Restaurant Spy

They’ve just opened and had a lot of press, but before you call me a foodie fashion victim, they’re also on the 43 bus route, and so am I. The shop front is a work of art in itself, with a gorgeous display of home made breads, cakes and salads on sale to take away.

In the restaurant there are just two large white melamine tables, round which everyone sits. And everyone gets the same starter, they bring it regardless unless you ask them not to. As it happens, it’s brilliant: three different kinds of home made bread, on a board with olive oil; a shot glass each of aubergine puree, a generous portion of green lentil salad and a small herb and roasted pine nut salad. One of the breads had small, sour plums in it – much better than it sounds. My Seven Hour Cooked Lamb with root vegetables was a big joint of meat, perfectly cooked and falling off the bone, with sweet potato, a roast onion, parsnips, spud and carrot - a massive plateful which I couldn’t finish, while L’s Prawns and Scallops in a Thai sauce didn’t look much but he had to struggle to finish it. The waiter (a young woman, but we don’t say actress or manageress any more, do we, so I’ve made a policy decision to drop “waitress”) was quite happy to fix me a doggy bag, she just put it in a carton from the deli counter in the front. Which left me a bit of space for pud. The chocolate brownie with crème fraiche ice cream was more than enough for two, which is just as well cos I had to fight for every spoonful. “It’s not often I think a dessert is worth six quid” he said, by way of excuse. (There’s this squid, shivering on the Ocean Bed. “What’s the matterwith you ?” asks a passing shark “I’ve got a headache and a runny nose and I feel awful” said the squid. “Don’t you worry, little squid, just jump on my back and I’ll take you home”, said the kindly shark, but instead of taking him home, he swam up to the Great Barracuda and said “Here’s that sick squid I owe you”)

To MSG or not to MSG? That is the question. When we went to the New Revolution Chinese we wondered if Red Guard waiters would write our orders in Little Red Books under portraits of Chairman Mao and relay them to a factory field kitchen. But, no. This was not the revolution referred to. Theirs is a cooking revolution, balancing starch, fibre and protein where monosodium glutamate and other artificial additives are eschewed and the reliance is on natural flavours. They also favour the cooking of the harsher climes of North China where the emphasis is on wheat (noodles) rather than rice, though they do serve rice dishes. The place is of average size with plain white walls and minimum decoration. The wooden chairs look like they came in flat packs. I had hot and sour soup and found it neither hot nor sour enough. I don't know whether that was due to the absence of MSG or other artificial additives but whatever the reason I always hope hot and sour does what it says on the tin - and this didn't. My friend had a salad to start which she found bland and uninspiring. Mains were better - I had a quite fiery duck and noodle dish and her squid was good. However, it was the service side of things which let them down. Although they were very polite we did get the impression that they couldn't wait to see the back of their customers. When asked when they closed they said 11 - on the dot - all finish - and they couldn't wait to get finished dishes off the table even if other people were still eating. At twenty to eleven I asked for coffee and was told that the coffee machine had already been switched off. As eleven o'clock approached the atmosphere was more like a pub at kicking out time than a restaurant. No lingering over coffee here - even if the machine was still on. I won't be back. Harry

They do a very good onion soup here and this is useful - because there is a theory that onion soup is one of those simple dishes that is really hard to do well. So the theory goes on to say that if a restaurant can dish up a good onion soup the chances are the rest of its efforts won't be half bad either. This certainly seems to be the case here. I think that it's a converted pub - there is a sort of central bar which is surrounded by a seating area and it is all very well designed. It exudes a kind of understated bosomy comfort - at least it affected me that way. Everything is greys, browns, soft seating and sudbdued lighting, with big white wax candle bowls. You could probably cure a migraine just by sitting here.

This is one of those new Indian restaurants that has left the flock wallpaper behind and is moving on into designer territory. It is poshly situated, not that far from the late Princess Diana's stamping grounds, but is not at all poshly priced. The room is of medium size and one wall is decorated with Rothko-style paintings. No sign of tinplate Taj Mahals or golden elephants here.The walls are painted in warm earth colours. The menu again is abandoning the old favourites and waving new concepts under the curious nose. I'm afraid I have to hold my hand up to being one of those punters who likes to sit under the maroon flock wallpaper and have the occasional soul-scouring vindaloo, because I think it's good for the system to be thoroughly napalmed now and again and a good (preferably Brick Lane or Birmingham) vindaloo is usually just the right weapon for this - especially when fired after a few pints.

My most recent visit to R******* Friday, April 23, 2004 went something like this: After a long day at the office, I came in for a late dinner (8:24pm) exhausted, and hungry. Upon entering I noticed what looked to be a private party. After standing at the front of the restaurant and no one acknowledging my presence, I proceeded to walk to the back to inquire about a seat. I was assumed to be a part of the party initially which explained the inattentiveness of the staff. After clarifying that I was not with the party and wanted to dine in I was given a seat and my order was taken. There I sat with my glass of lemonade waiting for my order of Baby Back Ribs.

I hate squid - always have, always will. It's something to do with the texture of old car tyres I think. My friend had the stir-fried squid here - 'it's like butter' she said. I tried a bite - it was. The texture was so un-rubbery that I could actully eat it. That's never happened before. Cleveland St is in the Euston area, not far from Great Portland St station and there are quite a few interesting looking restaurants along it. Lotus Thai is one such. It's very unpretentious from the outside, quite small (though there is seating downstairs), done out in simple greens and creams and is fairly low in Thai Kitsch - it has an almost cafe atmosphere. The waitresses are very professional and all wear Thai dress, standing to attention by the bar when they are not needed (they should try that in Macdonalds.)

A genuinely Spanish tapas bar. Wide range of tapas (though not many vegetarian), all excellently cooked, flavoured and presented. Also 3-dish lunch menus (£ 4.95) (patatas bravas, salata mixta, plus one meat/fish dish), and a full menu (£17.95). Seven Postres, including Crema Catalana, Flan con Helado de Vainilla, Tiano de Cielo con Quesa y Piñones (cake with cheese and pine nuts). Good wines, and excellent service from Spaniards. Lovely, Spanish ambience, on three floors, interconnected with curved, wrought iron staircases painted glossy black. Lovely, brightly patterned, Spanish wall tiles. The bottom floor has seats all along the wall with scores of brightly patterned cushions. Spanish wrought iron light fittings. Lots of Spanish pictures. Air-conditioned. There are three other branches which we have not yet tried. They only take bookings for eight or more, otherwise it's first come, first served, but we have not had a problem. Annie Ethel

Opinions are sharply divided on the cooking at Georgetown, a subsidiary of the award-winning Raffles at Kenilworth. The décor is colonial wicker and white, which looks sharp and ethnick-y at the same time. I was intrigued by some of the violently opposite views on some of the other restaurant review sites, and took a friend along to spy.

My friend J is a colleague that I have worked with for over ten years, meeting him just once every year around about Christmas-time. Our Christmas lunch is not only a happy annual ritual but almost a "strangers on the train" counselling session - I see him once a year, we e-mail once a year to arrange the time and place and that is it. I have never met his wife or kids, I do not possess his address or phone number and both he and I know that anything that is said can't really go anywhere. We drink a bit too much, eat far too much and have enjoyed a number of eateries around London. Georgetown was my choice this year - we alternate, mostly - and I was pleasantly surprised. Forgive me for saying this, but sometimes (shame of all shames) I go to a place that I know has had a bit of a hammering and, sorry, join in in the self-satisfyingly glorious denunciation. The one thing that everybody does seem agreed on though is the Singapore Slings they make. This mouth-watering combination of gin, cherry liqueur, Benedictine and grenadine is heavenly, sublime and…extremely potent. The Slings here are fantastic and worth going there for alone. They will even tell you how it's done and J scribbled down the ingredients and method with gusto. But, hey, the food isn't bad either. Starters of chicken and fish were chunky, fragrant and zingy, while our main course of Beef Rendang, hot and deliciously coconut-y. The lunch menu at £12.50 for two courses, £15(?) for three is a bargain for quality food in a relaxing atmosphere. Oi'll give it foive. M

Marvellous. Don't bother taking young kids who would probably prefer a happy meal and a free toy but this really is how it should be done. Big juicy burgers (a big Bubba's. Wow) that actually look like the advertisement photos, cheesy fries, atomic onion rings and butterscotch milkshake. A few of us had just been to the cinema and had an evenings drinking to look forward to and coming here just set the day off beautifully; we kept looking at each other with big smug grins on our faces and nodding sagely. Pricier than Maccy D's or Burger King but soooo much better. Approved King Mob

Faversham is a bit of an undiscovered gem in East Kent, close to the more touristified Canterbury and coastal towns like Margate, Herne Bay and Whitstable. This is partly because it doesn't have a cathedral or a beach. It used to be a port but the harbour silted up a few hundred years ago and the only way you can get to the sea now is via a long, winding and very picturesque creek. Some of the town is fairly nondescript (though it does house the Shepherd Neame brewery, the oldest and best in the country) but down by the creek it is quite magical with a marina and one of the best preserved medieval streets in England. Half way along the street is the Phoenix Tavern. I'm not sure how old it is but it has that seriousy medieval look and is a fine mixture of ancient looking beams, wood panelling and bricks with a big medieval looking fireplace. It has a genial landlord, there are nibbles on the bar and it deals in proper, old English style comfort food, just as it should do. Tables are well spaced and the wood is dark. I had a stuffed chicken breast and my companion had duck. There was plenty of both and they were excellent. Service was tip top too. The background music was eclectic and not obtrusive, ranging from Abba to opera. Afterwards we had a walk along the creek, with the sun setting behind the masts. Hard to beat. Harry