Clockjack Oven - The romance of the rotisserie - Feb 2013

One of my favourite restaurant memories is that of a tiny little place in Paris called L'AOC. It's partly because I had a wonderfully romantic night there, with the most beautiful girl in the world, but mainly because you just can't compete with roasted meat.

The big selling point of atmospheric, soulful old L'AOC is their rotisserie. Enormous spits of chicken and pork, co-mingled juices dripping and covering lascivious slices of porous potato, thickly cut with rosemary and garlic, gently roasting in the meaty aftermath. After witnessing, and tasting, that you have to wonder how the Parisiens remain so thin (and also wonder who would ever want to eat a simple side salad again).

So imagine how delighted I was to hear that a rotisserie chicken restaurant had opened in Soho, on the site of the sadly missed New Piccadilly Cafe none the less. It must have been the easiest sell for finance in recent restaurant history. Let's just take every single restaurant trend and jam it into one. Chicken with more pedigree than a Crufts winner, a single item menu, no reservations and dude food you're encouraged to manhandle? It's all there. There are definitely eyes on a bigger prize here. Their parent company is called Clockjack Investments and they pre-emptively talk about 'their first restaurant', like they're going to be so busy rolling out new locations they may forget to update the website.

The place itself defines warehouse chic. Smooth wooden sharing tables with concrete walls and the odd flash of London Underground inspired tiling. If they don't make the rent in here, it's the work of minutes to pull out the large rotisserie unit behind the counter and slam in a branch of AllSaints instead. The bench seating is a little ungainly, though it's nice to watch the ebb and flow of Soho through the large windows to the front. Sadly, the large windows on the rotisseries mean you only get the occasional whiff of the slow cooking meat as it pirouettes around the heat. A parsimonious tease rather than tantalisation.

And the chicken? It's good. Really good. As good as you'd hope a free range chicken from a small farming co-operative in Brittany would taste. And for £19 a bird (with no sides), it bloody should be. Despite being nearly double the price of Nandos, an obvious target for comparison, that's not actually as much as it sounds, and it's a good sized beast that feeds two easily with a couple of plates of additional sides. Sadly none that we had were that memorable, but I wasn't complaining. We had a couple of pots of differing dips to spice up the meat though it didn't really need anything much, dense and fully flavoured with a sticky dark skin, it really was a good bird.

So does it compare to L'AOC? Sadly not. I have to withdraw my earlier statement. Shockingly it's not all about the rotisserie. The chicken might be good, but there's just no soul here. It's beyond fine for a quick lunch, but it's not somewhere I'd choose to linger long with the most beautiful girl in the world. 

   Photo half inched it off flickr, so if it's yours, please do let me know 

Naru - Korean treats in Holburn - Feb 213

This was a pleasingly unexpected little Korean place in an unfancied bit of Holborn that filled the spot perfectly.

Difficult to call on the accuracy of the cooking, I'm not a regular eater of Korean, which, considering the delicious menu I'm faced with, surprises me. I think that there's a trick missed in my dining life. A selection of stews, fried dishes, noodle dishes and the phrase I'm looking for, dolsot bibimbap, a (relatively) healthy dish served in a roasting hot stone bowl that I'm relying on to take away my Monday evening blues. Authentic or not, there's little else I recognise on the menu, often one of the best benchmarks for authenticity. 

A larger than expected portion of 'Crunch Chicken' sweetly and oddly tastes just like a gourmet version of a McDonald's Chicken McNugget. Noticeably sugared flesh beneath a light battered coating, it's surprising and not at all unpleasant, in a guilty pleasure sort of way. There's definitely a food dude marketing angle in this, it'd sell like, well hot chicken, in an East End foodie market. Come to think of it, I might try and get in there before anyone else notices! The obligatory side of kimchi, fermented and chilli infused cabbage, is a welcome contrast (if a little cold) cutting through the chicken and giving a needed contrast in texture.

The main event, that dolsot bibimbap, is enough to make me kick myself for not having it more often. It's a superb piece of simple cooking with some wonderful flavour and texture contrasts. Small piles of steamed and fragrant veggies are placed adjacent to each other for contrast, alongside a healthy portion of beef slivers, atop a bed of plain rice. The stone bowl, boiling hot from the oven, has been coated with sesame oil before being filled and the smell is outstanding. An egg yolk completes the dish, stirred into the browning, crispening rice and coating the meat and vegetables, cooking as it does to give the whole dish a light yellow sesame scented sheen. Cut through with more of that kimchi, this is truly a heartening and hearty winter dish.

The FoH team are friendly and unobtrusive, the decor is inoffensively pale, a mid range fairly generic Asian restaurant that could be anywhere or serving anything. It's not overly designed, but is functional and very comforting, like the food. Just round the back of the Shaftesbury Theatre, you're not going to find it on any glitzy hit lists, but that won't stop me going back and shouldn't stop you going, assuming you haven't already been.

                       

  

A Wong, Victoria - An interesting addition to London's Chinese restaurant scene - Feb 2013

The feng shui inside might be stunning but it's difficult to imagine many less auspicious locations in zone 1. A Wong sits like a slightly out of place squat granite and glass monolith among the mediocre lunchtime options and sandwich chains of Wilton Road. Laid back decor inside, a clean mix of Scandinavian woodwork and soft straight stone lines.

There are three menus, a lighter dim sum focussed lunch menu, a more substantial evening list and a tasting menu spanning the both. They all dip in and out of a range of regional specialisms, so Sichuan standards like Gong Bao chicken and dry fried beans rub noses with braised lettuce, Imperial dishes and Yangzhou fried rice.

Prices are reasonable across the board, though at £1.50 a piece the dim sum will mount up pretty quickly. It isn't the place for a weekend blow out, but then you're unlikely to see many people round here during the weekend other than the confused tourists disembarking from Victoria station. Of particular note is the express menu, with two courses, a drink (and two lovely salted caramel petits fours) for a very reasonable £12.95.

A trio of dim sum wouldn't usually come close to satisfying me, even as a starter, but these are monsters. That classic shrimp har gau, here at least half again as big as the tiddlers I'm used to in Chinatown, came with an innovative twist, a protective bubble coat of sharp citrus and yuzu foam. That other stalwart pork and prawn siu mai came with its own welcome innovation, a tiny sliver of puffed pork crackling, texturally complimenting the freshly steamed and freshly made parcel. A grease free and delightfully crispy pork wonton completed the set, as delightful a dim sum experience as I've had in this country.

Of the four or so mains offered with the express menu, I went for Sichuanese speciality dan dan mian, or peddler's noodles, named after the distinctive cooking pots they were served from by wandering street sellers. Whenever I've had it before, the soft minced beef, seasoned with those numbing Sichuan peppercorns, mixed with chunks of chilli, veggies and noodles has come in a spicy broth made of noodle water, Shaoshing rice wine and stock. Here it comes, with a few beansprouts and a single vegetable, in a thick meaty gravy, dumped over pedestrian noodles. Not unpleasant per se, but unexpectedly dry, overly rich and not much to my taste.

I'll be back, if not for the tasting menu, certainly for a more detailed examination of the evening menu and some more of that super sized dim sum. The sun was out, and the open plan airy space will be gorgeous come the summer. Let's hope that the locals can tear themselves away from Nando's and the infinitely inferior Dim T just up the road and support the new kid on the block.

  

John Salt - A bit of blogger navel gazing - Feb 2013

I held this one back as a special treat. I'd only gone and scored a table at John Salt. Only the most talked about, blogged and dissected restaurant this week! Proud as punch I was, presenting my booking like a child proffering a favourite toy. The boy done well.

"Brilliant..." sniffs the Vole haughtily. "There's hardly anything on that menu that I understand, much less like the look of. Oh, there's pig skin… I know why you want to bloody go.." After a more intense perusal, she begrudgingly points out a starter of burnt leeks with parmesan, egg yolk and truffle vinaigrette as being vaguely of interest. Of the rest; the bacon panna cotta (oh yes), the grilled salad, the multiple hashes and the cheeks and the bellies, the Vole was left distinctly cold. "Really? If we must…" Oh, we must...

It's a food-spotters and bloggers menu if ever there was one. Devised dishes described in a mash-up two-word list of current food trends. Raw this and that, 'Kimchi' here, 'chicken skin' there, 'pulled pork' everywhere... Check, check and mate, mate. That there's a pervading whiff of BBQ will come as little surprise to anyone who knows that chef Neil Rankin has hotfooted it over here from iconic meat Mecca Pitt Que, following a unfortunate turn of events between the owners and original kitchen prodigy Ben 'Roganic' Spalding. But of course if you're just a humble punter, you will neither know, nor care about this back story.

For the rest of you, the civilians still radiating bafflement at the one-word menu and the breathy introduction? Banish the gloom and forget about the 'nu-restaurant' wankery, you're in for a treat.

There's a seemingly more comfortable dining space upstairs, though we're relegated to slightly cramped and uncomfortable rough-hewn communal tables at the front, slotted in next to a mixed bag of trendy locals and slathering food spotters. Not ideal for a quiet date, and not something that they make a recommendation on when you book which feels odd. I'm also surprised that it's not as busy as the Twitterati would have you imagine. There's definitely room for walk ups, certainly in the loud downstairs bar space which serves a limited version of the same innovative menu.

And the food? Thankfully it's superb. Absolutely superb.

We go for (scratch that, I go for) a selection of the starter plates, topped off with a 'Red Flannel Hash'. Only on discussion with the serving dude do we realise that's a type of beetroot, roasted to perfection with floury roast potatoes and delicate peas and corn, topped with a panko-coated soft-boiled egg. Perfect comfort food, if irritatingly undecipherable from the menu alone.

Those burnt leeks were a smokey revelation, the flavour of the BBQ subtle but pervasive, mellowed out by creamy rich yolk. Tiny and delicately tempura'ed oysters were gone in a heartbeat, much like a large fresh dose of buttery crab with a wallop of fresh sea served on a slice of deep fried puffed-up pig skin more akin to a prawn cracker. Simple flavours combined well and packing a real punch. Genuine food that puts a smile on your face.

The best for me was a simple salad of raw beef and apple, with a hit of chilli oil and a nutty sweetness from scattered sesame. A perfect small plate and bargainous at a fiver. For the same price we also enjoyed a riff on Canadian monstrosity poutine, here made with hunks of fleshy pork belly and softly warming kimchi. The couple packed in next to us were overheard contemplating a second portion of this, I wholeheartedly agreed with their ambition and would have done likewise if I hadn't known the reaction my suggestion would get from my guest.

And that Bacon Panna Cotta to finish with was designed to fulfil almost all of my fantasies. Every bit as wrong (and as right) as you can imagine. Soft creamy panna cotta with just a hint of smokey bacon, topped with crushed nuts and maple syrup. Absolutely heavenly.

I'm also delighted to say that it's very well priced for this quality of innovative cooking. Even with a (frankly poor and astringent) bottle of house white and (much better) service, the tab only came to £67. It certainly lived up to the hype, though I'm glad to say that it's not as crowded as expected (and as it deserves to be, but these are early days). Next time however I'll be going for a seat upstairs. Don't be put off by the cooler than thou menu, you can ask questions. Come and join the food spotters…