museum with a stunning kimino exhibition before hitting some stalls selling souvenirs and then entering the theatre itself for the performance.

The whole show lasts about an hour and although I didn't really understand exactly what each scene was about, I was mesmerised by the choreography, the beautiful kimono, the instrumentation and stage production with its impressive lighting and backgrounds. No photography is allowed inside the theatre, so sit back and be transported to old Kyoto.

Blossoms in Kyoto

After the performance, you'll be in need of somewhere to recap what you've just seen and I've got two suggestions quite nearby. The closest is Kinana (祇園きなな), which serves some of the best ice cream in Kyoto. It's located on one of the back alleys near the theatre barely five minutes walk away (address: Japan, 〒605-0074 京都府京都市 東山区祇園町南側570−119). Although there is no English signage, the understated entrance looks like this.

Kinana: the unremarkable entry to some remarkable ice cream

Upstairs is a small seated area serving interestingly flavoured scoops of the smoothest ice cream or a more decadently constructed parfait. I chose brown sugar, caramel and mugwort (800Y) ice cream. Although not exactly cheap, it was a nice break from the crowds and gave us time to savour the Miyako Odori performance.

Kinana: trio of ice cream

There's also an option for just two scoops with some mochi for 700Y.

Kinana: ice cream with mochi and red beans

A little further walk away on the Shijo Dori is Kagizen Yoshifusa (address: 京都市東山区祇園町北側264番地), which is a little more zen-like than Kinana and serves a wide selection of more refined wagashi. Tucked away beyond the dark wood counter selling takeaway treats, is a tea house which looks onto a small enclosed garden. I ordered kanro-take, which is a jelly (mizu-yokan) served in a small bamboo shoot. It's essentially red bean jelly, and quite beautiful, even if it does look like a lipstick.

Kagizen in Kyoto: kanro-take

But the prettier dish was the stunning sakura wagashi.With the beautiful light streaming in from the garden, Kagizen is a perfect pit stop on your tour of Gion whether you've been to the Miyako Odori performance or not.

Kagizen in Kyoto: sakura wagashi

Kurobuta: wagyu sliders £19

Do you remember the late 80s? In Tokyo? No? It's pretty vague for me too, but if you take my hand and come with me to Kurobuta in Marble Arch, you'll time warp to find Aussie chef Scott Hallsworth recreating the excesses of the rampant consumerism of the bubble economy in the ludicrous ambitious pricing of his Japanese-ish restaurant. You'll find pricing as lofty as those Tokyo apartments (pre crash obvs) and nouvelle-ish portion sizing presented by fresh-from-Sydney staff. The space is pretty relaxed with a mash up of Aussie culture in the music (early 90s indie-punk Ratcat?) and the posters (umm, Warwick Capper, anyone? Bueller?). The food though is actually pretty good and in some cases excellent, but I couldn't really get past the pricing. I mean, a can of Old Jamaica ginger beer that you can pick up at the Kwik-E-Mart for 50p costs £4.50 at Kurobuta. The mark up is astonishing and lingers longer than a gulp of that ginger beer. Clearly, there's a reason why Kurobuta has locations in Chelsea and Marble Arch and not further east: it's aimed directly at the moneyed classes. In Marble Arch I was surrounded by lots of very real fur trim on the winter coats of plucked mothers plus their undisciplined whining children. In Chelsea I'm sure there's more than a fleeting pair of red trousers. If that's your thing, I'm sure you'll have a great time at Kurobuta. For me, it'll take a generous benefactor emulating the feted (or hated) 80s to make me return.

I mentioned the food was good, and it generally is. Our friendly Aussie waiter, Seano, suggested six courses for lunch since we weren't hugely hungry. We ended up ordering seven, but weren't stuffed by the time we left. Seano was helpful throughout and I appreciated the staggered serving of dishes rather than the usual serve-when-it's-ready style to most "tapas" places (Seano's words, not mine). 

Kurobuta: hijiki salad

The hijiki salad (just ignore the arsenic warnings), was nicely textured and not thirst inducingly salty like they sometimes can be. The small bowl was £6.50. Pumpkin tempura with pickled pumpkin and "creamy spicy shiso dressing", was light, sweet and moreish. Six bites for £6.50 seemed a bit toppy though, especially compared to the huge bowl of dressing that we hardly dented despite repeated dunkings.

Kurobuta: pumpkin tempura

I wanted to try the "BBQ pork belly in steamed buns with spicy peanut soy" (hirata buns) to see how they compare to others I've eaten around London and those that I sometimes make at home. They were top notch with juicy pork and soft buns, which had been torched for some reason. Seano advised opening up the buns and stuffing as much spicy peanut soy into the middle before eating. The sauce was more sweet and caramel in flavour than spicy though, and I would have loved a squirt of sriracha to give it a bit more zing. It was £13 for these two. Just so you know, Ippudo charge £3 a piece, albeit in a more stripped back fashion. The ever popular Bao sell for around £3.50.

Kurobuta: BBQ pork buns with spicy peanut soy

Even though I raised an eyebrow and my eyes watered at the pricing of the wagyu sliders (steamed bun, crunchy onions, pickled cucumber, umami mayo), I'm a sucker for a little burger and these sounded good coming from the Junk Food Japan section of the menu. The patty was smaller than I expected but was wagyu-juicy even with a gristly chunk in mine. The onion ring had been tempura fried which was a fun touch. The fluffy steamed bun had been torched, but I'm not exactly sure why. I guess for £19 for two, you have to do something cheffy.

The best dish of lunch was probably the aubergine "Nasu Dengaku; Sticky Miso Grilled Aubergine with Candied Walnut". For the more bargainous price of £8.50, the aubergine (and frankly with the pedigree of the place it should be called eggplant) was well cooked with none of the fibrous chewiness that under cooking can leave you with. The crunchy textures from the walnuts were a nice touch. "How'd that go down?" the waitress (not Seano) asked. Very well indeed was the reply.

Kurobuta: nasu dengaku

We decided to try some sushi, so went with Diver Scallop with Ginger and Black Bean. The two morsels were £8. The kitchen obviously loves its flame thrower because the scallop was torched (see wagyu slider and hirata buns above), as was some of the rice. If you look closely, the scallop appears dry either from the flame, or from sitting out a bit too long, but was actually pretty juicy and sweet. I thought the black bean may overwhelm, but it was actually a good match. The pickled ginger mound was bigger than the nigiri however.

Kurobuta: diver scallop with ginger and black bean sushi

Thankfully, the spicy tuna maki escaped the flame and hit the right spicy notes that I wish were in the pork buns. The rice was pretty well cooked, as you'd hope for a dish priced at £8.50.

Kurobuta: spicy tuna maki

Lunch for the two of us, with no booze, came to £95 which is frankly way overpriced. I mentioned the price of the ginger beer in the opening but a limeade - you know, a squeeze of lime, some sugar and soda water - was a fiver. I've laboured the point, but seriously, I don't think it can go uncommented. Still, the food is generally enjoyable, but just not worth the asking price given the laid back style. I'm afraid I'll be jumping to the left, stepping to the right, putting my hands on my hips and walking past Kurobuta in future.

Bonnie Gull: my crab is bigger than yours

I won something! Seriously, I never win anything. My mum is the lucky one in the family. Every Christmas, she'll win the ham and most likely something else. It's uncanny. Me though, always diddly squat. But the stars must have aligned before Christmas because I won a Seafood Masterclass from the lovely people at Bonnie Gull in Exmouth Market via a Twitter competition. Colour me amazed and excited! I'm a pretty good cook (he says modestly), but seafood is an area that I don't tend to dabble in at home since it can be a bit daunting. No one wants to eat overcooked fish. Knowledge begets confidence though, so being given the chance to learn some tips from the professionals was keenly appreciated. Along with a three course lunch with matched wine plus a cocktail, the afternoon was hugely enjoyable. Granted it was a freebie, but I would definitely shell out the very reasonable £80 for this experience.

Over a spicy Bonnie Mary topped with a freshly shucked oyster, we were introduced to the Executive Chef, Luke Robinson, and Gavin Gordon, the Head Chef of the Exmouth Market location who talked us through the structure of the afternoon. Both were affable chaps and more than happy to answer the many tedious questions I threw at them.

Bonnie Gull: Oyster preparation

We started with an introduction to various oysters from a few locations around the UK. Dorset Blues, the lovely Porthilly, favoured by Nathan Outlaw, and the big Rock oysters from Carlingford. We were walked through the process of storing, opening, checking for freshness and, of course, tasting them. There's a bit of a knack to opening them, and getting hands on was a first for me. It felt quite an achievement opening up an oyster without completely brutalising it, and slurping down the little sucker.

Bonnie Gull: preparation of gravadlax (1)

One of the starters on the menu at Bonnie Gull is a delicious Loch Duart gravadlax and we were shown how to make it. Clearly good produce makes a difference here, but chef Luke explained some variables in the recipe like the thickness of the fish on the timing of the cure. The preparation was pretty straightforward, with mustard, dill and orange juice the main ingredients.

Bonnie Gull: preparation of gravadlax (2)

The finished dish, served with a tart little fennel salad and some toasts was a beautiful opener, particularly paired with a glass (OK, two) of Vire-clesse - a chardonnay from Burgundy.

Bonnie Gull: gravadlax

We moved on to some examples of filleting fish. Did you know, for example, that a hake's spine is horizontal rather than vertical? As a result, a hake requires a skilled hand to fillet it. Sea bass is a more regular shaped fish and we were shown how to scale and fillet the big sea bass, looking out for the pockets of little bones that can easily be missed.

Bonnie Gull: filleting fish (1)

Sadly we didn't get to eat the sea bass (one of my favourites), but I couldn't complain because we moved on to crabs!

Bonnie Gull: Filleting fish (2)

There was a drawer of crabs at Bonnie Gull, all gently dozing away due to the cold temperature. We learned how to identify male and female crabs, how to cook them and prepare them. The crabs were huge specimens from Devon. Look at the size of the claws! After they were cooked (roughly 10 minutes), chef Luke showed us how to break it down and painstakingly pick out the meat from all the nooks and crannies, while chef Gavin showed us how to prepare the brown meat from the shell the Bonnie Gull way. A bit of mustard, some chilli powder all gently whisked together and served back in the shell.

Bonnie Gull: crab preparation

The final product was a show stopper - served on a board with the big claws to crack open. It was so big though, I cheekily asked if we could take the rest of the claw meat home with us. I'm thinking of adding it to a congee. We drank a lightly chilled Italian red (Ruche di Castagnole Monferrato) with the crab, which was perfect.

Bonnie Gull: smash your own crab

Dessert was a simple but tasty 99-style soft-serve ice cream studded with frozen berries. I was stuffed and a bit merry by the time we stumbled out into Exmouth Market late in the afternoon.

Bonnie Gull: dessert

I started the year with a goal to learn more about food rather than just cooking and eating it. I've done a cheese making course via Neal's Yard and a lamb butchery class at the Ginger Pig (both highly recommended). It's important to realise that this is not a cooking class, with the only hands on being the oyster shucking, but I don't consider that a drawback. The Bonnie Gull seafood masterclass was a great addition to my knowledge of fish, crabs and oysters. I imagine the content will change with the seasons too meaning you could easily try it out a couple of times a year.

The impressive torii at Kanazawa JR Station

Little here is original. I'm afraid that when I visited Kanazawa in March 2015, the internet lacked much in the way of help for the non-Japanese tourist wanting to visit the area. I think that was partly because travel connections to Kanazawa from the east coast weren't that user friendly until the opening of the high speed line just a few weeks before my trip. The train from Tokyo now takes as little as 2.5 hours, although I would suggest breaking the journey in Nagano to visit the terrific temple precinct and to drop in on the Snow Monkeys (oh and also check out the brilliant oyaki purveyors in the train station). Without many blog posts to rely on, I planned my eating in Kanazawa with the help of an article I found penned by Adam Liaw, the Aussie Masterchef winner with personal links to the area. Kanazawa was a refreshing break from the bigger and more well trodden cities like Tokyo and Kyoto. We enjoyed world class sushi, an intimate kaiseki meal, plenty of noodles, more wagashi breaks than you could hope for and it was topped off with gold leaf covered soft serve ice cream. With top quality food, as well as a number of interesting districts to visit, Kanazawa warrants a good three days to appreciate.

Where to Stay
I lodged at the MyStays in Kanazawa, but suggest you look elsewhere. While the room was great because the hotel was still very new, the location was a little out of the way. It was a shortish 10 minute walk from the train station, but in a direction away from most of the places you are likely to be interested in. Also, booking restaurants really needs the help of a good concierge in most parts of Japan, and the services here were frustratingly lacking. I would choose somewhere on the east side of the JR station, rather than the west.

Where to Eat
Kanazawa is uniquely placed in Japan for the quality of the food it has access to. It might have something to do with the intensely changeable weather. In mid March we had rain, snow, hail, wind and even a bit of sunshine, so pack appropriately. I think this weather contributes to the quality of the fertile and mountainous land around Kanazawa which lends itself to the famous kaga vegetables, while the proximity to Toyoma and the Sea of Japan brings unique seafood into Kanazawa before it reaches elsewhere in Japan. 

Sweet potato soft serve in a donut cone from the Omicho Market, Kanazawa

Sushi
Otomezushi (no website that I could find) has such a welcoming and relaxed atmosphere. I think it might be down to the combination of the affable master Kazuhiko Tsurumi, who effortlessly took care of the sushi, and a female "sous chef" who looked like a total bad ass while carving up chunks of fish with her massive knives or while tending the binchotan grill. Maybe it was this yin/yang, or perhaps it was the more regional location that made Otomezushi such a fun meal.

Otomezushi, Kanazawa

There are about 8 seats at the sushi bar and a small private room. Very little English is spoken by Tsurumi-san, so expect a fair amount of sign language or fall back on your knowledge of Japanese fish names which you can pick up pretty quickly. We happened to strike up a conversation with a diner from Tokyo who said Otomezushi was her favourite sushi-ya in Japan. We asked for the omakase selection when we booked via our hotel, but our new friend ordered some other interesting items that we added to our meal, like sea cucumber ovaries. A good amount of sake means I'll try anything.

Otomezushi, Kanazawa

My photos from Otomezushi didn't turn out that great, but from the collage above you get the picture, so to speak. The meal encompassed sashimi such as hirame (a flat fish), buri (amberjack), some local sweet shrimp, squid with its guts, delicate sayuri (needle fish), sea snails and some murasaki uni. Of course there were firefly squid, since the season had just started and Toyoma Bay is so close by. They were so delicious even though they were simply marinated in soy sauce.

Otomezushi, Kanazawa

One thing I did notice as the sushi part of the meal progressed is that the wasabi started to become more noticeable. We had a chu-toro maki which was so sweet, but quite heavy on the wasabi kick. I'm not sure if that was intentional. There were some grilled items like nodoguro (a type of perch) which we encountered in many places on this trip. It was deliciously rich with a soft, gelatinous flesh. We finished with an unagi hand roll and a miso soup with a chunky crab dumpling.

Otomezushi, Kanazawa

I mentioned the sea cucumber ovaries (hoshiko), which are pictured above, top right. The ovaries are harvested then pressed together and dried. Apparently one batch takes around 200 sea cucumbers to make, so it is a laborious process. A sliver was cut for us from a larger portion, and then lightly grilled over charcoal. The texture was chewy and the flavour was rich and intensely fishy. It was kind of like ovary jerky, but great with sake. Otomezushi is the only place I've seen them served so it was fun to try something completely new.

It's not an inexpensive meal though. The cost for two with a lot of food and a reasonable amount of sake was just shy of Y30,000. This is cheaper than a similar meal in Tokyo though. We exited into a hail storm, breaking the enchantment of the evening with a cold thud. I told you Kanazawa was unpredictable.

Kaiseki
Zeniya was our blow out kappa kaiseki meal in Kanazawa. Chef Shinichiro Takagi is highly regarded in Japan, although it wasn't him overseeing our meal but his brother. Their mother was one of the staff, as was the chef's wife, so it's clear that the passion for food runs in the family. The room is very simple with around seven seats facing the open kitchen where the preparation and grilling takes place. The tiles reminded me a little of 70s Australian kitchens so it's not the most modern of settings.

Zeniya, Kanazawa

I think the setting is deliberate, as it makes you focus on the food that is artfully constructed and presented, sometimes in bowls or boxes that date from the Ming Dynasty. We started with some green spring vegetables called nano hana before moving to an ethereal soup preparation. The rare Ainame (fat greenling) was steamed with sakura leaf and topped with some numbing kinome. The heady fragrance of the sakura made this dish so memorable. Plus, look at the gorgeous sakura blossom bowl it's served in! A small dish of sashimi followed including sea trout, a slightly crunchy sea snail, and a sweet and creamy prawn. The quality was superb.

Zeniya, Kanazawa

An interactive dish of stone-grilled torigai (Japanese cockle) followed. The chef took a slice of torigai and added it to the searingly-hot stone and turned it after about 10 seconds. I had eaten torigai as sashimi at Sushi-ya in Tokyo a few days earlier and thought the texture was a little challenging. However, here, the heat really brought out the sweetness in the flesh.

Torigai at Zeniya, Kanazawa

A box of treats followed with four interesting dishes including barbecued cockles, unagi and tai (red snapper) shirako. Sea cucumber intestines were served with potato, while there were also firefly squid with dried mullet roe and a sea bream nigiri. Salted abalone liver was served in the smallest dish and used as a condiment.

One of the best grilled fish dishes I've ever had followed. While we had nodoguro at Otomezushi, the preparation at Zeniya was astounding. It was topped with corn starch and kinome and had been grilled and basted for what seemed like a long time. The fish remained tender and had incredible depth of flavour. I don't really think the soft-boiled egg added that much to the dish, but what's not to like about it.

Shabu shabu at Zeniya, Kanazawa

The meal had another interactive moment with shabu shabu of local beef and wild vegetables. Look at the marbling in the beef! The meat was merely draped through the stock for a few moments and then dunked in the egg and radish sauce. This was a simple dish to showcase local produce to great effect.  The rice course rounded out the evening before desserts (custard apple from, oddly, California followed by matcha and wagashi of fresh peas). The anago rice was another beautifully textured dish. The rice was fragrant with herbs and full of gelatinous eel skin and flesh. Of course I had seconds. 

Very good English was spoken by the staff, making Zeniya an easy option for foreign tourists, but there's no getting around the fact that it is expensive. We chose the top Y23,000 menu, which hit almost Y60,000 for two with sake, tax and service. The food was high quality and the service was charming, but I feel like I had better value meals at this price point elsewhere in Japan. With that said, I would still recommend Zeniya.

Noodles
Ippudo is a great quality standby wherever you are in Japan. On a freezing evening a bowl of ramen really hits the spot. I had the premium Akamuru set and I rate their fried gyoza as some of the tastiest I've eaten too. The location is central making it an easy pit stop for a cheap and cheerful lunch or dinner. 

Ippudo, Kanazawa

I love udon, and Fukuwauchi, which is not too far from the Higashi Chaya district (see below), dishes up slurp-worthy bowls at reasonable prices. We found this spot in a guide book, but despite that you won't find any English spoken and you'll need to rely on the google translate app for an approximation of the menu.

Chicken and mushroom udon at Fukuwauchi, Kanazawa

Actually, there are three or four different restaurants in this complex so finding the one you want might be hit and miss, but persevere and you'll be shown to the cosy tatami room upstairs. I ordered a fantastic mushroom udon hot pot which really warmed me up on the cold day. Mr B went with a classic udon set with rice, pickles and salad. It's all good value with the prices well under £10.

Udon set at Fukuwauchi, Kanazawa

What to See
The Kanazawa tourist information website is very useful so it's a good place to start your planning. I run through my favourite spots below. There are other high profile attractions to visit, but I didn't really love the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art. I think this was because they were rehanging part of the space so there was little of interest apart from the cool swimming pool and the, umm, somewhat vaginal Anish Kapoor installation. Also, I didn't think the Nishi Chaya geisha district was worth the trek. We did find some tofu ice cream nearby, but apart from that there really wasn't much to see.

Leandro Erlich's The Swimming Pool at the 21 Century Museum of Contemporary Modern

Kenroku-en Garden
The Kenroku-en garden is considered one of the three most beautiful in Japan. Unfortunately when I visited, it was about a week or two before the cherry blossoms would bloom, so much of the park was still pretty barren in the frigid wind. The plum blossoms were out though and the lovely grove with multiple varieties was a great place to wander. It was also fascinating to inspect the interesting method for protecting the branches of the ancient trees that you can see in the photos below. Kanazawa receives a lot of snow in the winter meaning the tree branches could collapse under the accumulated weight, but the intricate rope work prevents this.

Scenes from Kenrokuen garden in Kanazawa

There is a small tea house (Miyoshian) by one of the lakes near the garden entrance (the one closest to the Modern Art Museum) where you can grab some matcha and a wagashi at a fairly reasonable price. It was pretty quiet when we visited, so it was a pleasant place to rest our feet and gaze on the water for a while.

Wagashi in the Kenrokuen Gardens, Kanazawa

Naga-machi Buke Yashiki District (Samurai district)
Although it sounds twee, the well restored samurai district was actually one of my favourite spots in Kanazawa. I enjoyed wandering over the small bridges and around the streets with their earthen walls and weathered wood.

Mud walls in the Samurai district, Kanazawa

Mostly though, I really enjoyed the Nomura Samurai Family Residence, which is a must-visit attraction in this district. The beautiful gardens are worth the small admission price with the different rooms opening onto unique vistas. The serene music, water features and compact composition made this one of my favourite gardens of my trip.

Garden view at the Nomura Samurai Family Residence

Here's another angle of the small, but beautifully formed garden...

The garden of the Nomura Samurai Family Residence, Kanazawa

...and this shows some of the interior screen paintings.

Screens at the Nomura Samurai Residence, Kanazawa

There is also a small teahouse serving, you guessed it, wagashi and matcha. From the two rooms, with just tatami matting to rest on, there is another pleasant view of the garden.

Wagashi and matcha at the Nomura Samurai Residence, Kanazawa

Omicho Market

Omicho market, Kanazawa

I always make a bee line for food markets when I visit somewhere new and the Omicho market is definitely one to explore. The market is made up of many small alleys, so it is easy to get disoriented, but that's the best way to stumble across something interesting. Crab season was definitely in full swing when I visited. There are many spots to eat in the market, with some serving oysters or sea urchins from their shells, but we just wandered around and picked up some soft serve ice cream and some tea, so I can't recommend anywhere specific to eat in Omicho.

Higashi Chaya district
Higashi Chaya retains the charm of the Edo period and is where you will find traditional tea houses being tended by geisha. It is said to be a more manageable version of Gion, but we didn't spot any geisha when we were there. Maybe it's more atmospheric after dark. Despite this, the area is definitely a must see to check out the weathered architecture and the number of independent artisan stores there. I bought some beautiful handcrafted wood items like chopsticks and a presentation bowl as well as a ceramic vase from Kihachi Kobo which is one of the oldest producers of wood-turned products in the region. There are also quite a few teahouses to stop at.

Higashi Chaya district, Kanazawa

We randomly chose one place which happened to be Morihachi, which is one of the oldest in the city dating back to 1625. There was a small queue but it didn't take long to be shown to a table next to the small internal garden. A pot of hojicha and a wagashi can be restoring for the bones when you're out walking much of the day.

Wagashi and hojicha at Morihachi, Kanazawa

The Utatsuyama temple district is just a short stroll away from Higashi Chaya, and we walked between the many temples (with intermittent snow storms!) which afford some decent views over the city. While it did not seem possible to visit the temples, there were many beautifully tended gardens that were worth exploring, even in the early Spring.

Post snow shower in the Utatsuyama district, Kanazawa

Did you know that Kanazawa also produces around 98% of the gold leaf in Japan? It appears they have a surfeit of it, because as well as picking up a small jar to take home you can also have it sprinkled on soft serve ice cream. We stopped by Ukeian, which is a short stroll from the pedestrianised area. It specialises in products from the Ukokkei chicken, which has weirdly mesmeric silkie feathers. The shop uses the eggs in loads of products, so we bought a castella cake (topped with gold leaf, obviously) to take home but also had a yolk-flavoured soft serve topped with a liberal sprinkling of gold leaf. Even though it was about 10 degrees outside, we were definitely on cloud oishii. I can think of few better ways to top off a day in Kanazawa.

Gold leaf ice cream from Ukokkei in Higashi Chaya, Kanazawa

Duck foie gras at Frenchie

It was a rookie error really and considering I can no longer honestly tick the juvenile box on questionable questionnaires, I have no one to blame but myself. Frenchie, newly landed from the Rue du Nil via Eurostar in Covent Garden, suggests that dishes from its confusingly structured menu can be shared. Well of course they can be shared, but it doesn't mean they're suitable for sharing. Portion sizes are on the, shall we say, modest size. This means you'll need a couple of their foie gras dishes at £14 a pop unless you're happy with a thumbnail-sized mini mouthful. Likewise, pasta dishes can be shared, but only if you fancy smearing some ragu across the metal tables. So, my advice is to ignore the advice on the menu. These dishes aren't for sharing. Treat Frenchie like a three course (ok probably four) kinda place and you'll enjoy it. The food is well executed, the wine is good, the space is open and light and service is...let's say the service is still a work in progress.

The top row of the menu is snack-based so we chose smoked anchovies with Neal's Yard salted butter (£6), Bacon Scones with Cornish clotted cream (£5) and Clarence's Court Egg Mimosa (£3 an egg). The anchovies were indeed lovingly smoked but this effect was tamed by some pickled onion and the oiliness of the fish itself. Order them.

Smoked anchovies at Frenchie

Bacon scones were a hit, as you might well imagine. Like shooting fish in a barrel really. Imagine crispy, chewy lardons amped up to taste like very bacony bacon, interspersed through a slightly crumbly dough. The effect was reminiscent of American candied bacon to these somewhat traveled tastebuds. The clotted cream served little purpose apart from making it more calorific. Thankfully the half scone I had was gone in two dainty bites.

Bacon scones at Frenchie

The hard boiled eggs were lovely little morsels but I couldn't work out the ingredients apart from the egg, obviously. Unfortunately there was no champagne nor orange juice in there. Still, the seeds scattered on top added some texture to these light bites.

Egg mimosa at Frenchie

We shared duck foie gras with smoked eel and rhubarb (and a shamefully uncredited supporting role from slivered and pureed beetroot - £14), roasted carrots with vadouvan, medjool dates and barley (£12) plus the two pasta dishes. The foie dish was a highlight. The small, I mean really small, cubes of eel tasted like your clothes might smell after sitting by a campfire toasting marshmallows for an evening. The smoke had imbued every fiber of the eel but left no lingering acrid note. The rich foie, some sweet beet and a counterpoint of a square centimetre of acidic rhubard created The Perfect Bite. 14 quid though and between four eaters my share was the size of my thumb...but barely to the knuckle.

Roasted carrots at Frenchie

The carrots were probably the best of the night, but are the best example of why the sharing concept doesn't work. The smell of the dish was heavy on the curry powder as it was served but this aroma floated away with a bite of the roasted, blackened veg. As I was munching my share of carrot I noticed the pureed date blob hiding on the other side of the plate. I took a little more than my fair share of carrot and smeared on the date and it was like pow, pow, pow Fourth of July time in my mouth. It was only now that the dish really worked.

Veal and scallop tartare at Frenchie

Another dish that proves the sharing advice at Frenchie is broken is the tartare of veal and scallop with miso, endive, Parmesan and Piedmont hazelnut (£14). My first helping of deliciously coarsely chopped meat and bivalve was tasty but weighted more towards surf than turf. The second bite I took was just a mouthful of miso which had been blobbed onto the plate. The balance of the dish, along with its suitability for sharing, would have been more apparent if it had been better mixed before serving. Frenchie isn't aiming for peasant rusticity, so let's mix it up.

Ricotta tortelli at Frenchie

Our waitress recommended the pasta dishes but they left me a bit underwhelmed. The ricotta tortelli with lapsang souchong tea and lemon caviar (£14) was five, very al-dente pasta parcels bathed in a sauce that was more mushroom umami than smoky tea, but no complaints from me. The lamb pappardelle with kalamata olives and espelette was a challenging dish to split between four. Pulled lamb shoulder topped the robust pasta but the whole didn't really pop for me. It was more comfort food oriented than other dishes on the menu.

Lamb ragu at Frenchie

We ordered all three desserts (at £9 each) and I would do so again. The deconstructed banoffee pie was sweet and rich, the new season rhubarb with Brillat-Savarin was actually a delicious deconstructed cheesecake of sorts while the Lemon, yuzu, kalamata olive and honey dish was a polenta cake topped with honey ice cream. All were unusually light.

Desserts at Frenchie

So, that's 11 dishes between four of us and the meal came to £62 a head with two bottles of wine at £50 each (the cheapest pinot on the menu and actually pretty good). We were reasonably sated but that's probably only because we started the evening at Barrafina ordering their crab croquettes. With four famished people you could comfortably order the entire dinner menu. The weight you put on from the food would be easily countered by the lightness of your wallet.

Rhubarb with Brillat-Savarin at Frenchie

Service was slightly manic yet altogether Gallic. I could barely pierce the accent of the sommelier nor our waitress but that was partly due to the pumped up background music forcing its way into the foreground. When Chef Marchand asked "Ça va bien?" on my way back from the toot, I had to remind myself that I was a stone's throw from the Punch & Judy. I replied "oui chef, very good" and meant it. I'm confident that Frenchie is not going the way of Chabanais, which closed faster than I could gather any interest in it. Don't take your time to visit though. It's worth heading down while Marchand is in town overseeing the early days.

The Insatiable Eater did not dine as a guest of the restaurant but is open to the idea. He also apologises for the iPhone photos

The Sportsman

The Sportsman is one of those seemingly mythic restaurants existing beyond Zone 2 that always seemed unreachable to this non-car owning city slicker. Yes I know there are trains but really, who would entrust their punctuality, or anything else for that matter, to SouthEastern Trains? The four hour lunchtime tasting menu at The Sportsman kicks off at midday and I'd prefer not to have to leave home at 6am to reach Whitstable in time thanks very much. So we bit the bullet, hired a car, organised a shady mid-week hookie day from work, et voila, found ourselves in Kent on a frosty mid December day. For some reason, I had thought the focus of the meal would be solely on seafood given the proximity to the coast, but I was wrong. The seafood courses were my favourites, but vegetable-only and meat-based dishes held their own. There was very little to fault in the meal and with the relaxed and friendly service, I'd even brave SouthEastern to get another taste of the terrific brill braised in vin jaune sauce.

The meal starts with a number of snacks. I liked the pickled herring on soda bread with a lovely jelly the most with the cheese and lamb kidney bite a close second. 

Starter snacks at The Sportsman

The second snack was a magnificent poached egg yolk bathed in a horseradish cream with smoked eel and a parsley sauce. It was like a warm hug and a smack in the mouth at the same time. Lightly smokey and very creamy, but with freshness from the parsley and a kick from horseradish.  A lot of raw dairy products are used at The Sportsman, giving the dishes a wonderful bracing tartness too. The 2.5 hour drive from west London is quickly forgotten with each mouthful.

Poached egg yolk at The Sportsman

If it were possible to lick an eggshell clean I would have, but I don't have the most dexterous tongue.

Poached egg yolk at The Sportsman

Since you're a stone's throw from Whitstable, oysters make an appearance. The native is served with chorizo (in the middle of the pic below), while two rock oysters complete the trio but in different preparations. One is ever so gently poached, slathered in a buerre blanc and topped with caviar, and another comes with a Bramley apple granita.

Oysters at The Sportsman

A terrific vegetal interlude followed. The pot roasted red cabbage had a great ntensity of flavour which was emphasised by an apple balsamic. Some stewed apple amplified the tart and sweet notes of the dish.

Pot roast red cabbage at The Sportsman

Arguably The Sportsman's signature dish is a slip sole slathered in an umami rich seaweed butter, but I wasn't exactly bowled over by it. Perhaps that's the thing with expectations, you're bound to be somewhat disappointed that the Insta-hype doesn't match reality. I found the texture of the fish a little too dense and just a touch dry.

The rich slice of mallard breast changed the pace of the meal up a gear. A richly delicious bread sauce matched it, but was tamed a little by a rosehip sauce drizzle.

Mallard at The Sportsman

My favourite dish of the meal was the braised brill in a vin jaune sauce with smoked pork. This sauce was, quite simply, sensational. The fish was flaky and tender, the fatty pork was gently smoked and added a different texture to the dish and nestled underneath the fish were some stewed leeks for sweetness. This dish is all about the sauce though, and you'll want to lick the plate clean.

Braised brill and smoked pork at The Sportsman

Dairy cows are having their moment aren't they? Take your pick of the current crop of hipster hangouts like Kitty Fisher's or the Chiltern Firehouse which are ripping off the Etxebarri classic trying to serve the oldest moo in London. So I was slightly surprised to see it on the menu in deepest Kent. This was described as a retired dairy cow and was served with a solidly-made mash and a blob of tarragon sauce. It's a rich flavour, slightly chewy too, and the fat has a butteriness that isn't really pleasant from the get go. I loved the Etxebarri chop, but the few slices served here were definitely enough.

Retired dairy cow at The Sportsman

This was the third relatively rich dish in a row, so dessert was a more than welcome change of pace. The whimsical pear popsicle coated in gingerbread crumbs was a perfect palate cleanser.

Pear popsicle at The Sportsman

The meal finished with a Bramley apple souffle and a slightly too-salty-for-me salted caramel ice cream. The souffle wasn't the lightest or airiest I've ever eaten but it had a great acidity to it, like a digestive after the long meal.

Bramley apple souffle and  salted caramel ice cream at The Sportsman

The whole experience at The Sportsman is relaxed, informal and great value with the tasting menu a very reasonable £65. The wine list is also very approachable with what seemed to be very modest mark ups. The most expensive red is a Rioja at £80. The only drawback of such an enjoyable day out is that if you're a day-tripper you have to fight the peak hour traffic back to London or, worse, put your faith in that train company. Talk about returning to reality with a thud.

Bramley apple souffle and  salted caramel ice cream at The Sportsman

Rubia Gallega at Lurra

Donastia, Lurra's sister restaurant, has the honour of being on my list of banned London restaurants. Oh yes, the list is real and it is lengthy. I wanted to like Donastia when it first opened but, a bit like Lurra, some of the dishes failed to hit the mark. Donastia's overcooked pluma was unforgivable while their mini wagyu burger was a pale imitation of the drool-worthy iberico burger at Opera Tavern. That's not the reason for the ban though. Donastia is the only restaurant in London where the staff turfed me off my table at the end of my allotted 2 hour dining slot. We were handed the bill and our coats with the last bites of dessert while a couple stood next to the table. Needless to say, I haven't been back. Lurra wasn't like that though, but to invoke a sporting analogy to describe the food, there are a lot of swings, a few hits but no home runs.

Lurra subtitles itself a Basque Grill. It's not really, but it makes a decent attempt at replicating the dishes you will find around San Sebastien and the hills of Bilbao. I'm not claiming to be an expert on the rustic dishes of the Basque, but my meals there benefited from being cooked in close contact with burning embers. The food at Asador Etxebarri was so memorable because of the nuanced use of smoke in most of the dishes. Lurra adds old vine twigs to its fire, but they imparted little to the flavour of the dishes I had there. It's a missed opportunity to create something incredible. I'm being a bit picky, but by and large I liked Lurra and plan to return.

Courgette flower stuffed with cod brandada at Lurra

We started with a number of small plates. A courgette flower stuffed with cod brandada lacked lightness with an oddly thick coating. The filling was quite substantial and this size made it slightly too large to eat solo, but it was also a messy mouthful to share as a tapa. The brandada had a decent fishy flavour though. For £7.50 each, this dish was overpriced by about £2 in my view, and there are better courgette flowers in London. Salt Yard charge £4.50 for their brilliant version stuffed with goats' cheese.

Squid stuffed with prawns and chorizo at Lurra

Squid stuffed with prawns and chorizo (£13) promised much but lacked on the execution. The squid body was stuffed with small prawns and chunky hunks of well spiced chorizo, but I thought it was a little on dry side. I probably wouldn't order it again.

Koktxas pil-pil at Lurra

We got back on track with the hake koktxas pip-pil (£7) which were terrific. The gelatious cod throats were very tender and the pil pil sauce was plate-lickingly good. Bread and butter, is charged at £3 for three half slices, but the quality was a far cry from the sourdough you get from Hedone via the Antidote Wine Bar for £4.

Grilled octopus with piquillo sauce at Lurra

The striking grilled octopus was almost a ten out of ten dish. The tentacles and head were tender but still juicy and the dish would have been a complete knock out had there been a more noticeable whiff of smoke about it. The piquillo pepper sauce was great, but to be honest I'm not a huge fan of squeezy bottle drizzle plating. It looks a bit too Duck & Waffle to me (evidence here, here, here and here but I could go on). I'm also not a fan of multiple blobs of sauces or gels or vertically placed vegetables, but I digress.

14 year old Rubia Gellega Prime Rib, Grade 9

The two large sharing plates, which are the climax of the menu, evoke the famous dishes of the region. We chose the Galician Blond prime rib (£71) over the turbot and added some side dishes. I don't think I've had a better tomato salad than the one at Lurra . It must be the Feo de Tudela tomatoes. Even at £6, I'd order it again. The grilled red peppers were similarly sensational (£6). I wasn't won over by the fries though - maybe it was the price (£6!). The kilo of beef was grilled nicely and cooked rare and juicy, but once again I couldn't really taste any smokiness to it. Still, it is a terrific cut of meat with a huge flavour. Is steak worth £71? Probably not, but I'd be happy to eat this again.

Chocolate fondant at Lurra

How we had room for dessert I have no idea, but we kept it relatively light. A scoop each of wonderfully flavoured banana ice cream and rhubarb ice cream (£2 each) really hit the spot. The chocolate fondant (£5.50) had a lustrous molten shine once the set shell was pierced. It was glorious.

Rhubarb ice cream at Lurra

We drank a fair amount which pushed up the bill, but I was catching up with a friend I hadn't seen in ages. The Placet (£49) and the Remelluri Reserva (£59) were both great, and we finished with a few glasses of PX, although at £6 for a small pour it was priced a bit on the steep side.

The measure of Pedro Ximenez at Lurra

I'm happy to say the service at Lurra did not invoke the trauma of Donastia, although the largely Spanish staff were a bit over-eager. If there are ever a few stray prawns or chorizo on a plate, I will eat them. I'm not called the Insatiable Eater for nothing. I found myself mentally slapping the plate-reaching wrists of the Lurra staff and I worry that one day I actually will lash out and probably end up with an assault charge. Watch this space.

Hide exterior

I wish we were reacquainting under better circumstances dear reader, but I'm back with an important PSA. To call Hide the worst restaurant I've been to in a long time is an overly generous assessment of this temple to disappointment. What happened to Ollie’s cooking? It was elegant and light and flavour-forward, but no longer. It’s been replaced by a safe, corporate vision and a production line approach of largely quick-to serve-dishes, necessitated (I guess) by the vast number of covers in this expensive corner of Mayfair. In the move from Fitzrovia, the kitchen left behind all traces of flavour. I’ve never encountered inedible dishes in a £100-plus tasting menu. Hide gave us two: suspiciously mushy blue fin tuna and a king crab devoid of all flavour and texture. Elsewhere the famous Dabbous coddled egg has been revamped for the worse and the great bread has morphed into a tasteless variety basket. We were trapped in this tasting menu mediocrity and only marginally comforted by modest markups on the expansive wine list. I suspect the professional pundits will praise it and Michelin will anoint it with a star (for the staircase alone), but Hide is no Dabbous. That place (RIP) was a breath of fresh air when it opened 5 years ago, but Hide just leaves you gasping to get out.

I’ll take the shit sandwich approach to this blog post: you know, start with some positive observations, follow with the negative and finish on another positive. The staff, predominantly male and French, impressed. They were already pretty well drilled on the menu despite being officially open only a few days (post weeks of “soft opening”). But what’s with having a single female server in the dining room? And why would you dress her in faux French farm girl garb with Seinfeld-esque puffy sleeves. She looked ridiculous and uncomfortable next to the elegantly attired gents.

Hide Above: pickled / preserved vegetables

That's the positive (ish) side of things. Now the food. Vegetables / Flesh & Bone / Bread & Broth: The tasting menu at Hide Above, begins with pickled veg. Carrots, turnips, beets and friends with slightly different styles of pickling all artfully arranged. Very Nordic, a little nouvelle, but...snore, not very original.  Leave this style to the Danes, who do it better. The house made cured meats – goose and pork – were pleasant enough, but weirdly served wrapped around feathers and fake bones. I guess it distracts from the small sized serving. A small bowl of mushroom broth was also served along with the bread basket (I'll get to that later).

Hide Above: what's avocado doing on a modern British menu?

Celeriac, avocado and angelica: a dish that maintained the cold pickled theme. A thin shaving of celeriac encased chopped avocado, and then surrounded by a chilled broth. The presentation was reminiscent of dim sum "money bags", which would have been tastier than this. A fair dish, but unless it's on toast, avocado has no place on a British menu. Food miles and seasonality be damned apparently.

Hide Above: inedible tuna

Raw tuna with prickly ash and Exmoor caviar: I'm convinced this dish was prepared well before serving since the tuna had a mushy texture and I question the quality of the caviar too. After a mouthful, we all stopped eating this. To his credit the maître d' asked why we did not finish, but suggested the tuna was from the same supplier as that to three-star Araki and delivered daily, so we must be wrong. I hate wasting food, but this was inedible.

Hide Above: nest egg with Campbell's Soup consistency

Nest egg: I was looking forward to reacquainting with the coddled egg, one of the signatures at Dabbous, but what once was luxurious and creamy has turned to stodge. Imagine the thickness of concentrated Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and you've reached the consistency of this serving. It left an unpleasant coating on the tongue.

Hide Above: snore-worthy sashimi

Two servings of Cornish fish (£16 supplement): After two really dud dishes in a row, our expectations went south. The sashimi, adorned with sea veg, wasn't particularly memorable. The  squid noodles were served with a warm broth. Fine, but again fairly ho hum.

Hide Above: strange-textured squid

Roast king crab, turnips, camomile honey and salted butter: How the kitchen managed to suck all the flavour and texture from the crab is mind boggling. What was served had the texture of a crab stick from a Chinese takeaway, but with less flavour. Where was the natural sweetness of the crab? That ridiculously luxurious texture? That a crab had to die for this dish is an absolute travesty.

Hide Above: that a crab was killed for this dish is a travesty

Barbecued organic Herdwick lamb, charred asparagus, savoury pine nut praline: uniformly cooked, probably sous vide, the lamb had no hint of the barbecue about it. Lamb fat is sweet and crispy when it touches a naked flame, but this was just soft and flabby. To an Aussie like me, serving lamb like this is sacrilegious. Ollie has kept the praline that was served with the Iberico pork dish at Dabbous (acorns then), but the pine nut flavours added little to this serving.

Hide Above: not-barbecued barbecued lamb

Garden ripple ice cream: when the pick of the dishes is the pre-dessert you know there's a problem. Fresh and bright and a little peppery, this was a clean, fresh break from the savoury courses thankfully.

Hide Above: When the pre-dessert is the best dish, something is really wrong.

Hide Jasmine & Wild Peaflower Religieuse; cold brew Jasmine Tea: You can salvage a meal with a killer dessert, but not at Hide. The cream filling of the choux was powdery, grainy and had separated - a sign that it was old.  As an aside, what happened to the baker? At Dabbous, the bread was served in dinky, date-stamped paper bags, still warm and moreish. At Hide, the approach to bread is more-is-more with various rolls, baguettes and slices in the basket, none of which had any flavour.

Hide Above: good choux, terrible split cream filling

So, that's a lot of filling for this sandwich, right? Time for something positive again. To its credit, Hide is a great place to drink. The wine list has the lightest mark ups over retail I've encountered. We drank a bottle of Jacquesson champagne at £75 a bottle, which is in my local bottle shop at £55. You would easily pay £150 elsewhere. The full Hedonism list is only 15 minutes away at £30 corkage.

The staircase is lovely

So how did Hide end up here? I'm assuming economics. There are 250 covers split over the three levels and it feels like at least 100 of them are Above. As a consequence, the tasting menu needs to set a pace, hence the prevalence of cold dishes. It feels more about co-ordination than cooking. Dabbous set a bar of expectation for Hide, and when it falls so far short - with inedible dishes and misjudged updates to classics - it's just so disappointing. As a great philosopher once wrote, ain't nobody got time for that.