Xu

Before we begin properly, a brief introductory anecdote; whenever I visit a restaurant that hasn't been open long, I try to avoid reading anyone else's reviews or blogs so I can go in with a completely open mind. I might make a note of a couple of dishes on the restaurant's Instagram feed I like the look of, but generally I just pitch up.

This approach occasionally has its downfalls.  Mostly it involves me missing out on a 'must-try' dish; clearly this means I have to go back, this time without subjecting my dining companion to bloggers' rules (no touching your food before the photo, get your arms out of the shot, don't make shadows on the table etc.). So, not too grim.

Hence, pretty much all I knew about Xu - apart from that it is pronounced 'Shu' — was that it was the newest baby of the Bao group, serving Taiwanese food in Soho. We rocked up on a sunny lunchtime, me in Camden market hippie trousers and him in a t-shirt and shorts, to find that Xu is actually a pretty swish place. Our sharp-suited waiter, clearly a part-time GQ model, seated us next to a table of worldly and immaculately dressed twenty-somethings with handbags worth more than my car. Awkward.

Except that it wasn't, at all. The staff were all breezily charming, the service perfectly pitched and the overall feel of the restaurant really relaxed. You could dress up to come here, but you don't have to. Halfway through the meal, I realised why; everybody is far too busy concentrating on their food to worry about you.

We started with a Taiwan Beer and a couple of dishes of peanut lotus crisps — ridiculously moreish crispy discs of lotus root with chilli, peanut and wintermelon syrup. These had a delicious peanut butter & jelly, salty-sweet appeal that had me eyeing my companion's plate enviously long after mine were gone. I may or may not have surreptitiously dabbed my plate clean with a damp fingertip.

We could have just ordered the entire starter menu as small plates, but we eventually went for the Xian bing - generously sized, aged pork pancakes, served with a chilli and vinegar dip. These were plump and perfectly cooked with a pleasingly crisp, browned exterior. Happily there were two to a portion or there could well have been a scene.

My companion is particularly fond of eel, so we also ordered the tomato and smoked eel with daikon. I am so very happy we did, as this was outstandingly good. I was initially a little disappointed at the size of the tiny, delicate pieces of eel but their flavour was so deep, rounded and gorgeously smoky that the eel balanced perfectly with the freshness and acidity of the tomatoes. When you go to Xu - and you really, really must - don't miss this.

Next up was the chicken wing with a punchy sanbei glaze topped with caviar. I first had this combination at Elizabeth (née Allen) Haigh's Shibui pop-up at Carousel and this was almost as good. It may sound like an unlikely pairing but the caviar adds the smallest briny zing to the dish which works really well with the other flavours.

On to the mains, and more difficult choices. We opted for the shou pa chicken; this arrived as what looked like an entire chicken, peppery, juicy and bronzed, adorned with softened ginger and spring onion. I know I have a tendency to over-ordering as I hate to miss out, but this was huge — and incredible value for money.

Unfortunately they did not have the char siu pork on the day we went, so that will have to wait for a rematch; the second main we ordered turned out to be my other stand-out dish of the day, the chilli egg drop crab. Served in the shell, this was everything I had hoped; the delicious, garlicky chilli sauce was pleasantly but not mouth-numbingly spicy, allowing the full flavour of the crab to come through.

We had ordered the bamboo chilli beef fat rice to go with — or rather alongside, as when it turned up it was a mini meal in itself. Chi Shiang rice from Taiwan with aged beef fat, chilli and coriander, wrapped in bamboo leaves, this was not dissimilar in style to the classic Chinese sticky rice in lotus leaf which is a staple of my every dim sum order. The Xu version was incredibly rich, full-flavoured and very satisfying. Fortunately we had already had a gentle suggestion from the front of house staff that a plain rice might be advisable to go with the crab. It was; I wouldn't have wanted to waste any of that sauce.

I didn't get to the desserts, so you are going to have to do that for me. I heartily recommend a visit to Xu; it's amazing value for such accomplished cooking, it has a great vibe and it takes reservations. Did I mention there is a tea salon downstairs and a cocktail bar upstairs? Well, I just did. Get there pronto.

Yours, a total Xu addict,
London Girl About Town xx

Plaquemine Lock

Plaquemine Lock is the new incarnation of the refurbished Prince of Wales pub, appropriately situated near the lock on Regent's Canal at Angel Islington. It serves mainly London craft beers, a carefully curated selection of wines, a few potent cocktails — and an exciting seasonal menu of Cajun and Creole food.

There is a wonderful story behind the pub's name, menu and entire ethos; settle down and bear with, reader, you'll like this. Plaquemine, Louisiana is a city in Baton Rouge where — you guessed it — a lock was built in 1909 to connect the trade routes of the Mississippi to the Louisiana Bayou. The project brought together two young people — civil engineer Jacob Hortenstein and Carrie Beth Schwing. Carrie was Louisiana gentry, the daughter of successful local businessman Dr Samuel Schwing; she officially opened the new lock by smashing a bottle of champagne against it as the first boat passed through, which happened to be a steamboat named after her.

Carrie and Jacob married and had a daughter, Virginia, who became an artist, actress and socialite. Virginia married and had a daughter, Haidee, who is now a successful London-based artist and the creator of the murals inside the pub. Haidee married and had a daughter and a son, Jacob - Chef Jacob Kenedy, chef patron/owner of Bocca di Lupo, Gelupo, Vico - and Plaquemine Lock. How cool is that? (See, I told you you'd like it.)

So back to the present day and, with a new appreciation of my surroundings, I turned to the menu.

Whilst deciding we had a bag of cracklins, little spiced crispy nuggets of pork belly, and an elegant sharpener from the cocktail menu, a Pear 75 - Plaquemine Lock's take on the French 75 but with Miclo Poire William instead of gin. I'm not sure this was the most obvious choice of pairing on my part (I think the punchy snacks would be an excellent accompaniment to a cold beer) but I wasn't about to miss the snacks and these Luisian-inspired cocktails made me feel very southern belle; after all, a girl has to get in character.

We started with the mini crab cakes. There is no world in which crab cakes are on the menu and I won't order them. These were the home-made kind of delicious, which I mean as a great compliment. Allow me to explain. Some foods you want to be delicate, precise and refined: soufflés, mille feuilles, sandwiches at afternoon tea. Crab cakes, for me, are not that kind of food. I want them to look like they've been deftly squished together between capable palms, possibly rolled in a coating of some kind (that's optional) and thrown into a pan. These delivered: crispy, golden exterior, beautifully seasoned, packed with flavour and served with a spicy mayo.

We then dived straight in to the mains with a plate of boiled crawfish; a huge, heaped platter of spectacular creatures that are basically mini lobsters. Instagrammers, this is your #nofilter moment.

Plaquemine Lock's menu very helpfully not only contains a glossary of culinary terms so that you can tell your grits from your gumbo, but also a step-by-step guide to disassembling a crawfish: basically, twist the tail to remove, peel a segment of shell off to reveal the meat and then squeeze to release. I confess I have a weakness for interactive food; I love eating with my fingers, dipping, peeling, scooping and sharing. This was lots of fun — but be prepared to get messy.

You can't really go to a Cajun/Creole restaurant and not try the gumbo. This was one of my favourite dishes — a delicious hearty, spicy, thickened soup with okra, chicken, shrimp and andouille sausage served over rice. I'm writing this in the middle of a London heatwave but I can imagine an autumnal walk along the canal ending with a huge bowl of this and a craft beer.

My companion had a fried shrimp po'boy, a soft white roll with shrimp, lettuce, tomato and pickles; I was pacing myself but did have a tiny taste (obvs).

This I felt was good, if unexceptional; but to be fair it is, by definition, a relatively plain dish. It originated as a large sandwich given free to the 'poor boys', striking streetcar conductors, as a gesture of support and solidarity from a New Orleans coffee shop which was owned by two brothers who were both ex-streetcar conductors. Nowadays, I can see it as a great pitstop option with a beer if you don't want a full meal, or you don't like things too spicy.

I opted for shrimp 'n' grits with bacon and butter. For those who aren't yet familiar with traditional southern fare (though get ready guys, I have a feeling we'll be seeing more as the year unfolds), grits refers to corn porridge a little like soft polenta, used as a base for those big Louisiana flavours. I liked this a lot — creamy, soothing and spiked with bacon, spring onion and shrimp.

We then ordered six Oysters Rockafella. The original Oysters Rockefeller recipe is a secret; on my next visit (for there absolutely will be a next visit) I will try and corner the chef and tease his version out, as these were delicious and indulgently rich. I can only tell you that the famous green colour comes here from spinach creamed with absinthe. Hell, yeah.

As you can see, we had gamely eaten our way through pretty much the whole menu (you're welcome, dear reader) and were seriously flagging by the time it came to dessert. The most we could manage was a shared beignets and coffee but I'm so glad we did. Whatever you do, don't miss these — they are light, fresh and utterly divine.

Yours, puttin' some South in my mouth,
London Girl About Town xx