Salon, Brixton

We weren't the easiest lunch customers. Having faffed around with my booking no less than three times - "Thursday night? Sunday lunch? there's 5 of us! No, 6! No, 5!", we showed up at Salon in Brixton some of us hungover and bleary-eyed, a toddler in tow. Located above Cannon & Cannon, the meat and cheese deli in Market Row, the small dining room sat 25 or so, an open-plan kitchen small enough for only a few chefs to squidge in.

Happily we didn't have to do anything so strenuous as actually making a decision for what to eat as the menu is set. Usually 4 courses, this particular Sunday we were treated to 5 in honour of the Burn's Night passed.

A plate piled high with crispy fingers of lamb were greaseless and faultless, the breadcrumbs giving way to tender lamb shoulder within. The lamb came from Flock & Herd in Peckham, evidence of careful meat sourcing. A punchy mint sauce studded with tiny capers was essential to each bite and when we ran out of lamb, we carried on eating the sauce.

Their take on cullen skink was a comforting little bowlful, silky in texture and generous with the smoky flavour of the haddock. Seaweed flecked the soup and crunchy croutons bobbed within, retaining their crunch throughout. 

Partridge was presented on a board to share, a breast and a wing each. The bird was simply cooked and accompanied with rye bread mayo; we all dipped our fingers in it for a proper taste and the rye of the bread came through well. Vibrant pickled red cabbage rounded each mouthful off nicely. Partridge isn't my favourite bird but nevertheless I gobbled my portion up.

My favourite course was the mutton faggot served with greens and mashed swede. A dense shiny meatball, it was juicier than it looked. The slight flavour of offal came through but not enough to be off-putting (I'll admit it, I'm a liver-avoider). Mashed swede was intensely sweet, offset well by the broccoli-like floret, more bitter than I'm used to. 

Finally, dessert of whiskey semifreddo with poached rhubarb and oats arrived. The semifreddo, like the lightest whipped ice cream, had a just-discernible hint of whiskey. Rhubarb was served as poached sticks but also as a puree and the dish was garnished with face-puckeringly raw slivers. This was loved universally; the individual portion gifted to the kid was pilfered by the adults. 

Service was sweet and accommodating; not an eyelid was batted when forks were swept onto the floor and spoons banged against the table when we didn't catch it in time. The head chef himself, Nicholas Balfe came out to introduce a few of the dishes and it's evident they have a real pride in their ingredients and dishes. At £30 for the set menu, it was great value, and we all left happy and with a mind to return. 

Salon
Upstairs at Cannon & Cannon
18 Market Row
Brixton
London SW9 8LD

Tel: 020 7501 9152
info@salonbrixton.co.uk

(Worth noting that while we took a toddler there and didn't have any problems, the bathrooms aren't really equipped with child-changing facilities.) 

Clam Pasta

Clam pasta, otherwise known as vongole, is one of my favourite pasta dishes. Traditionally Neapolitan, this dish is made both with and without tomatoes. I prefer it as the latter made with white wine (of course), so that the silky sauce coats the strands of spaghetti transparently, flecked with red chilli and parsley. It is total simplicity, and in the amount of time it takes to cook the pasta, the wine should have reduced and the clams wide-mouthed and ready to be incorporated into the pasta. 

The final cooking of the spaghetti with the clam sauce is quite important, as it allows the pasta to soak up some of the juices. I clickity clacked through my bowl in record time. 

Spaghetti alle Vongole

Serves 3

900gr live clams (mine came from Moxon's)
400gr dried spaghetti
3 fat cloves of garlic
1 red chilli (use a fat long one; a bird's eye would be too much here)
200ml white wine
A hefty handful of flat-leaf parsley, chopped finely
1/2 a lemon, zested and juiced
A knob of butter
1 tbsp olive oil
Salt & pepper

Rinse the clams in plenty of cold running water for 10 minutes. 

In a large pan, melt the butter and the oil together. Slice the garlic finely, and mince the chilli. Add this to the pan with the lemon zest to sweat gently on a low heat. Add the white wine and simmer well until half the liquid has evaporated. 

Boil some water for the spaghetti and set the pasta on. 

Add the clams to the wine sauce and place a lid on top - cook on a high heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Check them and as soon as they look as if most of them have opened take them off the heat. 

By now, your pasta should be al dente (or, take it off the heat when it is). Drain and add the pasta to the clams, tossing and stirring gently over the residual heat of your hob until all of it is combined. Add the lemon juice and the parsley, season to taste with salt and pepper and serve immediately. 

Chap Chye

Ah, January, the month of austerity and dieting. I did try, I really did but in making Chap Chye, some pork ribs just happened to slip in. I couldn't help it; they slipped out of the pack, shimmied their way under my knife and leapt into the pot. There really was nothing I could do about it. Otherwise though, this is a nice and healthy stew. 

Of Nyonya origin, this is normally vegetarian but sometimes not. Fermented red bean curd is usually used to flavour it and it's not for the faint-hearted. Open the lid of the jar and give it a good whiff - chances are you'll do a little retch. Fish a cube out, mash it, and then fry it and the smell transforms, much like the Thai shrimp paste (which actually I like the smell of pre and post cooking. I know I am in the minority here). 

The main components of this stew are mostly dried which makes it pretty handy to have the ingredients at hand. They're also mainly found at Chinese supermarkets. Cabbage and carrots cooked within it make the stew sweet from the vegetables, and deeply earthy from the mushrooms. Shiitake mushrooms and black fungus are both used, creating a good contrast in textures; you get squidgy and crunchy and slippery all at once. Eaten with a bit of rice, this was comforting and warming. 

Chap Chye

Serves 4 with rice and a vegetable side dish

50gr pork ribs or pork belly, chopped into bitesize chunks
8 dried shiitake mushrooms
20gr dried black fungus
1 carrot, peeled and roll cut
A few leaves of white cabbage or napa cabbage, cut into squares
6 sticks of dried tofu bamboo
A few dried lily bulbs (optional if you can find them)
50gr glass noodles, soaked in hot water
1 cube of red fermented beancurd
5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 inch of ginger, minced
1 tsp sugar
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp dark soy sauce
2 tsp light soy sauce
1 stalk of spring onion
1 tsp sesame oil

Place the mushrooms and black fungus in a large bowl and cover with boiling water. Cover with a small plate and leave for 15 mins. Do the same in another bowl with the tofu bamboo and lily bulbs. 

Heat up the wok with a tablespoon of oil. Add the pork ribs and brown well. Turn the heat down and add the mashed red beancurd and the garlic and ginger. 

Add the carrot and mix well. Reserve the mushroom water and slice the shiitake mushroom in half, discarding the stem. Add to the wok, along with the black fungus (chopped into bite size pieces). Add the mushroom water (though strain, as it may be gritty) which should be at around 200ml and then add the oyster sauce, soy sauces and sugar. Add the tofu bamboo and lily buds and simmer for 30 mins gently. Add a little more water if it's looking dry. Add the cabbage and stir until combined, simmer for another 15 minutes for white cabbage, 5 minutes for napa cabbage. Finally add the drained noodles and simmer for a few more minutes, it should thicken up a little. 

Garnish with spring onion sliced diagonally, and drizzle the sesame oil over it. 

Bone Daddies

You may have heard of this new little ramen place called Bone Daddies. There's been some excitement since its opening in early November, or perhaps I just follow noodle nerds. I sat back and watched it all unfold on Twitter, as picture after picture of bowls of tonkotsu littered my Twitter feed. 

I sulked over it. Deep into Vegan Month, tonkotsu was not going to be mine. Made by boiling pig bones until you get the pure essence of pork, it is made milky white by collagen and fat (mmm!) and flavour released from the bones. As soon as veganism was over and done with, I ran down there to try it out for myself. 

Crazed by meat-lust, we kicked off with some decent fried chicken (£5); perfectly crispy and juicy, pepped up with a bit of lemon. Soft shell crab (£8) looked like creatures of the deep reaching out to you. Again, expertly fried they were meaty and served with a lime-spiked sauce. 

I ordered my 'T22' with extra broth (£3!) - I was somewhat over-excited... - which in hindsight wasn't really necessary and swamped the cock scratchings (stop sniggering at the back, it's chicken skin, fried) and rendered them lost in the brothy depths. Nonetheless, the clear soy-based broth was the very essence of chicken. Soft-boiled nitamago (soy marinated egg) was eggy fudgy heaven. Noodles had a decent pull to them and fat coated my lips, making them sticky, like a natural lip balm. I liked it but it wasn't the noodly epiphany everyone had me believe it would be.

It wasn't until I went back for more that I really fell in love with the place.

At 7:30pm on a Friday night, unsurprisingly there was a queue. With an eye on our watches for our impending cinema date, we still managed to get sat down quickly, within half an hour of when we first joined the queue. Cabbage with miso (£2.50) was an addictive and moreish little snack; the leaves were not quite the sulphurous tang of fully raw cabbage yet they still retained a crunch, and the miso sauce was punchy and flavoursome. That soft shell crab had to be ordered again. 

This time, I heeded chef Ross Shonan's advice and went for the standard, non-extra-brothed version. The tantanmen (£10) had a rich sesame-flavoured thick broth, garnished with minced pork as well as chilli and a bit of chicken. Extra corn I added, because there is not a lot that isn't improved with extra corn. Spicy and filling, it was perfect for a cold night, like a big fat hug from the inside. 

I'm already planning my next trip. For roughly £20 a head with starters and sans booze, it's a casual dinner but one made with a lot of expertise and skill. Their cocktails looked pretty decent, and we had a lovely canteloupe sake that the house kindly gifted us.

It might make me fat. I'm ok with that. 

Bone Daddies
31 Peter Street
London W1F 0AR

Honey & Co., Fitzrovia

Honey & Co. is a tiny little restaurant tucked away in the deepest depths of Fitzrovia. Serving food from the Middle East, chef Sarit Packer has a good pedigree for this style, having worked at Ottolenghi and Nopi. We made a late lunch booking; with only a handful of tables, the place was busy and bustling. Once squeezed in, we ordered some meze to share (£5 per person); hummus was smooth and creamy, aubergines roasted and marinated in a piquant sauce. Cheese pastry triangles I thought may have been better warmed, but little balls of a mozzerella-like cheese served with a herby green dressing were great. A tomato, bulghar wheat and caper mixture was scooped up greedily into warm pitta breads.

We had a pretty hard time trying to decide on mains and we delighted our host by opting for all of them to share (bar the vegetarian dish, because, well...). Sea bream (above) in a spiced tomato sauce, cute in its cast iron pot was spicy but balanced, the delicate flavour of the fish coming through. Lamb was pulled into soft chunks and piled on top of a flat bread, scattered with pickled vegetables and shiny pink pomegranate seeds. Pick of the bunch was a chicken dish that was topped with fried vermicelli strands; I thought the dish a little over-sweet but my friends disagreed. And that veal shank (below) was tender enough to dispose of the knife, pulling away from the bone with ease and sweetened with the fruit.  

Desserts arrived, and while not usually one for sweet things the chocolate mousse particularly took my heart; whipped into lightness, the dark chocolate was heavily flavoured with cardamom. Flakes of salt decorated the top - perhaps why I liked it so much - which gave it an interesting sweet / savoury dimension. I concentrated on this while my friends made their way through a beautiful-looking plum and mascarpone cake, and some sort of whipped cream concoction topped with blueberries and hazelnuts. 

Wine was served in stubby glasses, a Verdiccio that was startlingly easy to drink as we whiled away the afternoon there. It's not fancy; we sat slightly cramped amongst paper tablecloths, but it was comfortable and casual; Itamar who served us was so jolly and friendly. They have the most adorable bathroom so make sure you visit it. For roughly £30 a head, we ate handsomely and left happy. 

Other people have been for breakfast which looks equally as good - pastries are clearly their strong point. They do have slightly odd opening hours (see below) though. 

Honey & Co. 
25a Warren Street
W1T 5LZ
0207 388 6175

Mon-Wed 7:30 - 19:00 
Thu-Fri 7:30 - 22:30
Sat 9:00 - 17:00 
Closed Sunday

The Lost Posts of 2012

So that was 2012. The burger scene, already saturated, exploded. Ramen bars appeared and enhanced my waist band with porky goodness. A bout of veganism made me appreciate meat more. Here are some places I went to but never quite got round to writing about.

I first tried Patty & Bun when they were doing a residency at The Endurance. The burgers were a perfect middle-ground between the higher-end burgers that Hawksmoor and Goodman sell - you know, that uniform puck of a patty, the sharp slice of cheese, crisp vegetables - and the sloppier, dirtier, Meat Liquor-esque burgers. Now they've opened a no reservation 30-seater on James Street; the Ari Gold cheeseburger is a favourite, the Smoky Robinson following close behind. 

Peruvian food had a bit of a moment. Ceviche opened up in Soho, which I've still not managed to visit, but I did get along to Lima in Fitzrovia for a work lunch. Most of the menu was littered with ingredients I didn't recognise and the dishes were excitingly vibrant, the ceviche in particular a highlight. I loved their crockery. 

Mishkins was a slow burner for me. When they first opened I enjoyed my meal there enough. The Jewish-style food wasn't something I'd encountered before; it was all very new to me and slowly but surely I found myself visiting more often. I'm a sucker for their cured herring on beetroot with pickled cucumbers. Their offering at Feast (Islington Square) was an English muffin stuffed with salt beef and pickles and it was one of the best dishes I ate that day.

One of the best lunchtime scoffings I've had this year was at Noodle Oodle. Although they refused us water unless we bought bottled, I still loved their hand pulled noodles topped with crisp-skinned roasted duck; tender juicy meat, still on the bone for maximum flavour and that sweet, lacquered skin, nestled within silky noodles with decent pull.

Best Sunday pub lunch I've had this year goes to The Thatched House. Out of my comfort zone in West London, I hiked out to Ravenscourt Park for a post-veganism treat from Osh, who manages it and the excellent Ship in Wandsworth. I've long pooh-poohed roast dinners in pubs, finding that the meat is always grey / tough / not enough of it, or the vegetables are watery and unimaginative; here we found the roast sirloin beautifully cooked, the vegetables plentiful. Any pub that serves cauliflower cheese as well as 3 other vegetables gets my vote. Preceded by a perfect Scotch egg and finishing with an outrageous sticky toffee pudding, I waddled home with happy memories.

Back Eastwards in Hackney, we visited Little Georgia several times. For dinner, a sharing platter of vegetable salads, cheesy breads and meats were bargainous and tasty. Georgian food was novel and exciting, often heavily flavoured with dill and garlic. One of my sandwiches of the year was a lunchtime offering from them; fresh herby focaccia stuffed with salty cheese, hams and vegetables, it was bigger than by face and, toasted, was a melty tasty feast. At under a tenner I felt like I was robbing them. 



I haven't been great at keeping up with new openings. While the masses flocked to openings like MEATMarket, Dabbous, Ben Spalding at John Salt (who is now not at John Salt...), Brasserie Zedel and Bubbledogs&, I felt a bit ambivalent with the hype surrounding them and chose instead to re-visit places I knew I loved. 

I guess a lot of it has to do with how much disposable income you have. I went back to The Ledbury in August, my 6th visit in total. I knew it wouldn't disappoint me, you see, and when you spend a pretty monumental amount of money on a meal, if it is sub-standard it is pretty crushing. The Ledbury was as good as ever; no finer Saturday afternoon is to be had than spending a sunny lunch on their terrace.

Barrafina's quail with aioli still remains to this day a dish I drool at the memory of. I tormented myself with memories of this during my vegan trial. The queues as yet still haven't put me off; I've never queued less than 45 minutes for a meal there, but queue I will. 

Koya is still one of my favourite places to eat. The simple, utilitarian dining room, with shared tables and communal chopstick pots is always packed full of noodle slurpers. The specials board has gone from strength to strength this year, but no more so than when James Lowe collaborated with them for a couple of days; tiny prawns to be eaten whole, in fennel sauce was a highlight. 

Pitt Cue was where we chose to eat after our vegan bout ended. During the summer, their trailer on the Southbank provided light relief from the queues of Soho. The Trailer Trash - a pulled pork burger with pickles and a round of deep-fried macaroni cheese - shortened my life expectancy by at least a year. When we visited in December, again we queued for 40 minutes and it was worth every one of them. Cured belly pork with cranberry ketchup made my head swim. Bone marrow mash with an intense gravy was as delicious as ever. Pork ribs were smoky but retained bite; none of that fall-off-the-bone sticky sweetness I dislike in many barbecue restaurants.

And it's about time I ate some of my words, at least. When I first visited Duck Soup for lunch in September 2011, I liked the food but was lukewarm at best, finding it expensive and the portions a little meagre. Two visits at dinner later has changed that; I still find it expensive, having spent at least £40 a head both times while being restrained in ordering and foregoing dessert, but nevertheless the dishes have been delicious and the wine unusual - both times we were besotted with a vin nouveau from Puzelat-Bonhomme. 

It was this logic I applied to multiple visits to 10 Greek Street, visiting twice for lunch and then once for dinner. It was the latest visit that made me finally give up on them, having been served a gritty mushroom dish that had to be sent back. 

Disappointment of the year was a lunch at Roganic. I visited when Ben Spalding was cooking and I liked my meal there. I liked that the dishes were inventive, the foraged herbs foreign to me. This time, post-Ben, I found the atmosphere cold and uninviting. Each dish was introduced with pomp, our conversations interrupted and with a little awkward squirming as the waiters endeavoured to get the dish descriptions across. Each dish certainly looked beautiful but when we emerged from the restaurant, one of the party observed that she barely remembered any of the dishes; indeed, I only remembered the dishes I disliked (two of ten) with any vividness.

For me, 2013 doesn't hold a year of Michelin star collecting. I've found myself slightly jaded with high-end food; I simply enjoy myself more in a more casual environment. Budget allowing, I will of course go back to The Ledbury as it's my One True Restaurant Love but otherwise you'll find me covered in burger grease, splattered in ramen stains with a little fried chicken in my hair. 

Mama Lan's, Brixton

Mama Lan's won't win any prizes for the most comfortable dining experience. The same can be said for many of the new restaurants that have opened up in Brixton Village. Under the strip lighting, a lot of the tables are set in the hallway of the Village. Chilly and cramped, people still queue up for tables patiently. There's a good variety though; burgers jostle with Thai food, okonomiyaki with pizza. Come prepared - it's all about the layers - and you'll have a pretty good time. 

We visited on Friday night and did a circuit of both sides of the Village and Market Row before settling on Mama Lan's. A short menu holds a choice of noodle soups, a variety of Beijing-style dumplings and a couple of sides. Fried chicken (above) was as good as fried chicken gets. Crisp exterior, juicy meat and a slick of sweet chilli oil, we devastated the napkin box making our way through these. 

Pork and Chinese leaf dumplings were fried then steamed, for that all-important crunchy base. Where the insides were a little scarce, the juiciness of them made up for it. My friend squirted me when she bit into one. The skins were obviously handmade - rougher and thicker than gyoza, and typically Beijing style. 

Beef noodle soup was generous with the beef, if a little one note, but it was nicely spicy and the meat tender. Wheat noodles were well cooked; chewy and smooth. A little vegetable wouldn't have gone astray. 

Tofu and mushroom noodle soup was refreshing and soothing, the stock flavoured with the shiitake mushrooms. Deep fried tofu puffs are so good in soup - they soak the liquid up like a sponge, to deposit it in your mouth under the resistance of teeth. 

Service was efficient and friendly, and though people were waiting we didn't feel rushed to finish off our bottle of wine. Someone nearby played Spanish-sounding songs on a guitar (look, music isn't my strong point ok?) and it felt like we could've been on holiday if it wasn't so freaking cold. For a little over £20 a head, it was a handsome dinner. 

Casa Morita, in Brixton Market Row is my favourite place for drinks. A couple of mezcal margaritas finished off our evening nicely. 

Mama Lan's
Brixton Village Market
Unit 18
Coldharbour Lane
London
SW9 8PR 

(No reservations, cash only, see website for opening times)