1 Lombard Street

1 Lombard Street
London
EC3V 9AA



Having shed its Michelin Star in 2009, 1 Lombard Street seems to be rallying to regain its favour with diners. Located in the Square Mile, where dining without an expense account is unthinkable, the restaurant is currently offering a '5 course' menu for £19.50 in its brasserie to win over new custom. Really the menu is 3.5 courses, but I jump ahead of myself.



Bread is served promptly with butter. A selection of wholemeal and white bread with caraway seeds. Chewy and moist, it's good, but not great. Certainly not Michelin great.



The a la carte menu offers a plethora of dishes, vegetarian and omnivorous alike.



Meals are described in fanciful terms, but the protein/starch/greens combinatorics underpin an easily recognisable modern-euro menu.





The chef's dishes of the day sound delicious, but from the lengthy selection it seems they don't actually rotate daily. Your reporter could be wrong on this point.



Dinky small portions of flaky sea salt and coarsely crushed pepper are set out on the table. I personally believe that if these are present, they should be served with salt-spoons. Asking diners to grab salt and pepper with their fingers is just asking for an outbreak of something nasty.



First up: potato and young garlic leaf soup with toasted pumpkin seed oil.



The soup is velvety and smooth - the perfect texture. Without a spoon to use, it clung lovingly to the sides of the espresso cup. The flavour was mild with distinctive but mellow hints of garlic, reminiscent of sweet garlic scapes. The pumpkin seed oil assaults the nose and the palate in a firm, but gentle manner - akin to being marched through the complex flavours without being allowed to stop and savour each element. Less fancifully, it tasted like toasted sesame oil, but with pumpkin instead of sesame.



An interlude to stare at the decor before the next course: built in a former bank, the brasserie is smartly decorated with friendly lighting and comfortable seating. The tables are not crushed into every space, and there is an opulent 360 degree bar in the centre of the room beneath the light well for those with serious expense accounts.



Asian seared prime salmon with blah blah blah. As we'd only glanced briefly at the verbose menu, we could only guess at the accompliments, which made for very interesting conversation. The salmon was grilled and topped with a deep fried leaf of coriander. Served with three sauces that we identified as possibly reduced teriyaki, pickled daikon and salsa verde (from left to right), and a salad of cerviche topped with baby leaf.

The cerviche caused the most confusion, as it had the texture of fine fish, but not really the bite: each tiny orb parted on the tooth without any noticeable sign of grain. A thought it might have been cerviche or tartar of scallop, but lacked the seafood taste. Of course, it was aubergine, which we hadn't figured out till much later.



The sauces were a little superfluous, especially the first and third. The brown, possibly terikyaki sauce was reduced to a gloop and by the time it was served, had congealed into thin strands of gelatin on the plate. It certainly wouldn't spread or dip, so was best tasted by being scraped up with a fork. The minced daikon added, well, asian-ness, but not flavour to the fish. The salsa verde was fine, but this time a little too runny to serve with the fish.



The salmon itself was fantastic - one of the best cooked pieces I had ever eaten. Barring the Fat Duck version of salmon (which I loved except for the licorice gel), this was definitely the best presentation of what is a fantastic but easily overcooked, overused and 'boring' fish.



The meat was juicy and pink, without being raw. Cooked all through yet retaining its flavour and juices really made this dish shine.



Slow cooked caramelised lamb with cassoulet of white beans, parsley mash, truffle oil. Well, it pretty much is what it says on the tin.



A thought hers wonderfully cooked; I thought mine a little tough for a slow cooked belly of lamb. Execution is pretty much excellent, with alternating layers of lean and fat tied into a roulade, the flavours were clean and savoury without an overwhelming smell or taste of lamb, which can dominate cuts with more fat. The white beans were stewed to perfection, with a tiny amount of tooth, but mainly melting starch. The mash, often an easily overlooked component, was buttery and smooth. One shudders to think of the quantity of cream and butter it might contain.



A palate cleansing granita. Superfluous, and not terribly well made. Possibly rose water, possibly pomegranate, the flakes of ice were sometimes too large, and slightly watery and unpleasant on the tongue.



By now the light began to fade (as you can see), and dessert and cheese were ordered.



A was delighted by her mulled bilberry with blackberry meringue, with vanilla ice cream.



The meringue was competent, but the compote of bilberry and blackberries were bright, sweet and flavoursome, and the vanilla ice cream rich and bursting of real vanilla.





My cheese platter was competently chosen, with some rich and full bodied cheeses. Somewhat let down by presentation, we were willing to overlook the rather aged and worn plate due to the quality of the cheese itself.



The damage: two very reasonably priced and excellent dinners, a bottle of wine and a bottle of water, with service came to just a tad over £76. The wine list is extensive, but heavy on the wallet. As an aside, they are a member of the Gourmet Society.

The service is highly competent but with moments of major flaw. A's soup was served in a cup heavily crusted with somebody else's dinner; apologies were profuse and a replacement was prompt. At times the staff looked confused - we were led to our table via a tour of the restaurant, after the maitre'd seemed unsure where to seat us. Our initial reservation had been lost, and it was only due to us calling to change the booking that this was discovered. Our food busser arrived at the table with an enormous tray, but nobody to help serve; it took several minutes of desperate looks from him before a waiter came to relieve him of his burdens. Etc, etc, this was not fine dining, but it could be once they sort out the minor issues.

A return to Inn Noodle - Bayswater

Inn Noodle
106 Queensway
London
W2 3RR



Having previously mistaken the place as being called 'Noodle Inn' (a far more sensible name), we return to Inn Noodle with the fabulous V in tow on a wet spring evening. Wine was on the cards, and probably shenanigans too. Definitely shenanigans.



Orders took a while to arrive, which mattered not, as we had much to catch up and understandable as there was a long queue for takeaways by the door. A's only adamant choice was the gai lan sauteed with garlic. This was almost perfect, with a sweet crunch and soft wilted leaves, the dish could only have been improved by having garlic cooked with it, instead of being topped with the pre-fried garnish. Not even close to haute cuisine, but why should it be? This is probably the most delicious way to inject green into your day.



Having texted V earlier in the evening to let her know of our imminent arrival, she had responded: "you know I have a one tracked mind", further inquiry on what that track might be, elicited: "prawns!"

Ok, in a 'real' restaurant with table cloths and menus without photos, I might have quibbled about the prawns in chili and garlic. A certainly didn't care for the slightly doughy batter, and we wondered if the gluten to starch ratio was too high. However, for a simple eatery, the prawns were big, tasty, and doused in fiery fried chili: grease+salt+spice = happy.




Wontons in vinegar/soy and chili oil. Delicious. These were actually incredibly good wontons, and superior to the ones we tried at the excellent Baozi Inn.



The highlight of the evening (overshadowing even the effervescent V), was the Cantonese roast duck. Not realising there was a choice, we received the boned version. Ever a gnawer of bones, I was disappointed to be deprived of my usual entertainment, and doubly so when I tasted the duck. The meat was plump and juicy, and tasted of soft yielding duckiness. The skin was crisp, oh so crunchy, with a melting layer of fat below. The soy sauce was savoury and salty, but balanced the sweetness perfectly. This is, without doubt, the single best Cantonese duck I have had in the UK so far, since I moved over in 2003.



Some shanghai siu mai, just out of interest. Unlike the yum cha cousin, the filling is made with glutinous rice. This version wasn't like mum's; the filling was almost entirely rice, soaked in sauce. Good, but not great.



Pot stickers - like the wontons, the filling was exceptional. The wrapper was thick, but in a good way, holding together the filling and a pocket of juice akin to xiao long bao - soup dumplings. We actually queried whether these were pot stickers or simply jiao zi, as no evidence of frying was apparent. On the underside (not pictured), a light brown surface had been achieved, but not to our satisfaction.



The damage: an eclectic selection of the weird and wonderful for distraction while chatting to a good friend. Add a bottle of wine and it came just shy of £50 for three. Given that the local pub in Bayswater (a horrible place) was charging close to £20 for house wine, this seems like a pretty good deal. Plus, the duck can't be praised enough.

Four Seasons - London

Four Seasons
12 Gerrard Street
London
W1D 5PR



Apparently once the home of the best roast duck in London, we try the menu at Four Seasons.



Seated upstairs, we were in close proximity to their slop buckets. Although no noisome odour was apparent, the leftovers of many an other meal wasn't the best appetiser we could wish for.



Tea was duly served.



Aubergine hotpot - braised aubergine with minced pork. The aubergine was nicely braised, losing all of its 'raw' taste.



The sauce was savoury and generic, but certainly tasty. A good rendition of a memorable comfort food.



Braised (twice cooked) pork on taro.



There were two versions of this on the menu: taro, or mei gan cai (a dried fermented cabbage) - both being very traditional. The pork is usually cooked at least twice (but in actuality in several steps involving blanching, frying, stewing and steaming).



This version needed a lot of work. The pork wasn't as tender as hoped, and tasted like it might have been too old to serve. The sauce was sweet but lacked any defined or depth of flavour. The taro was chewy and had failed to pick up what little flavour there was in the sauce. A terrific dish done very poorly.



'Monk's vegetables' - a medley of bok choi and Chinese mushrooms. This was our favourite stir-fry of the set. The bok choi was tender and sweet, and the mushrooms juicy and full of musky xiang gu flavour.



I never know if they are just superior at soaking dried mushrooms, or if they use fresh or tinned. The texture is very fresh and bouncy, but I always think that the taste is superior to fresh mushrooms.



The crispy roast pork was one of the better versions I've tasted in the UK, and this was an improvement on Gold Mine's rendition.



The skin is highly crispy, and the meat salty and flavourful. Our only quibble was that it had been served somewhat cold.



The roast duck was disappointing - lacking real flavour and served tepid.



Patches of skin had been burnt, and the meat itself was slightly chewy without substantial duck flavour.


The damage: lunch for 5 not-so-hungry eaters came to £45. This could have been less had we passed on the entirely forgettable duck, or could have more if we'd ordered more substantial dishes involving seafood instead of vegetarian alternatives. The service is not prompt, and the usual heavy handed routine found in standard Chinese restaurants. Would we go back? almost certainly not.

En Route to Paris

Feb 14 and we get up early. Out of the house at 8am with a suitcase I'd secretly packed the night before, A had no idea where we were headed.



Hungry and, I'll admit a little hung over, we stop off at one of the branches of La Croissanterie near the train station.



Pasties, baguette 'pizzas', samosas... the stuff of champions.



We opted for a pastie, which was reheated in the microwave and yet still that cloying cold texture of congealed fat.



The fact that the paper bag was immediate soaked by grease was taken as a good sign. I'm sure this meant that the pastie itself was now free of any lard... Or the alternative explanation is that a good thick lining to the stomach is always good for combating hangovers.



With five outlets listed in Oxford, they must be doing something right. I know that the George Street outlet is extremely popular.



Alongside our lardball we also bought a roast beef baguette. Crusty baguette, yes. Roast beef? Few and far in between, the slices were thin and bland, tasting of nothing but watery protein. Boo.

Onwards to London, Tube to King's Cross and a quick hop on to the Eurostar.



By now it's around 2pm, so we grab a snack at the Cafe Nero in the station. Ham sandwich... so-so.



Croque-monsieur on the Eurostar, microwaved to perfection. This was actually not that bad, all things considered. It was probably the best thing we'd eaten so far all day, but that might just have been because we were hungry!



Washed down by a nice quarter-bottle of Nicolas Feuillate rose champagne.



Out of little plastic disposable cups!