Barnyard

So it's a warm, drizzly Saturday afternoon in Fitzrovia and I'm just off to Michelin's hottest star Ollie Dabbous's restaurant. No, not that one - I mean Barnyard, his newest venture round the corner, where I'm reliably informed the wait is mere hours rather than months thanks to a 'no reservations' policy.

The first surprise; we appear to have fortuitously turned up between busy periods and are shown to a table immediately - nice. The second surprise; that the famously precise Ollie Dabbous, whose endive salad contains endive to orange to mint in an exact 3:3:4 ratio and who reputedly once roundly berated staff for leaving a ragged edge on the toilet paper instead of a clean line, has chosen to open a restaurant that looks like - well, like the inside of a ramshackle old barn. 

To be fair to Dabbous though, nobody gets that good without a fierce eye for detail and a relentless drive for perfection. (Actually, in Dabbous's case, hardly anybody gets THAT good at all.) Barnyard, then, feels almost like an alter-ego: reclaimed fixtures, sunflowers, mottled corrugated iron walls, manly staff in checked shirts who look like they've just finished pitchforking hay, white enamel plates and cocktails in half-pint dimpled beer mugs. It's very Of Mice and Men, but in a good way. It's fun. I'm already looking forward to good things.

Dabbous himself is still somewhat busy running his aforementioned eponymous joint so the food at Barnyard comes courtesy of Joseph Woodland (The Square, Launceston Place) and has been described by Dabbous's business partner Oskar Kinberg as 'home cooking, done well and without the washing-up'. At first glance, the menu - divided, with suitably agricultural unsentimentality, into sections headed 'cow', 'pig' and so on - contains the usual suspects for a retro Americana vibe, along with some British classics: beef, eggs, fries, chicken wings, sausage rolls, milkshakes. More of which later.

In keeping with the informal feel (you are very likely to end up squished elbow-to-elbow with other diners, it's really not the place for a private chat) the dishes are designed for sharing. I love this, as in my experience meal envy can test the strength of any relationship, but it can be tricky to gauge portions on a first visit; also the tables are quite small, so expect mild juggling and balancing to be involved. We went with our waiter's advice of 5-6 dishes plus sides and plumped for the chicken in a bun, duck egg with asparagus, fries, roast beef with watercress salad, crispy chicken wings, and broken eggs with mushrooms, garlic and parsley.

Restaurants mixing high-end dining with low-end classics can face the Bubbledogs conundrum; how much can you polish up a classic dish before it loses what makes it a classic in the first place? Barnyard has balanced this well. The chicken in a bun was moist and flavoursome, in a light brioche-style bun and served with delicately-seasoned mayonnaise. The duck egg and asparagus was delicious and beautifully presented, although given that it is a sharing plate, getting both halves of the egg would have been nice. The fries were, well, classic fries; crispy and just right.

Opinion was divided on the broken eggs - basically barely-cooked egg swirled with earthy mushrooms, spiked with garlic and balanced out with parsley. The texture was a little strange, but it was somehow comforting and I couldn't help thinking that, accompanied with some sourdough toast perhaps, it would make a perfect hangover breakfast. The wings, much hyped, were actually not my favourite; there was a quite strong herby note (fennel?) that whilst not unpleasant, I just hadn't expected from the description.

The beef, on the other hand, was outstanding. Supple slices of intensely-flavoured rare roast beef, the lightest crisp of toast, fresh peppery watercress and a warm buttermilk dressing that blends nursery comfort with the bite of horseradish. I loved this. Do not, on any account, visit Barnyard without having this dish; visually, texturally, the blend of flavours - it is fabulous in every way.

My other personal must-have - although this could be just me - is the acorn flour waffle with chocolate and malt. Totally undersold on the menu, this is delicious; a perfect dense waffle (completely unlike the plasticky fast food versions), a rich, nutty chocolate sauce and a divine malted cream that tasted exactly like the inside of Maltesers. What's not to like? 

Which brings me, neatly but not really, on to the drinks. Trust me and beware, these are the archetypal wolves in sheep's clothing. Shandies? I think not. They may well contain beer or cider plus lemonade, but these are basically cocktails in a swigging glass. Extras include gin, bourbon, whisky and tequila, with not a warning umbrella, sparkler or decorative pineapple quarter in sight - and in a half pint glass. They are intriguing, delicious, and incognito. I am absolutely serving a version of these at every BBQ I host this summer. Form an orderly queue, please. (Oh, and don't think you can escape with a milkshake - even they come with an optional tot of something stronger.)

My one regret is the absence from the menu of the popcorn ice cream with smoked fudge sauce; I had heard good things and was keen to try it. During a quick chat with the utterly charming, laid-back manager he explained that their ice cream maker had broken the day before but that the dish would be back on the menu very soon. Hey ho - I guess at least I got to experience the waffle with malted cream. Ollie, Oskar and Joseph Woodland, I salute you.

Yours, in virtual gingham and petticoats,

Girl About Town xx

Bubbledogs&

Hard to believe that Bubbledogs only opened its doors a month ago, considering the amount of interest it has generated. Pedigree helps (pun intended); owners are chef and sommelier husband and wife team James Knappett and Sandia Chang, whose impressive joint CVs (Marcus Wareing, Per Se, Noma, The Ledbury, Roganic) can be seen in the toilet. No, really; the unisex loos in the restaurant are papered with menus, some with handwritten messages of good luck so presumably leaving gifts from previous jobs.
http://www.bubbledogs.co.uk/

Bubbledogs (the clue is in the name) is a champagne bar that sells grower champagnes and, um, hot dogs. This would be the other reason that everyone is talking about it, and opinion is quite clearly divided on whether the unlikely pairing is a stroke of genius or a faddy bandwagon rip-off. Traditionally champagne has accompanied posh nosh: caviar, smoked salmon, and expensive bite-sized morsels from silver trays. Hot dogs, on the other hand, are usually a couple of quid from the cinema, football ground, or bought as a hangover cure from a roadside van at the weekend. (What? Is that just me?)

So can you credibly pair champers with junk food? To settle this argument, fundamental to the concept of Bubbledogs, I call upon a wine heavyweight. Laura Maniec is the world's youngest Master Sommelier - the highest possible accreditation for wine professionals - and current queen of the New York wine scene. She has recently co-founded wine studio Corkbuzz and is a vocal advocate of drinking champagne with French fries, explaining that the bubbles cut through oil and salt. Hey, if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for me.

Bubbledogs concentrates on artisanal grower champagnes, i.e. small champagne houses where farmers tend their own vines but lack the commercial clout of more famous Grande Marques. This venture simultaneously supports them and brings a wide range of excellent but less familiar fizz conveniently to Fitzrovia. Having briefly checked out the website before my visit I was a little disappointed to discover that only a very small selection are available by the glass at any one time - a fraction of the listings on the site under such tempting headings as 'Fresh Fruit Bowl' or 'A Lick of  Chalk and Stones'. I know they can't open them all, but . . . no matter; we tried the Gaston Chiquet's Selection Cuvée, the cheapest option at a pretty reasonable £6.50 a glass, and a fabulous Benoit Lahaye rosé at £11. More of an enthusiastic fan than any kind of expert, I thought they were both delicious and stood up well to the robust and spicy flavours of our dogs of choice.

Leading nicely on to . . . the food menu. A tad more sophisticated than the 'd'ya want onions?' choice offered by hot dog van man, Bubbledogs dogs come in pork, beef or veggie versions and with a variety of toppings. The full list is available on their website but they all sound pretty good; we eventually plumped for a José, which comes with salsa, avocado, sour cream and jalapeños, and a Sloppy Joe, with chilli, onions and cheese.

The waitress recommended that we opt for a beef sausage with both, which turned out to be a good choice. The sausages are not enormous (standard New York sized, think skinny frankfurters not the fat ones) but were meaty and full of flavour. Were they worth £7.50 each? We enjoyed them, but at the end of the day you're still eating a hot dog, albeit a nice one. Special mention, though, to the sides; excellent crunchy sweet potato fries, plus something I haven't had since living in the USA - Tater Tots (think small, cylindrical hash browns rather than soft mashed potato croquettes). Not bad at £3.50 each.

As a purely culinary experience I'm not totally convinced, but as a whole package it's a really cool and buzzy place to go. Beautiful exposed brickwork, wooden floor, a Manhattan-style copper bar, the ubiquitous bare filament light bulbs and some cute commissioned artwork plus communal seating give Bubbledogs a fun and relaxed atmosphere, perfect for winding down after work. It's not cheap, but then I guess it's a champagne bar in Fitzrovia. Duh.

Another place with a no-reservations policy (unless you're a party of six: worth organising, to be honest) you should either time your visit carefully or be prepared to wait. Actually, it's not that grim as the staff will take your mobile number and call you when a space becomes free. We pootled round the corner to Yumchaa and had a very nice Earl Grey while we waited for our call. Oh, and in case you're wondering what the '&' part of the name is - James Knappett is about to open Kitchen Table, a 19-seat dining area behind the curtain at the back of Bubbledogs where diners can watch and ask questions as he and his team prepare and cook the meal in front of them. Now THAT is exciting.

Yours, chilled and bubbly,
Girl About Town xx

Kaffeine

Have you ever stopped to think about how huge the difference in quality can be when you're looking at life's most basic food and drink options? I mean, picture an economy-brand sliced white loaf from your local supermarket; open the thin plastic wrapper and the bread inside is generic, flabby, pale and characterless with no discernible flavour at all. Now imagine an artisan loaf fresh from a real bakery; wrapped in paper, still warm, with a rich yeasty smell, crisp golden crust and a deliciously soft and yielding centre . . . mmmmm. That kind of bread is worth eating on its own - with some unsalted butter perhaps, or gutsy green olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The supermarket stuff is really only useful to stop the inside of a sandwich from becoming the outside.

It's the same thing with coffee. You're standing at a vending machine; you put in your coins, a squat little plastic cup drops into a holder, and a nondescript murky brown liquid is dispensed into it. It could be coffee with milk (as the code you punched in promised), it could be school canteen gravy, it could be puddle water. You take a sip; the temperature pretty much rules out the latter, the rest is guesswork. Or you could head over to Kaffeine in Great Titchfield Street and beg for sanctuary, and an Americano. Rich, smooth, almost chocolatey in its intensity and with enough of a kick to get you right through the day, this is coffee as it should be; done properly, an affordable everyday luxury.

Kaffeine is an Australian/New Zealand-owned independent cafe and takes its coffee, and its food, very seriously. I stopped in on my way back from grabbing lunch so I haven't eaten here yet, although I want to. Salads, sandwiches and pastries all looked fresh and delicious as they were wafted past me to one or other of the cool crowd that seem to make up the Kaffeine clientele. It does have a very relaxed vibe: exposed brickwork, wooden benches, great music and friendly, laid-back staff. It's exactly the kind of place you'd like to hang out in on a rainy afternoon with your laptop, although it is so popular that you'd probably get guilted out by the queue before you were really ready to leave.

My gift to you, my fellow coffee addicts. Because we deserve the best.





Yours, suitably caffeinated,
Girl About Town xx