The Spice Trail was laid out before us; our duty was simply to follow…
So began our journey through eight courses at Spice Lab Tokyo. The premise was slightly outrageous – “the perfect union of new India and Japanese sensibilities” – but definitely intriguing and, from the first mouthful – a beautiful tomato jelly presented as an “Offering” to the “Temple” – it promised to deliver.
We moved on through tamarind-spiked pineapple to a plate of street food “classics” with a twist – chaat as ooba (perilla leaf) tempura with tamarind, mint and yoghurt; the bao with tamarind chicken; the samosa with five-spiced lamb.
Heading toward the Coastline, we encountered mustard ayu, followed by a plum and cumin palate cleanser, and succeeded by the”Emperor”. This was a dish that truly deserved to rule – pillow soft chicken breast cooked at low temperature, morels, broad beans, cashew nuts, fenugreek and saikyo miso (sweet white miso).
Then arrived the biryani cooked in bamboo and filled with summer vegetables and begging for seconds in its own right, and then thirds and fourths when smothered with its accompanying dishes of a fresh avocado and aubergine raita, a peanut and tamarind curry, and a rich and creamy mung bean dal,
If this sounds like a lot of food, you should be aware that all this comes with four kinds of kulcha (Indian leavened flatbread): butter, hojicha (roasted green tea), edamame and blue cheese, and sundried tomato and basil (the ultimate Indian pizza). Whatever combination of rice, sauce, or kulcha, the variety and depths of flavours took me down avenues of adventures, and led my Indian companions down memory lane.
By the time we got to the chocolate chickpea laddu with mango sorbet and passion fruit, I knew I needed to study – fill my ignorance of Indian cuisines. I also knew that the Spice Trail was actually a pilgrimage.
Fortunately, at the end of our meal. we were able to directly pay homage to Chef Tejas Sovani, who worked at Noma among others. He immediately returned our praise with a question: “Were you sceptical before you came?” When pressed on why he would ask, he explains that many do not believe delicate Japanese and robust Indian flavours could ever be married successfully. Indeed, it took hours of experimenting to perfect but Sovani has carved out an exciting new culinary path, and you would be foolish not to embark on the journey.
There are times when you have a meal so perfect that you’re almost afraid to eat again because you know that your next meal could never match it. Dining at Taka Goryokaku was one of those experiences. This was where my friend held her wedding dinner last year and it had left an impression – another opportunity to dine there was not to be passed up.
We had a reservation for 7.30pm, and arrived to find ourselves the only party there. We shed our shoes and stepped up into a hallway as if into someone’s house. Guided into a private room, a menu detailing our courses was laid out before us, but the dining experience was already well underway.
Taka Goryokoku – taking the latter half of its name from the nearby star-shaped fortress – is run by chef-owner Takatoshi Fukui, who spent a year and half training in both France and Switzerland, returning to Japan to hone his Japanese-style French cuisine. This harmonious approach to two of the world’s finest cuisines is immediately apparent from the openers.
While sipping on our beverages of choices, we were presented with the amuse-bouches. The “s” isn’t a typo – for unlike some stupidly pretentious experiences (Joël Robuchon, I am looking at you), we were presented with a vast selection: ebi-bouzushi – prawn sushi, wrapped in pink turnip and pickled chrysanthemum, the vibrant colours sparking as sharply as the vinegar in the rice; turnip mousse topped with consommé jelly and tomato – a feat of umami; rum raisin cream cheese encased in a light pastry; potato salad enhanced with tuna and onion, topped with tantalisingly soft-boiled egg; quiche loirraine so well-balanced it would be sure to win a competition.
These were followed by a second amuse-bouche – for the selection was classed as one – with a burdock cappuccino, lightly frothed and effortlessly moreish.
Next up, Taka’s pastry skills were in show once again. A puff pastry pie appeared, the crisp topping flaking satisfyingly as it gave way to the spoon to reveal juicy prawns awaiting below.
Succulent trout with expertly crisped skin bathed in a cream beetroot sauce and mildly sweet bamboo shoots. This triumph was hotly contested by a fillet of beef that yielded to the knife like butter; fried asparagus, matsutake mushrooms and a simple potato gratin all played competent supporting roles.
Finally, we had to face that it was time for this gastronomic adventure to come to a close. Representing Japan, a sakura tiramisu, with red beans and matcha, nestled alongside a cheesecake-style stick of crema catalana that successfully held the sugar at arm’s length, and was complemented by a strawberry compote. Yet our stomachs were to compete a little longer – black sesame biscuits and meringues accompanied our coffees.
My father asked me to translate “I’m in heaven and you’re an angel” to Taka as we showered him with our appreciation. He grinned from ear to ear and said he’d never been complimented so much. Guess we’ll have to go annually to make sure he gets used to it. This is an essential dining experience in Hakodate and one I certainly intend to repeat. Taka 五稜郭 (Taka Goryokaku)
25-12 Goryōkakuchō, Hakodate, Hokkaido 040-0001
0138-83-5777
Have you ever been in need of an izakaya that was reasonably priced by reasonably healthy? Where the atmosphere is casual yet comfortable?
Well, Obanzai Nana is your answer…I’ve now hit up their Shibuya store (opposite BIC Camera) three times and delighted whoever I’ve introduced.
A good friend of me let me on this secret as she’s a big veggie fan. Nana will sort you out with veggies, pickles, grilled fish, tofu. Nothing is overly sweet, although I did order some grilled chicken once that could have oiled my bicycle for a year…
Obanzai itself refers to a kind of traditional cuisine from Kyoto, in which at least half the ingredients must be produced and processed in Kyoto, and be seasonal. Obanzai Nana is a very small chain, ironically with no stores in Kyoto but I guess they have plenty of obanzai restaurants there already… Continue reading “Obanzai Nana, Shibuya / おばんざい 菜な、渋谷”
As you may remember, I get very strong cravings for Indian food lately and to say that these have yet to be satisfied would be an understatement – I was so disappointed with one meal that I refused to pay for all of it.
But I’d spied an Indian friend on Facebook dining at a place called Priya, and I thought maybe my luck was finally in. On a particularly rainy, stormy and miserable day, my accomplices and I dripped and shivered our way over to Hiroo and our noses were immediately greeted by warm, spicy and enticing scents. Continue reading “Review: Priya, Hiroo, Tokyo”
It finally happened. I’ve reached an age where I’ve conquered my self-doubt to be confident enough to protest paying for a meal when it’s not up to scratch. Even so, it takes a bit of steeling and it can leave a taste that is worse than the food.
I guess it’s a symptom of the age we live in that I’m suspicious of anything that doesn’t have a Wikipedia page on it. ‘Nikkei cuisine’ simply doesn’t exist. Some rudimentary Internet searches, although not the most fruitful, do give it come patchy context.
Originating from Peru, Nikkei cuisine is a hybrid of Japanese and Peruvian ingredients using Japanese preparation techniques and usually prepared by Japanese descendants. Apparently, this has been going on for the past 120 years and Lima is bustling with Nikkei restaurants, which is perhaps not surprising given Peru has the second highest Japanese population in South America.
Japanese food is forever trendy in the UK, but for the first time ever, a Peruvian restaurant won a Michelin star this September – Lima in central London. Some kind of Peruvian-Japanese hybrid, therefore, seems perfectly timed to cause an explosion in gastronomic gossip.
Swanky
Oooh what’s up there?
Chotto Matte is certainly trying to make a statement. It is huge – three-floors of dimly-lit swankiness on Soho’s Frith Street. Its aesthetics range from the polished minimalism of a high-end hotel to the currently hip industrialism with some graffiti-inspired art. The result, sadly, is a little clinical and cold, and doesn’t inspire appetite; when it’s empty, it feels like kind of place where lonely people clutch their drinks in the hope that alcohol might magic company, but warmth and liveliness do seep through once the room fills up.
Our welcome also sent out some mixed messages. My dining partner and I were greeted by the front-of-house who wished us a pleasant meal whilst reminding us that we had our table for two hours only. How subtle. How relaxing.
We were then squeezed onto a tiny table and approached by a waiter who could only be described as a bounding puppy. He greeted us with such a wide, friendly grin and unadulterated enthusiasm that we couldn’t help but smile. That was, until he failed to leave us alone.
We’d barely sat for a minute before he approached us an encouraged us to order. Thirty seconds later he returned. We opened our menus and he was back again. We touched the drink menus and he pounced again. If he hadn’t had looked so eager to please, we might have suspected that we were being forced to order.
Tacos
We ordered a cocktails – which were both light and refreshing – whilst attempting to peruse the menu. Feeling slightly anxious and pressured, we ordered a ‘while you wait’ – a taco selection for £6.95. Then we hastily settled on Nikkei Tasting Menu I (£35, now listed as £40) and Nikkei Tasting Menu II (£45). Little did we know, we would have no time to relax before the dishes rained down on us with such dizzying speed.
Our waiter approached us and handed us two taco selections. One is included in the tasting menu, he explained, and the other was the extra starter we’d ordered. Laughing, he put them down, until I quite bluntly said that one would suffice!
The taco selection was, fortunately, very tasty, and we worked our way through snow crab yuzu and miso vegetables. The only minor problem was the tune spicy miso – served raw- was quite fishy, which suggested it wasn’t the freshest and so we tactfully left it.
Torching the salmon!
Next up, we got quite excited when a waitress approached the table with a blow torch and cooked the aburi salmón before our eyes. It was delicious as well as gimmicky.
Overall, the dishes varied from really interesting or just plain bizarre. The most successful dishes involved seafood. The seafood ceviche – prawn, scallop, seabass, sweet potato, Peruvian corn, coriander, chive oil, citrus sauce – was amazingly zingy and fresh, and the Bacalao negro aji miso (black cod, yellow chilli miso) was wonderfully subtle. The triumph had to be Corbina shiso salsa (seabass, shiso, chilli, onion, ponzu), which made me re-think my hatred of that potent, citrus sauce and indeed nearly had me licking the plate.
Black cod with yellow chilli miso
Seafood ceviche
The star: seabass deliciousness
The meat, however, didn’t quite make it as credible ‘fusion’ cuisine. The lamb chop was tasty if minuscule and the gyoza (dumplings) were hardly complemented by aji amarillo (yellow chilli pepper). The greatest sin was was the lomo saltado maki rolls. Lomo saltado is a classic Peruvian dish of stir-fried beef with onions, tomatoes and potatoes, and it should never – I repeat, NEVER – be wrapped in seaweed.
Gyoza
Lamb with quinoa
Nevertheless, this dish did provide salvation on our evening. Our over-enthusiastic waiter was becoming so overbearing that we could barely enjoy our dishes. We had a confusingly large number of waiters throughout the evening, who would explain every platter they brought us. Our main waiter, however, seemed oblivious to the practice and painstakingly went over each dish in rather poor English. He regularly popped up and asked us how our dish was before we’d had a chance to sample it!
It got to the point where my co-diner and I were so on edge and stressed out that we were hardly conversing. Our waiter approached again and we both winced.
“How were the maki rolls?” he beamed.
My polite customer veneer cracked and I told him that, unfortunately, the lomo saltado ones just didn’t work at all. He nodded keenly until my words began to sink in, and slowly, very slowly, the smile began to slide from his face. He made a half-grimace and hastily retreated without another word.
I looked at my co-diner. “I think I just kicked a puppy.”
Lomo saltado maki rolls – CRIMES to Peruvian and Japanese cuisine
After this incident, we were able to enjoy a much more peaceful meal and were given a free choice of dessert. I quickly polished off a salted caramel chocolate fondant with great relish.
Salted caramel chocolate fondant
We finished the meal in high spirits. The tasting menus were undeniably fun and the flavours definitely intrigue and amuse even if they don’t always seamlessly blend. However, the service and cramped tables detracted from the experience. At upwards of £50 a head for a meal and a drink, Chotto Matte needs to sharpen up. With these issues sorted, we’d happily give Nikkei cuisine a second chance.
Pretty crème brûlée
Chotto Matte 3/5 – So trendy, quite tasty, but just a tad mixed up.
Food 3.5/5 – Some of it was really good. And some of it just was just… strange. Value 2.5/5 – Priiiiiicey, but decent quality. Service 2.5/5 – So polite and well-intentioned, but such a car crash! Atmosphere 2.5/5 – Stressful, if popular.
Website:http://www.chotto-matte.com/ Where: 11–13 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RB When: Mon – Sat 5pm – 1.30am; Sun 5pm – midnight
Inamo is not a place to go if you need to catch up with an old friend. I made that mistake. I hadn’t seen said friend in three years. I looked at him, ready to engage in an update of everything that had happened in our recent pasts. But then my gaze drifted down towards the table and I was a moth to a flame: all I could do was to stare in fascination at the interactive menu.
Each table has a projector above it, which beams down the menu and all kind of gimmicks that are guaranteed to entertain for hours. We set mood lighting. Purple, then blue. We turned our table into a cake display. We turned it into beautiful mountain scenery. We even discovered games!
CAKE!
The screens are addictive, and really, really fun. They may kill your conversation, but you may still communicate through squeals of excitement at the pretty images appearing before you.
A rumbling stomach, however, is a good reminder of why you’re there in the first place: to eat. The food is Asian-fusion with Thai, Japansese, Korean, Malaysian and Chinese dishes, and although beautifully presented, the prices would make anyone who has been to Asia cry. Fortunately, the two-courses for £15 (before 19:15) menu represents good value, even if the choices are limited.
Spicy aubergine
We started with some Spicy Aubergine (£5.25) which are fried with pinyin (“cloud ear” similar to a black mushroom). Fairly simple but aubergines can seem like the king of delicacies if cooked well. These were very pleasing indeed.
Chicken satay
We also sampled the Chicken Satay (£6.50), which were moist and served with a surprisingly light peanut satay sauce.
Pork neck
For mains, I took Berkshire Pork Neck (£14.75) described as ‘Slow braised tender pork neck served with confit of apple, spicy chocolate sauce, red wine reduction & crushed wasabi peas.’ There were a lot of interesting flavours going on here but it might have been a little too ambitious – they didn’t quite all fit together and the apple didn’t appear to be more than simply chopped apple. Overall, it was enjoyable but in need of a slight re-think, especially as the chocolate flavour was not detectable.
Thai red curry
My co-diner tucked into the Thai Red Curry (£13.75), a standard creamy coconut curry with butternut squash, mangetout and mushrooms. The sauce was rich and nuanced – pleasing but not revolutionary.
Inamo is fun and chic. If you have a higher budget, its menu sounds tantalising – who could refuse Soft Shell Crab Maki Rolls and Hot Stone Rib-Eye? Or if you want to feel like a god and project landscapes across the table, then it’s also worth a visit.
Inamo Soho 3/5 – Fun and stylish Asian-fusion food but be prepared to pay for the novelty of interactive menus.
Food 3/5 – Imaginative but in need of refining. Value 2/5 – Good quality, but definitely pricey. Atmosphere 3/5 – Maybe lunch isn’t a big thing, but there wasn’t anyone there! But when you have mood lighting, who needs people?! Service 3/5 – A little slow at the beginning – they hadn’t switched our screens on, and therefore we had no way of ‘calling’ the waiters!
Sorry for my absence! I have been writing a dissertation. This has meant just as much eating as normal, but it also meant that any writing was limited to academic rather than foodie topics. However, I am now FREE!
Anywaaay…. just a short welcome back post for now.
Life throws up a lot of little ironies along the way. The night before I flew to Istanbul, I was invited for a Turkish meal at Pasha in Islington for a friend’s birthday.
We ordered the Pasha dinner set for £12.95, which entails a range of hot and cold mezze with pitta bread and some meat and falafel as a main.
The mezze were pleasant – the hummus, babaganoushe, and cacik – although it’s pretty hard to get these completely wrong. However, the meats were incredibly underwhelming and not of the best quality. And I guess it wasn’t that surprising at that price. In this country. *sigh* (Istanbul posts coming later!)
What I will recommend, though, is the pistachio and cinnamon ice-cream. SO DELICIOUS.
It may look simple but it was simply great!
Pasha – Eat the mezze, then jump straight to dessert! 😉
Oh, what’s this? A review of a Michelin-recommended restaurant? How is Pheebz affording this, then? Well…
1) I had a Groupon voucher that gave me £40 of food for just £20.
2) The food is really not that outrageously priced, especially for the quality and portion sizes.
We were sat in a chic, modern and airy restaurant and presented with a tantalising menu. A very friendly and genuine waiter came to take our order.
As this is an upmarket place, little complimentary items arrived. Not only did we get some fresh bread, but we got miniature… plant pots.
Super kawaii! ^_^
Plant pot – everything is edible save the pot 😉
Yes, once we’d done the obligatory squealing at its cuteness (I have spent too much time in Japan where anything small is automatically cute), we investigated this beautiful presentation. The pot was filled with a mayonnaise-like sauce, and covered in “earth” – soya pieces. Little veggies were then artfully arranged. My co-diner found the dip a little tangy and peculiar, especially as the veggies weren’t enough to eat all of it, but I’m a sauce-fiend so I ploughed through it in seconds.
For starters, we tucked into artichoke soup (~£6?). It had a very mild and slightly earthy flavour, but we really appreciated its subtlety. Plus, the portion size was very generous.
Artichoke soup
The main course meant I ended up like this:
OMG STEAK FANGIRL MOMENT
You may already know that I am OBSESSED with beef. Obsessed. My mother craved it when she was pregnant with me and I therefore blame her for my carnivorous addiction. The smell of roast beef in the oven results in me half-stumbling and drooling towards the kitchen and hanging around vacantly until the beef is served on the table.
Therefore, when I saw Bone-In Rib-Eye Steak and Chips (£27) and I remembered my lovely Groupon offer, my excitement was extreme. Behold this glorious piece of meat and admire its 300g of beauty:
I am in love with this whopper
The steak was succulent, flavoursome, tender – and perfectly cooked. In short, it was everything I could have wanted from a steak. Not even the rather strange Café de Paris butter could detract from its majesty – although a garlic butter accompaniment might have elevated it even further. It was still, however, the finest steak I’ve eaten in a while.
Top this off with expertly crisp chips and perfect vegetables, and this was heaven. Quite often restaurants let themselves down on the vegetables – poor quality, bland and/or overcooked. Not One Blenheim Terrace – the asparagus and spinach (£4.50 each) really were mouthwatering.
Veggie heaven
Veggie heaven
For dessert, I took deep-fried Oreos with vanilla ice-cream (£6), which, despite sounding gloriously gluttonous, I actually found a little bit unexciting.
Deep-fried Oreos
My co-diner took freshly-made Madeleines – simple little sponge cakes – with a rich, chocolatey hot sauce (£4). This was by far the better choice for the quality chocolate hit and for the price.
Madeleines with hot chocolate hotness
Just when we thought the delights were over, we were presented with complimentary chocolate brownies to take home.
Yay for complimentary brownies!
All packed up for home
All this was accompanied by really warm service. One minor gripe – we paid with cash, including tip, and a waiter who hadn’t served us ‘forgot’ to bring us out £4 of change. A little bit of a disappointing ending to what was a fantastic meal.
One Blenheim Terrace 4/5 – Great portions and great quality. Beef-lovers – go and eat their steak. And take me, please.
Food 4.5/5 – Delicious. Value 4/5 – For the quality and portion-size, I won’t complain. Atmosphere 4/5 – Laid back. Service 4/5 – A really lovely team, save for the one waiter at the end of the meal.
There are few things that one can rely on in life, but the ubiquity of Chinese restaurants and takeaways in the UK is one of them. The Brits have long had a love affair with Chinese cuisine and the choices for dining in London are diverse. For those who will happily dive into florescent sweet-and-sour chicken from any corner shop, then this overwhelming choice is not a problem but a paradise. Yet for the more discerning diner, the variety can seem impossible to navigate.
Please do not panic. To avoid these greasy pitfalls, begin your gastronomic journey at Royal China.
We visited Baker Street, the largest restaurant in the Royal China group that owns six restaurants across London. The inside is nothing spectacular – the usual circular tables are crammed into a large room with the usual ostentatious décor, adding splashes of red and gold. There’s not much to distinguish it from any run-of-the-mill Chinese. That is until you see the menu.
A devoted foodie will be pleased to note two things. Firstly, there’s a good choice but not too much choice: sauces vary depending on the meat or fish and there is no indiscriminate splattering of black bean sauce across any source of protein, which strongly suggests some thought has gone into the menu. Secondly, the dishes are priced above those formerly-mentioned restaurants of dubious integrity (though, very fortunately, they are not beyond the means of students).
Baked Pork Chop with Mandarin Sauce
For starters, we sampled the Baked Pork Chop with Mandarin Sauce (£7.80), which was easily large enough to be eaten as a main. The sauce was thick and sweet as expected, but never became cloying. Inevitably, the dish disappeared rapidly and with great satisfaction.
Steamed Chicken with Mushroom and Chinese Sausag
For mains, my co-diner ordered the Steamed Chicken (half) with Mushroom and Chinese Sausage (£12.80). This was a misleading description that conjured a vision of half a bird with tender meat ready to be pulled off the bones. Instead chunks of chicken arrived on a large leaf. Disappointment aside, the sauce itself was light and tangy – a refreshing contrast to our starter – but it didn’t compliment the Chinese sausage. Nevertheless, the flavours grew over time and it was enjoyable.
autéed Pak Choi with Garlic
We also ordered a side of Sautéed Pak Choi with Garlic (£8.80). Pak choi can be incredibly delicious if cooked so as to balance their bitterness with the right amount of saltiness or sweetness. Sadly these were underwhelming and forgettable, and rather overpriced. Our meal was also let down by the Egg Fried Rice (£3.20), which was unremarkable, but provided an adequate base for our dishes.
Braised Beef with Chillies
It was my main course that truly was the pièce de résistance: Braised Beef with Chillies from the Chef’s Specials menu, served bubbling in a pot above a flame. At around £16, this dish was not cheap but it was worth every last meaty mouthful. The beef was fatty but tender and succulent, and expertly braised in a salty, moreish sauce. The spices were perfect – the chillies provided a slow-burning warmth and the aniseed mildly provoked the tongue but didn’t overwhelm the other flavours. The dish reminded me of some of the food I sampled in Taiwan, and whilst I can’t claim to be an expert on authenticity, I though this dish was pretty close to the target.
Black Sesame Paste in Peanut Crumbs
Unable to stop there, we tucked into Black Sesame Paste in Peanut Crumbs (£5.00). This consisted of three slightly chewy, glutinous rice cakes, filled with a smooth warm sesame sauce. For those unfamiliar with Asian-style desserts, this undoubtedly sounds a little strange but it is really worth trying for its mild sweetness and subtle flavours.
Our enjoyment of our dining experience was only diminished by the unreliable service. Some waiters and waitresses were very attentive and helpful in describing the particulars of dishes, yet others seemed to deliberately ignore us or only spoke limited English. Due to this, my main was missing in action for 45 minutes despite my frequent requests.
Whilst the service could be improved and some dishes fell short of expectations, the overall food quality could not be denied. Royal China isn’t China, but it deserves recognition for some royally good meat dishes and some sauces that will make you want to lick your plate clean in a very un-royal manner indeed.
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I also went on another visit and I tried:
Pan Fried Stuffed Eggplant with Minced Shrimp and Black Bean Sauce (£10.20)
Sautéed Beef with Ginger and Spring Onion (£8.80)
Both of these were phenomenal and highly recommended. Particularly the aubergine. A bit different and totally worth trying!
Pheebz Eatz 