The Counter at Sabor

Sabor (which appropriately means 'flavour' in Spanish) has only been open for a few short months and is already making waves; at the recent Estrella Damm National Restaurant Awards it was named second best restaurant in the UK behind Kiln, with co-founder Nieves Barragán Mohacho winning Chef's Chef of the Year.

The unassuming entrance is marked by classic Spanish tiles — including a rather lovely 'Calle de Heddon' street sign — and the inevitable queue. Spanish food fans and tapas addicts, I'm happy to report that the hype is real.

To be fair, Sabor's founders know a thing or two about running a restaurant; Barragán Mohacho was Executive Chef at Barrafina for ten years, during which time she won them a Michelin star, with co-founder and customer experience king José Etura as Operations Director.

Sabor is divided into three separate and distinct sections: a classic, L-shaped tapas counter focusing on fresh fish and dishes from the Basque country and Catalonia, the Asador upstairs (which takes reservations and is wonderful for celebrations and group dining) showcasing specialities from the regions of Galicia and Castile and a small bar area downstairs with a selection of wines, spirits, beers and sherries from across Spain.

We started with Pan Tomate and Cecina, the vibrant freshness of tomatoes balancing delicate slices of intensely-flavoured, dry-cured smoked beef. This typifies Sabor's ethos, with high-quality traditional ingredients leading the way.

Some of you out there may well already know that I am quietly but incurably obsessed with certain foods, croquetas being in my top three.  Even given this, the Prawn Croquetas did not disappoint; they were perfect, with a deeply-flavoured, rich, comfortingly creamy centre and a crisp, golden shell.

(I don't really have a sweet tooth, so in times of heartbreak and despair I think I would head here for endless plates of these rather than finish off a tub of Ben & Jerry's on the sofa. Each to their own - and you have been warned.)

Next were the Piquillo Croquetas, which on my visit were topped with a snowfall of grated Zamorano cheese; I think on the updated menu it is now Manchego. Again, these were delicious, with a light but definite kick and perfectly cooked.

Frit Mariner was a sunshiny plate of tender squid and shelled prawns with aubergine and red pepper, drizzled in a herby olive oil dressing that made me long for a piece of bread to greedily wipe the plate clean.

The Beetroot, Blood Orange and Dill was simple and simply delicious, the earthiness of the beetroot balanced with the citrus and dressing, making for a pretty and refreshing dish.

The Chargrilled Baby Potatoes & Sobrasada was the only dish that I wouldn't rush to order again; the texture was quite uniform and I didn't get much of the promised chargrilled flavour, although to be fair by now the bar had been set pretty high.

Our Rhubarb and Mascarpone Tartaleta was delightful and an excellent end to our evening; delicately crisp pastry and with a filling that allowed the inherent sharpness of the rhubarb to come through, but softened by the mascarpone.

We went for a bottle of the Bhilar white Rioja 2016 on the advice of our charming server Pablo; it was a good match and I will be adding it to my wish list next time I am wine shopping.
I also couldn't resist the theatre of a glass of Txakoli, a young, citrussy, slightly effervescent wine best poured from height to maximise the flavour.

I'm already planning a trip back for the other two areas of the restaurant, the Asador and the bar; my wish list from the bar menu includes the Lardo, Anchovies & Picos, the Camarones Fritos & Fried Egg and the Queso Fresco & Black Truffle. (Actually I might just move in, I could happily eat that for breakfast.)

Yours, savouring the flavour,
London Girl About Town xx

Darjeeling Express

I must have walked past the entrance to Kingly Court countless times without noticing it; to be perfectly honest with you, I walked past twice without noticing it while I was actually looking for it. Ever the helpful chronicler, you can find it here; sandwiched snugly between Pizza Pilgrims and the Detox Kitchen.

The narrow passageway opens into a foodie Narnia; three levels of bars, restaurants and a shaded little courtyard, a perfect place in which to while away a lazy summer Sunday. I will definitely be back, but this time I was on a mission; I had booked the set menu Sunday lunch at Darjeeling Express; Calcutta Lamb Dum Biryani, a throwback to the restaurant's origins. 

Darjeeling Express started out as a supperclub in the beautiful London home of Asma Khan, a journalist and constitutional lawyer who taught herself to cook by immersing herself in the traditions, techniques and handed-down recipes of her family and her childhood. For Asma, this spans her royal Mughal heritage, Hyderabad and the Calcutta street food she remembers enjoying as a child. 

The restaurant is relaxed and stylishly homely. The lovely Florian Siepert talked us through the wine list (which, if you have ever heard his voice, is an experience in its own right) and recommended the Envinate Albahra Garnacha Tintorera 2015, which stood up to the spices perfectly. 

I admit to being a complete novice at all things wine-related (bar the drinking of it) but he was equally enthusiastic quizzing us about which wines we liked as a starting point as talking terroirs and altitudes with the table next door. He returned not only with the wine but with an equally charming dining companion for us, chef Jonny Rothfield (seen here with Asma, who walks through the dining room regularly, chatting to her guests). 

Our feast began with Papri Chaat, a classic Calcutta street food dish; soft spiced potato and black chickpeas on a bed of crispy papri, dressed with tamarind chutney and topped with sev (fine crispy noodles) and fresh coriander. It was incredibly good; each mouthful a play of salty, sweet, sour, soft, crunchy, fresh, spicy.

Battling with myself to leave room for the dishes to come, next up was the Beetroot and Cashew Samosas; delicate, crisp and light, a world away from the stodgy, oily offerings from your local takeaway. In fact, eating here will ruin a Friday night curry for you forever. This is not commercialised, westernised food; this is authentic Indian cuisine, the kind cooked at home, with love and patience, for friends and family.

The main event was a spectacular lamb biryani; two huge pots, sealed with dough and opened in front of the guests. Asma explained that the art of a perfect biryani is not only in the cooking but in the serving of the dish. There are two layers of rice, the top layer drier and sealing most of the steam beneath it; the trick is to dig deep and mix the layers so that everyone gets a balanced amount of both.

This was served like a home cook after my own heart; unapologetically generous portions piled high on sharing platters to be tucked into at the table. It was outrageously good. By this time we had got chatting to the family next to us and were serving huge, teetering, fragrant spoonfuls across the table to each other. You've got to love the almost magical ability of food to forge a connection between people, be they strangers, friends or family.

Served alongside this were a cooling tomato and cucumber raita, a feisty Bengali tomato, prune and apricot chutney and a wonderful Hyderabadi Mirchi Ka Salaan (the classic chilli and peanut masala accompaniment to biryani) which had us all reaching for our water glasses - repeatedly, as we couldn't stop eating it.

Dessert, after a merciful pause, was a dish usually served on the morning of Eid; Sheer Korma, milk infused with dried dates, served warm with pistachios and vermicelli. This was gentle and comforting; I rather liked it, but you do have to be a fan of warm milk, which not everyone on our table was.

Asma and her all-female team of wonderful home cooks have created something very special; a restaurant as relaxed and welcoming as the house of a close friend - a friend who happens to be a genius in the kitchen.

To share a meal here is a strangely soothing, almost restorative experience, as well as a culinary one. It's quite an achievement and I absolutely can't wait to go back.

Yours, feeling part of a new family,
London Girl About Town xx

Hai Cenato & the Drunken Oyster

Hai Cenato, as pretty much everyone in London now knows, translates as 'Have you had dinner?' and is Jason Atherton's latest venture. Situated in the increasingly interesting Nova food centre in Victoria and launched in collaboration with Social Eating House Chef Patron Paul Hood, the focus is on New York/Italian food: small plates, sourdough pizza, pasta, risotto and grills in relaxed surroundings and at accessible prices. So far, so good.

There is a deli on the ground floor (which we didn't visit) for those after a quick breakfast/brunch, or perhaps stocking up for some al desko dining. Entrance to the restaurant is through giant tinted glass doors opened for you by sharp-suited staff who wouldn't look out of place hustling a president into a black limo. Inside, the ambiance is quite intimate for a large-ish space, with low lighting (hence, apologies for the quality of the photographs) and a mixture of seating. Caricatures of Atherton's fellow chefs adorn the walls (sparking much competitive muttering at nearby foodie tables) and there is a monthly 'guest chef' pizza from one of the greats.

We visited when the pizza was courtesy of Tom Kerridge; the signature sourdough base came topped with ground spiced venison, Milano salami, Gorgonzola dolcelatte, sorrel and lemon zest. Clearly we couldn't eat here without trying this - and I'm very glad we did. The buzz about the pizza here is entirely justified; the huge domed pizza ovens that dominate the counter area like 1950s sci-fi robots really deliver.

I've eaten an awful lot of pizza in my time, but this was one of the best. Distinctive but balanced flavours in the topping (although, note to self - grated lemon zest is really hard to distribute evenly over anything) and an absolutely first-class base. Thin, crispy, chewy, with a tangy, sourdough kick, this was seriously impressive.
To go with, we were recommended a light and very drinkable Villa Mura Malvasia Veneto, pretty reasonably-priced at £25. There are five reds and five whites available by the glass too, if you prefer.

We also ordered the confit guinea fowl risotto and some satisfyingly crunchy cracked potato with garlic aioli, rosemary and sea salt; imagine serving up the roasties and then scraping the bits from the bottom of the tray. Wonderful.

By now I was so carbed-out by my holy trinity of bread, rice and potatoes that I didn't have room for the planned mini gelato cones that you can get from the deli, so it was straight off upstairs to the in-house cocktail bar, 'The Drunken Oyster'.

The bar is dimly-lit and cosy in a members' club kind of way. We could have sat and reminisced about the pizza with the 'taptails' - a range of prosecco-based cocktails literally on tap - but, though tempting, we decided to hit the main list.

The Cosa Nostra was one of my favourites: a sophisticated mix of Havana 3yr rum, Amaro Montenegro, Palo Cortado and blood orange sherbert. The seasonal bellinis are a refreshing, lighter alternative and the affable staff are happy to make your favourite to order if it's not on the list (as witnessed by my companion, for whom an evening is just not complete without at least one espresso martini).

I'm going back. I'm having the grilled octopus starter. I'm having the gelato. I'm having taptails. And I'm always, always having the pizza.

Yours, with a new pizza pitstop,

London Girl About Town xx

teamLab: Transcending Boundaries at the Pace Gallery

Formed in 2001, teamLab is a Japanese collaborative group of digital experts from a number of different disciplines including art, programming, animation, mathematics and design. Preferring the term 'ultratechnologists' they aim to transcend the traditional boundaries between these fields, with influences ranging from pre-modern art and ancient calligraphy to contemporary anime.

In this exhibition at the Pace Gallery in Mayfair the worlds of art, technology and nature blur around you and blend into a fascinating new landscape.

We were first shown into a small side-room where we were able to leave our coats and were swathed in white shawls. Our guide then led us into Flowers Bloom on People, a completely dark room, and instructed us to keep as still as possible (FYI, sitting down with your legs outstretched gives you the best balance between comfort, effect and viewing options).

What happened next was captivating. Slowly, gradually, on us (hence the shawls) and on the floor beneath us, flowers started to bud, blossom and - if you moved, or touched them - disappear in a flurry of scattered petals. My companion and I changed positions at one point and the flowers gradually regrew and, rather wonderfully, formed a bridge between us.

I can see why there are strictly controlled time slots for visitors; it was so absorbing that not only did the time fly by ridiculously quickly but we could both have stayed in there for hours, enthralled. Courteously, firmly, we were ushered out and into the main room.

This was equally magical. Universe of Water Particles, Transcending Boundaries is basically a virtual waterfall that streams down the entire far wall and then along the floor, flowing around the feet and hands of the viewers as it comes into 'contact' with them. What is particularly cool is that, like the flower room, this is not a pre-recorded or looped video; the installations react to you, to the other people in the room and even to each other, meaning that what you are looking at has never been seen before - and will never be seen again.

In Flutter of Butterflies Beyond Borders, Ephemeral Life, a cloud of butterflies appears from wherever you are standing and flutters around, heading off into the other artworks and interacting with them; for example the butterflies will gravitate towards the flowers generated by Flowers and People, Transcending Boundaries - A Whole Year per Hour which sees a seasonal year of different flowers bloom and die over one hour.

Enso is a work in progress for teamLab, who have been working on 'spatial calligraphy' since the collective first formed. Enso is the Zen discipline of drawing a circle with a single stroke, either as a written brushstroke or drawn in mid-air using a stick or cane, representing enlightenment, truth and unity. This three-dimensional version encompasses the speed, direction and pressure of the brush stroke as well as the visual aspects of the ink mark, so you are caught up in the process of creation as well as the finished result.

We left, reluctantly, feeling as refreshed and uplifted as if we had just finished a yoga class or spent half the day in a spa. When I grow up I want this in a dedicated relaxation room in my house (I read somewhere that the Spellings had three separate gift-wrapping rooms in their Los Angeles mansion, so hey, why not?). The only way it could potentially be any better would be the addition of some kind of subtle fragrance to make it even more immersively sensory — a series of different florals for the flower room? Something fresh and ozone-y for the waterfall? (Oh, and perhaps an ice bucket tucked away in the corner for some fizz . . .)

This exhibition transcends boundaries of many kinds: those between art and technology, technology and nature, between art and the gallery space and between art and the viewer. It achieved all you can ask of art; it provoked an immediate emotional reaction and raised questions we were still debating for days afterwards. Come on, teamLab; this needs to be a permanent installation somewhere in London. I'd go back in a heartbeat.

Yours, creating flowers from darkness,

London Girl About Town xx

Bone Daddies, James Street

I first started this blog in the summer of 2012. My aim then was exactly the same as it is today; to shout about London's amazing food, cool bars, thought-provoking art and random eccentricities from her lofty rooftops, to light a path and entice both newcomers and world-weary locals along it with me. In December of that year, I blogged a newcomer to the noodle scene in Soho, a rockin' ramen bar called Bone Daddies. We've both moved on a bit since then.

Ex-Zuma and Nobu chef Ross Shonhan seems to be a bit of a trailblazer. Bone Daddies was soon regularly bursting at the seams (reading back through the blog it did make me smile - those were the days when a 'no-reservation' policy was actually worth mentioning!) and the following summer saw the arrival of Flesh & Buns, the original steamed bao 'beer and buns' joint, in the style of an Izakaya - a kind of casual restaurant/local bar hybrid that is a common and popular post-work pitstop in Japan. I probably don't need to tell you that the concept was a hit.

Shackfuyu opened early in 2015 serving Western-inspired Japanese dishes. By the end of the year it had turned into the Pinocchio of pop-ups and become a real-life permanent bricks-and-mortar restaurant, alongside an ever-growing brood of Bone Daddies: Kensington, Bermondsey, Old Street and now James Street. There's even a little sibling on the way, planned for the new NOVA development in Victoria later this year. So, full circle, I find myself once again queueing on a bitingly cold London evening (so cold, in fact, that the staff came out with shots of warm sake to keep us going - much appreciated, thank you!) to see what's new.

First impressions: it's bigger than the original (James Street has an additional downstairs dining area) with a lower-volume version of their classic rock soundtrack and consequently has a slightly more grown-up feel. It's as if the experience has been dialled down just a notch from the full-on Soho version: roomier, lighter, quieter. This may not last, of course, as this was only day two of opening (and I confess I love the unapologetic in-your-face energy of the Soho bar) but it's good to have the choice.

The industrial-chic interior has a couple of seats at the bar (which has a small but perfectly-formed sake and whisky selection) and communal wooden tables with stools. If the madness of a first-come, first-served soft launch is anything to go by, the front of house staff will cope admirably with anything you can throw at them (props to the lovely Noemie and Julius, who got the whole thing bang on).

So, on to the food. We had starved ourselves in preparation (the sacrifices I make for you, dear reader) and so hit the bar snacks hard. First to arrive was the wild soft-shell crab with green chilli ginger sauce, and a dish of smashed cucumber. My initially cautious companion was converted by the tempura-style crab and the well-balanced spicy dip.

As we were seated at the bar, it seemed impolite not to order a cocktail or two to go with. We went for a Gini Hendrix (long and refreshing, with yuzu sake, gin, cucumber and oolong syrup) and a moreish lychee and pomegranate martini. A plate of the sweet and spicy edamame went down well; wonderfully messy to eat (you get a little wipe each with the bowl for empties) and more interesting than the usual salt or chilli options.

We then went for a prawn nama harumaki - a fresh spring roll (similar to the Vietnamese version but with pickles as well as the fresh vegetables) and a wasabi mayo dip. I really liked this; it was super-fresh, as it absolutely has to be for this to work, and the individual flavours all came through well.

I could happily have worked my way through the rest of the snacks menu (sweet spicy pig bones! Korean chicken wings!) but we wanted to try the offerings from the James Street site's new toy - a robata grill. Robata means 'fireside cooking' in Japanese and is a barbecue-style cooking method similar to an Argentinian asado, where food is placed at different heights over different sections of the grill to control heat and timings.

First was the chicken yakitori with shichimi pepper, well-flavoured and with just the right amount of crispy char-grill on the edges. If I sound as if I am damning this with faint praise, it's only because it arrived with the ox cheek kushiyaki (i.e. grilled skewer), which is like turning up to a party with Scarlett Johansson. This was my stand-out dish of the day, really showcasing the intense smoky flavour imparted by the grill. Padron peppers and kimchee butter were inspired companions and the soft, tender meat was utterly delicious.

We also tried the pork belly kushiyaki, which was my companion's favourite and really good in both texture and flavour; the fierce heat of the robata suits pork well, producing both juicy meat and crispy skin. If I hadn't already had the ox cheek I would probably be raving about this too.

It's kind of obligatory to order ramen at a classic ramen bar, so we did. It was everything we have come to expect from Bone Daddies: warming, soothing, tasty, with perfect Clarence Court eggs and a rich, creamy broth - 'a warm hug in a bowl' as my companion put it - and reassuringly, just as good as I remember. I notice that the 'cock scratchings' which caused such social media mirth nearly five years ago are now trademarked. How times change.

It occurs to me that I have only ever visited Bone Daddies in the depths of winter, when a big bowl of hot, comforting spicy noodles is a welcome escape from the icy streets. As I wandered off home, I found myself planning a summer trip for snacks, skewers and an ice-cold Asahi beer.

Yours, loving that robata grill,

London Girl About Town xx







https://www.bonedaddies.com/restaurant/james-street/