The Anchor and Hope in Waterloo - Perfection revisited May 2013

I don't say it often, but dinner at the Hope and Anchor is practically perfect in every way. It's been a while since I'd been, and longer since I'd written about it, so thought that a re-review was due. I'm very pleased to say that its place in my personal grubby, food stained list of London's dirty, sexy and cool restaurants is still assured. If this review sounds smug in any way, that's because it is. I'm still purring like a contented cat a week later...

If you can't cope with the recycled pub schtick, the buzz and irritations of tightly packed, shared tables or are looking for a quiet romantic dinner (at least one that doesn't involve sucking meat juice from your fingers) then steer clear. If you're fond of being hypercritical, you'll be pleased to know it's also unsurprisingly difficult to get a table, even early week, so either get there really, really early or be prepared to wait in the over spilling and rowdy bar. Whinge about that, because you won't be whinging about much else.

Arriving late we were lucky enough to stroll straight in. Skipping the usual wait at the bar with it's attendant reasonably priced (if basic) cocktails and well kept pints, we opted for a lovely drop of spicy Douro from the shallow end of the wine list as we took to our rickety wooden chairs at the brushed wood shared farmhouse table at the front. For the Farmer, this was home away from countryside home, particularly when he'd settled long enough to peruse the single sheet menu with its gruff single word descriptors of fish, flesh and fowl.

Hunks of fresh tangy sourdough with a huge pot of butter were followed by fresh, fragrant and wonderful British asparagus, succulent green vestal virgins dipped in a fresh buttery mayonnaise and decapitated as quickly as we could get them down our greedy little necks.
  

Coming down to the mains eyes and bellies just couldn't resist the whole mustard braised rabbit for two to share. A quick check before committing for both of us - "How's the rabbit? Worth it?" The waiter's smiling eyes glazed over as under his breath he muttered "it's absolutely fucking beautiful guys". The staff are utterly delightful - when you ask opinions, you really get them. They smile as they reel off the staff dinner menu from last week, smile as they advise a cheaper wine than we were planning on and genuinely seem to love working there. And who wouldn't with this kitchen? I'm tempted to pay for a job here, just to guarantee tasting this food daily, though I'd struggle to get through the tightly packed tables after a week or so of it.

As well as raising a delightful herd of rare breed beef (and an equally delightful family) the Farmer has the most marvellous day job. He's a classically trained singer for hire (like a gun for hire but with marginally better better life prospects). It'd be a cliche, though not entirely untrue, if I said he was loudly singing in praise of the Anchor and Hope. That being said, there was definitely a contented hum from us both as we sucked the last bones dry. Soft, slow braised bunny in a creamy sauce sopped up with triple cooked chips. It's never been the healthy option, but when it tastes this good you just don't care.

 

A review of Railway themed Bangalore Express - Apr 2012

A railway themed curry house right next door to a major train terminus. What could be right about that sentence?

Compared to some of the Indian railway cafe themed establishments such as Dishoom and Roti Chai that have sprung up since Bangalore opened, the decor could only politely be described as lacking somewhat. Double decked railway carriage dining built into the wall and accessed by bunkbed steps might appeal to teens but it's not in itself a reason for the rest of us to stop by, especially in somewhere as well stocked with restaurants as Waterloo. 

Initial signs aren't good. We're jammed in behind the waiters station, the table cleared as we sit. While the dips that come with a basket of poppodoms are interestingly different (though not close to the South Indian delights of Ganapati), with beetroot chutney and a raw garlic number, they're preprepared and look like they've been around for a while.

The main menu is all kinds of confused. While a range of starters will be familiar enough to most people, the mains fall into two broad swathes. Half span different curry cuisines from around the world, covering African, South East Asian and the Indian subcontinent. The 'curry house' korma and vindaloo that your middle aged British parents would be looking for are served in a pick your meat n mix your curry sauce section at the bottom. It seems an odd thing to advertise, given that many cheaper quality establishments prepare vats of generic sauces and add meat on demand, losing the flavours and tenderness that often come from the cooking process but saving cost and waste.

And the food? While I don't think I'd make a deliberate trip back, it definitely wasn't the worst curry I've had, damning it with faint praise... We shared a hot and sour prawn curry from South India, a nicely balanced bowl of earthy, peppery black dhal and some manner of cold sweet potato salad. All pleasant enough but nothing more than the sort of weeknight standby served up by competent home chefs with a rudimentary grasp of spicing. Not the end of the world, but not what you want to be paying £20 odd a head for. 

   

A review of so-so Thai Silk - Feb 2011

Where: Thai Silk, Waterloo

How much: £9 gets you a very good value pre-theatre meal, you'll get away with under £20 for (most) other 3 course combinations 
With who: Dr Vole
Come here if: you fancy relatively subdued Thai food prior to a show at the Old or New Vic

Needing a bite to eat before a horrifically pretentious evening at the theatre, Dr Vole and I fancied something different to our standby choices around Waterloo and headed to Thai Silk (the clue's in the name) down the tiny tree lined walkway of Joan Street, just behind Southwark tube. 

I've always been a fan of spicy, aromatic and (whisper it) healthy Thai cooking, though have struggled to find anywhere that really hits the mark. I'm aware that there are a fair few in London, including Alan Yau's gourmet chain Busaba Eathai, but none of them (with the possible exception of Clapham's Pepper Tree) have really done it for me. Sadly, I don't think I've found the holy grail here. 

The cavernous space has been fashioned into a restaurant and a bar out of a double railway arch and should be capable of holding a good few hundred at a time. The atmosphere is edged by a strong lemon smell, slightly off-putting at first. Slightly more incongruous are the large flatscreen TVs. Ideal for the party of lads not wanting to miss out on Man Utd's shock defeat to Wolves, but it didn't really help create any sort of authentic Thai vibe. 

Arriving at 6.30, we were only offered the set menu. I don't know whether that's an assumption, or the only thing you can order at that time, but it looked good value at £8.95 a head, and had several dishes both of us found interesting enough not to ask for the a la carte menu. The starters came as a sharing platter. More M&S than Iceland, it still felt close enough to a pre-prepared set. The chicken satay skewers were pleasant enough, though the fish cakes were flaccid and greasy and the fried spring rolls relatively uninspired. The mains were substantial. Two big dishes each came with a heaped pile of noodles, rice and a large side plate of steaming oyster sauce braised vegetables. You certainly get value for your money. The chicken Green Curry was certainly chock full of chook, piles of tender, braised protein in the coconut and lemongrass infused sauce. Pleasant enough, it just didn't really deliver the kick it should. The other main was a wok fried duck dish served with greens. Again a hearty portion, just lacking in the rich flavour you'd hope for from a dish like this.

It's a shame, as the price and location puts it firmly into the hidden gem category, but the food just didn't have enough oomph to make me want to return.

Birthday lunch at the Anchor & Hope - October 2010

Where: The Anchor and Hope, Waterloo
With who: The Vole, Nico Polo, The Book Queen and Mr Rock and Roll 
How much: £25 a head for mains, dessert and drinks, mains around £12 - £16

Living relatively close and spending a lot of time around South East London, I've made a fair few visits to and given many more recommendations of the Anchor and Hope. These have been inspired more by my own experiences than the rave reviews whenever it gets covered - I had to dig out this very out of character and slightly creepy loving review by Giles Coren, even though it makes me feel a little bit embarrassed, somewhat like hearing an elderly and curmudgeonly uncle recite erotic poetry to a beautiful young girl. 

It's a pleasingly comfortable deep red space, built out of the base of a horrific 60's block on The Cut, just down from the Old Vic and virtually next door to the Young Vic. Despite the restaurants (it's also home to Meson Don Philipe, Livebait, Baltic, at least 2 species of Tas and many others) and theatres, it is still a residential area, attested to by the loud children playing knock-door-run (or some felonious version thereof) with the local shopkeep.  

The local crowd, large even on an early lunchtime, look like they've just come from a performance at the slightly arthousey Young Vic next door. They know i

t's important to get in early as they don't take bookings. By 12.30 you can see why. It's absolutely rammed, all rickety rough sanded tables in the snug dining room taken, many other wanna-eats crowding the similar sized bar on the other side, chugging back early pints of Youngs Broadside while they wait for a table. We popped in on the off-chance having met here for a beer, were tempted to stay, and helped out by the friendly staff who found a table within minutes.

You can see the influences and shared heritage from places like St John. From the casual tumblers of tap water (brought unrequested with no bottled water upsell) and wine to the portions of 

beautifully soft, chewy sourdough that whet our appetites, it's unfussy, uncomplicated, casual dining. The menu is focussed around game and offal, with a few fish dishes (though not much for vegetarians) and I've got to say that I hadn't been looking forward to a main 

course as much as this for some time. 

With so many things on the seasonal menu I knew whatever I went for I'd be envious of the rest. The h

are ragout with semolina gnocchi sang to me from the list, but was rather disappointing in delivery. The ragout was packed full of flavour, the hare slow braised to tender gamey perfection, but the sauce was a little too stew-like for me, the juice a little too light, and the semolina 'gnocchi' a slightly tasteless slab that didn't soak up enough of the juice. Two of the others had the 

confit of duck, dark soft flesh flaking off the bone, skin salty and crisp. We shared a generous portion of 

buttery greens, unnecessary due to the large portions but eaten swiftly. The puddings were excellent. A tart and sticky damson bakewell tart came hot from the oven and lasted seconds. Nico Polo's pistachio cake was pronounced similarly excellent.  

Don't be put off by the potential for a wait if you don't live locally. It's a laidback place worth travelling for, so turn up, relax at the bar and put your name down. Surely you're with someone you can have a couple of relaxed drinks with? And besides, the best things come to those who wait.