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

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

Pollen Street Social

I had a huge treat recently - an invitation to Pollen Street Social for a fellow foodie's birthday celebration. This was my first visit to Jason Atherton's flagship restaurant, which famously was awarded a Michelin star within six months of opening, and it more than lived up to expectations.

The tables are simply laid with white linen and country-chic design tableware in a buzzy dining room area with contemporary art from the likes of Gavin Turk. The overall effect is relaxed and welcoming, making it a perfect choice for anyone who might feel intimidated by the idea of Michelin-starred dining - or for a casual but wonderful birthday dinner.

Once greeted and seated, we had this very welcome selection of amuse-gueule, a literal taste of things to come: smoked salmon, sweetcorn muffins and my absolute favourite, crisp and delicate little beetroot and blackberry tartlets, full of contrasting flavours and perfectly balanced.

For starters we had the Wye Valley asparagus with native lobster and shellfish hollandaise, and the Eyemouth crab salad with apple, coriander, lemon purée and black garlic, and brown crab on toast. Gorgeously plated and precisely balanced, this was an outstanding dish.

Central to Pollen Street Social's ethos is a commitment to sourcing top quality seasonal produce from British suppliers; exhibit A, the Wye Valley asparagus.

Mushroom tea, served from a very elegant and covetable white tea set, was next up; earthy yet delicate and a great transition into the main course.

Again, a near-impossible choice for our mains; I opted for the Cornish lamb loin with braised neck and roasted artichoke, served with a salad of crisp baby vegetables, merguez sausage and curds and whey. I can't help but think that this was a good call. The combination of the two cuts and cooking methods of lamb was really interesting, with the beautifully rare, springy loin contrasting with the deeper, soft braised meat, cut through by the sharpness of the salad. It was again one of the most beautifully plated dishes I have seen.

My companion chose the South Coast Dover sole, which was served with Cornish fish soup poured over at the table and an Orkney sea scallop on the side. If I hadn't been feeling quite so smug about the lamb, a serious case of meal envy would have ensued. 

I've never quite understood why the portions always look comparatively small in top restaurants, yet you leave feeling perfectly full. It could be that there is another little tasty something brought to you at every feasible opportunity - this one being pre-dessert and a perfect basil and foamed yoghurt ice.

I don't really have a sweet tooth but you can't really go to Pollen Street Social without having dessert, courtesy of Leo Maple and the crew. Chocolate heaven comes in the form of the bitter chocolate pave with chocolate ice cream, olive biscuit and olive oil conserve.

And just when you think you've seen it all . . . along comes the banana soufflé with the wonderfully retro rum and raisin ice cream and lime. It looks spectacular and tastes even better.

We briefly debated ordering a coffee somewhere else on the way home but decided we were way too comfortable; yet another good call, as it turned out. Not only is the coffee fabulous - single estate from El Salvador - but it comes with 'mignardises', which in this case turned out to be an array of yummy extras including chocolate ganache, Turkish delight beautifully presented in an antique tin and a Bakewell tart, still gently warm from the oven. 

Wandering around downstairs on my way to the ladies' I stumbled (did I mention the awesome house white?) across this slightly Lord of the Flies glass-sided meat locker; quite a lot of the prep takes place at bars in the dining area so you can see the masters at work.

I don't know why, but this is my favourite shot of the evening; a bit blurry, rushed, but for me - a glimpse of where the magic happens.

Yours, Michelin-star struck,

Girl About Town xx