Grilled Sea Bream with Champonzu

Champonzu is a type of ponzu sauce - that is to say, a soy sauce and yuzu mixture. Yuzu is a citrus fruit from Japan; it's lemony in flavour but much, much more fragrant, with hints of mandarin and lime. In the UK it's almost impossible to find fresh yuzu, but you can buy the skin minced in salt, or the juice extracted into bottles. It's ruinously expensive. This champonzu from The Wasabi Company isn't cheap, clocking in at £12.20 for 330ml, but it's such a unique and delicious flavour as they use 5 different types of citrus fruit in addition. You don't need much of it as a little goes a long way - I've had this bottle since last August and I think I still have another dish left in it. 

I used the champonzu to flavour grilled sea bream. It's so simple; slash the bream at a 90-ish degree angle to the spine, rub with oil and place under a hot grill to cook for 7 or 8 minutes each side, turning once. Remove from the grill and drizzle with 3 tbsp of champonzu sauce. Serve with white rice and a hefty tablespoon of ginger and spring onion magic sauce. 

This is gloriously recipe-free. A short post! Hurrah.

Mushroom & Perilla Tagliatelle

Perilla is a brilliant herb. Incredibly beautiful, with purple undersides, it's a robust leaf and it has an incredible fragrance to it. A little anise, a hint of mint, slightly medicinal, it is used across Vietnamese, Korean and Japanese cooking. It is very similar to shiso - I would find it difficult to tell the difference in a flavour test. In London, you can buy huge bunches of the stuff cheaply at Longdan in Elephant and Castle - they also have other branches. You can buy shiso leaves at The Japan Centre, but here they're not cheap at all. I bought this particular bunch for the Bun Rieu, and I was left with a huge bunch of the rest. So what to do? 

Pasta. Obviously. 

This kind of pasta, called 'wafu', is based on Japanese fusion. It takes European ingredients and fusions it with Japanese flavours. Here, I used tagliatelle and a rich butter and miso sauce to dress the pasta in. Exotic mushrooms like shimeji and brown beech mushrooms are bolstered with oyster mushrooms too. I loved this; the butter gives it a luxurious richness, and when mixed with soy sauce and miso, it really adds a whole lot of umami to those mushrooms. Shredded perilla give it an extra citrus-like freshness. 

Mushroom & Perilla Tagliatelle

Serves 2

400gr dried tagliatelle
A handful of oyster mushrooms, washed and roughly chopped
A half handful each of shimeji & brown beech mushrooms, washed well
1 clove of garlic, minced
40gr butter
2 tbsp white miso 
2 tbsp light soy sauce
A rib or two of cavalo nero or spring greens, shredded finely
1 stalk of spring onion, greens finely sliced at an angle, whites saved for another
3 perilla leaves, shredded
1 tbsp vegetable oil

Put the pasta on to cook in heavily salted water. 

Melt the butter and mix in the white miso and soy sauce until completely incorporated In a cast iron pan, add the oil and heat on high until smoking. Add the oyster mushrooms and sear for a few moments before moving them around the pan. Add the clove of garlic and stir continuously so the garlic doesn't catch. Add the shimeji and brown beech mushrooms, cook for another minute, and then add the butter miso and soy mixture, taking it off the heat as you mix it in. 

For the final minute, add the cavalo nero to the pasta cooking water, then drain, reserving 4 tbsp of the cooking water. Add the tagliatelle to the mushroom mixture and mix well, with a little of the reserved cooking water. Serve, and garnish with the spring onion and perilla leaves. 

Miso Polenta Bowl

Sometimes, an idea can be so bonkers it might just work. It was a Saturday morning and I'd risen from my hovel a bit groggy and absolutely ravenous. There was nothing in the fridge; well, besides half a courgette, an avocado ready to turn and some leftover spring onion and ginger magic sauce that is literally the best thing ever if you can be bothered to chop three whole bunches of spring onion. A lone egg rolled around on the counter-top, bumping together with three pitiful cherry tomatoes. There was no way I could face going outside. What's a girl to do? Improvise.

The nice folk over at The Wasabi Company sent me some of their sauces to try, and I've been actively addicted to the Champonzu (red top) ever since. At £12.20 for a 300ml bottle, it's going to be an expensive addiction but you don't need much of it to bring out the five different Japanese citrus fruits. It has a very savoury base, with zesty orange and yuzu notes. I wanted this in my brunch. A ferret around the cupboard revealed the only carby base available to me was polenta. An idea was born.

Typically I'd look for cheese to enrich the polenta with and give it some flavour, but... no cheese. So instead, miso for a little umaminess to pep that polenta up. It worked an absolute treat, especially once you factor in the molten gold of that soft-boiled egg.

Miso Polenta Bowl

Serves 2

150gr instant polenta
2 heaped tsp light miso
A knob of butter
Half a courgette, sliced into thick matchsticks
Half an avocado, slivered at the last minute to prevent browning
A handful of cherry tomatoes, halved
2 soft boiled eggs, peeled
2 tbsp magic spring onion and ginger sauce
1 tbsp + 1 tsp champonzu (you could use a mixture of 60% light soy, 20% mirin, 10% sake and 10% lemon and lime juice at a real push...)
1 tbsp cooking oil
1 tsp chilli oil

Bring enough water to boil (as per the packet of polenta instructions) and whisk the polenta in. Add a lid half cocked and turn the heat low, and let it cook till you hear soft plop-plopping sounds. Then stir vigorously and place the lid on fully to cook for up to 10 minutes. Keep stirring so it doesn't stick to the bottom.

Meanwhile, heat the cooking oil in a non-stick pan on a medium heat. Fry the courgette sticks until they've softened, then add the cherry tomatoes and cook further until they're starting to collapse. Add the tsp of champonzu and remove from the heat.

Check on the polenta - add a large pinch of salt and keep stirring. It should be cooked at this point. Stir in the butter and miso until it has fully incorporated. Check the seasoning.

Assemble the bowls with half the polenta in each, then top with a halved soft boiled egg, the courgette and tomato mixture, the avocado, the spring onion and ginger sauce, and drizzle with chilli oil. Use the remaining tbsp of champonzu sauce to drizzle over the avocado in each.

(Got loads of miso leftover? Not sure what to do with the rest? My book, Chinatown Kitchen, has several recipes for it.)

My Favourite Asian Restaurants in London

With less than a week to go before the publication of my first cook book, Chinatown Kitchen, I thought I'd share with you some of my favourite Asian restaurants in London. These are the places I visit often; I know what I'm getting and I know the quality is consistent. Do you agree? Disagree? Have I left anything off? Let me know!

Silk Road

Serving the more unusual Xinjiang-style food, Silk Road is wonderful. I love the tomato, green pepper and onion salad, but you mustn't miss the homestyle cabbage, homestyle aubergine, TEP noodles, dumplings and lamb skewers in particular. I don't think I've ever had a bad dish there. 

49 Camberwell Church Street, London SE5 8TR - you can reserve tables. 

Baozi Skewer Stall

There isn't room to swing a cat in here. It's simply a lady behind a counter with a bubbling pot of stock, lurid red chillis bobbing around, and the sting of Sichuan peppercorns in the air. They sell skewers at £1.20 each - I love the broccoli, and Spam. Simmered to just tender, plonked in a foil container and sprinkled with coriander if you wish, it is a most perfect snack. Don't bother with the Baozi Inn restaurant - standards have slipped since it first opened and my last meal there was a bit crap (company excluded). 

27 Newport Court, WC2H 7JS

Roti King

I wrote about the rotis so recently, I won't bother repeating myself, just that - it's GOOD. 

40 Doric Way, London NW1 1LH

Atari-Ya 

Atari-Ya has several branches, and I've only visited James Street which is predominantly takeaway. The sushi is always of a very high standard, and the fish very fresh. You should call up to place your order before you wander over, as when it is busy (which is seemingly always) it can take a while to prepare. The menu is here. 

20 James Street, London W1U 1EH

Bone Daddies / Shack Fuyu

The ramen at Bone Daddies is great. The toppings are plentiful, and the broth well flavoured. They've just opened Shack Fuyu on Old Compton Street, serving their take on Japanese dishes cooked in a huge pizza oven, a relic of the previous owners. Of this, the Kinako french toast with green tea soft-serve ice cream is pure heavenly. The rest of the menu is worth a visit too - prepare yourself for a flavour bombshell.

Ramen Sasuke

My favourite ramen of them all, though, is Sasuke's spicy miso. Sometimes it can be borderline too salty, but more often than not it is just right for my tastes. Austere and authentically Japanese within, I am always amused by Japanese businessmen slurping their noodles so enthusiastically. They do takeaway, too. 

32 Great Windmill Street, London W1

Koya Bar

My love affair with John Devitt's noodles started off at Koya, the original opening. These days, I tend to veer towards neighbouring Koya Bar instead - Koya is wonderful, but I find the atmosphere at the Bar much calmer and soothing. I love their breakfasts and I would eat there every day if I could. 

49 Frith Street London W1D 4SG

Chang's Noodle

Chang's Noodle are famous for this particular one - Henan lamb noodle soup. The broth is milky, sweet and strongly flavoured with lamb, and the wide wheat noodles are messily ripped into the broth. Braised and stewed lamb make up the rest of the bowl, with a light smattering of coriander. This is hearty stuff. This is great stuff. 

35-37 New Oxford Street, London WC1A 1BH

Dumplings Legend

This is a new one for me - I've only visited once, but I was so impressed with the quality of the xiao long bao - soup dumplings. Finally! Decent soup dumplings in London! They don't reach the heady heights of Din Tai Fung's yet, but they are decent. We enjoyed the black truffle version and the spicy pork, though don't bother with the 'special crab roe' of which seemingly a limited number of are made per day - I couldn't taste the crab roe. Other dim sum are decent, though it was a bit naughty of them to deep fry the 'grilled' pork dumplings. Beef brisket curry with rice is also excellent. 

15 - 16 Gerrard Street, Chinatown, London W1

Hung's 

I've been going to Hung's for absolute donkeys years. Since I moved to London, 11 years ago, in fact. It is basic and service can be gruff, but the crispy pork belly and king prawn dumpling noodle soup (this is a hybrid of two and needs to be asked for) has remained the best noodle soup you can buy under a fiver. I also like Wong Kei's, despite its terrible reputation for service, but Hung's quality just edges it. 

27 Wardour Street, Chinatown, London W1

Gold Mine

I am fairly convinced that Gold Mine is the best Cantonese food in London. Yup, I'm going there. The roast duck is incredible, and I drool a little thinking about it. Steamed egg custard is also brilliant. Go with a big group so that you can order lots. 

102 Queensway, London W2 3RR

Cafe East

My favourite of the Vietnamese restaurants in London, and possibly because of the Banh Cuon (rice noodle rolls). The pho is also excellent. It's in the wasteland that is Surrey Quays, but good for a pre-cinema feed. Or if you really like going bowling. 

100 Redriff Road Surrey Quays Leisure Park SE16 7LH

Smoking Goat

I enthused about Smoking Goat here, and I still feel the same way. It is punchy and in-your-face Thai food, prepared to the highest standard. Som Saa would have been here too, if only it wasn't so damn inconvenient to get to for me. 

So, those are mine. I'd love to hear about yours, both in London and elsewhere! 

Oh, and you can buy Chinatown Kitchen here!

Where to Shop in Chinatown, London

I love Chinatown. I love my Chinatown, I love Toronto's Chinatown, I love New York's Chinatown - both Flushing and Manhattan. I love Chinatown so much, I've written a cookbook about the ingredients you find in Chinatown. That's how much I love Chinatown.

Our own, just off Leicester Square, isn't huge. Three main streets - Wardour Street, Gerrard Street, Lisle Street - make up the main bulk of it, with smaller capillary streets running off and around it. It's rammed full of restaurants, shops, supermarkets and bakeries - it's never anything short of colourful and bustling.

Here are the places I like to shop for ingredients the most.

Dansey Place - parallel to Gerrard Street, it's a grimy little alleyway, and rather a daunting one to walk down. But it is home to Lo's Noodle Factory, a tiny little shop that sells rice noodles and buns. I can't say that this is the most comfortable shopping experience. It isn't really a shop - it's a bunch of cardboard boxes and industrial machinery in a room with a man who doesn't speak a great deal of English. They definitely don't take card. But they do sell silky smooth fresh flat rice noodles, called ho fun, and rice noodle rolls (chee cheung fun) as well as fluffy buns. It might be a point-and-grin situation but he's really friendly, and the noodles are so fresh they're often still warm in that slightly greasy plastic bag they're sold in. They're incomparable to dried, fresh are so much better, and it's £1 a bag. (I have a recipe in my book for seafood ho fun noodles in egg gravy...) 

Down the same alleyway, is a teeeeny tiny shop that sells fresh vegetables. Apparently it's called Mrs Mao's, after the owner who grows the vegetables at her smallholding in Kent, but it doesn't have much in the way of English signage. Bok choi, chives, mustard greens, gai laan (Chinese broccoli) are all sold here, and in a way that you can choose your own portion rather than pre-bagged.

Young Cheng Fresh Seafood Shop often sells crabs and lobsters straight from the tank, and pigs blood, clams, whelks, prawns and a variety of fresh fish from slabs of chipped ice.

Back out on to Gerrard Street proper, Loon Fung is the largest of the supermarkets and I shop there for their butcher counter. There, you can buy tripe, minced pork, tongue, pork belly and various other bits, or they have a fridge section with it pre-packaged. This place is good for general Chinese stuff.

New Loon Moon also stocks a lot of Chinese products, but their main specialism is Thai and Vietnamese produce. This is the place to go to buy herbs and vegetables like lemongrass, Thai basil, galangal and the likes. They also sell green peppercorns, krachai, Vietnamese hot mint and coriander, and even stinky petai beans. They have a vast Korean and Japanese dry goods section upstairs too.

See Woo also has branches in Greenwich and Glasgow, and this tightly packed shop is where I buy my equipment (downstairs) and also has a great variety of vegetables. They're the only place I've ever seen that sells celtuce, and their greens always look fresh and perky. They also sell my favourite soy sauce, Pearl River Premium Deluxe light soy.

Of course, not all of us have access to Central London, so a few other places to shop:

Wing Yip, Croydon & Cricklewood
Korea Foods: New Malden, Cambridge, Golders Green, Bournemouth, Birmingham, Mitcham, Reading, Coventry 
Wing Tai: Peckham, Brixton & Croydon
Wai Yee Hong, Bristol
Longdan (specialises in Vietnamese): Shoreditch, Leyton, Kingston, Elephant & Castle
Hoo Hing: Romford, Enfield, Leyton, Mitcham, Park Royal, Milton Keynes and online

Online:

Sous Chef
Japan Centre

Where do you like to shop? Where have I missed? Do you have any hidden gems? Do share!

Ramen Sasuke, Soho

In London, we're lucky that we can get virtually any cuisine under the sun, and with varying degrees of authenticity. Ramen is one of the new trends that I welcome with open arms; sure, I've never been to Japan, but I know what I love and that's a noodle soup. Bone Daddies is probably the furthest from Japan one might get - I seem to remember cheese being a feature on a specials ramen some time ago -  though this is no bad thing. Their premise is based on the traditional ramen, but they pimp it to maximum effect. Though I know many fans of it, I can't take the tonkotsu broth; it's too much for poor little me, too rich for my delicate self. Instead, I usually opt for their kimchi seafood offering, or the spicy tantanmen if I'm feeling really hungry. 

Shoryu Ramen, from the Japan Centre, is closer to its homeland; they've expanded to three sites pretty rapidly and they have a vast range of ramen available. Carnaby Street's yuzu tonkotsu is pleasantly citrus in flavour, but ultimately, over-whelmingly salty. 

Of the lot, Tonkotsu's noodles are king. Bouncy, springy and chewy, they're only let down by slightly unimaginative toppings, and on my last visit, chashu pork that was far chewier than it should have been. But those springy noodles! Every noodle-lover's dream.

My latest discovery is Ramen Sasuke; hidden down a Soho street, it feels even more Japanese than Shoryu does. As you enter the staff greet you in Japanese. Wooden benches and tables are pared back in detail, no fancies or fripperies. The menu is limited to a few ramens, some katsu curry options and on the back page, the lunch deal offers your ramen of choice, a slightly smaller-than-usual side dish for a £1.50 charge, and a free bowl of rice should you want it. It reminded me of Ippudo, where alongside your ramen you get rice with a topping for an additional $3. 

With my order of spicy miso ramen, I was given a surabachi - a traditional Japanese pestle and mortar - in which to grind the toasted sesame seeds to garnish my noodles with. It was a nice touch; some were ground to a fine powder, others I left whole for a little texture contrast. 

The spicy miso ramen came in a deep bowl, piled incredibly high. Beansprouts, marinated bamboo shoots, spring onion and sweetcorn come as standard along with a slice of incredibly tender pork. For an extra £1, I added the option of a sheet of nori and half a marinated egg, nitamago. The soup was sweet with miso, rich and flavoursome - I thought it could have been a little spicier, but easily solved by the chilli oil on the table. 

Crucially, the soup wasn't too rich and it didn't become a struggle, as I've experienced with other overly piggy broths. The noodles were in abundance; thick, yellow and appropriately springy. I didn't manage to finish them, much to my own astonishment. My friend's shoyu ramen (opening picture) was more demure, a clear broth sitting lightly on the stomach.

My side of gyoza, reduced down to 3 dumplings for the £1.50 charge, were good value. Crisp bottoms and delicate pastry up top, the filling could have done with more seasoning. 

My friend's chicken karaage was a great example of it. The batter was crisp, bubbled and light, encasing juicy chicken. The mayonnaise it was served with proved superfluous, though I enjoyed the wedge of lemon squeezed over it. 

I really loved Ramen Sasuke; it's a calm, peaceful place and on our visit was populated by only a couple of Japanese men in suits, slurping quietly away. They don't have the flamboyance of Bone Daddies, nor the variety of menu of Shoryu, but what they do have is a really good quality bowl of noodles, for a great price; all that with a drink set me back £15. 

Ramen Sasuke

32 Great Windmill Street
London W1D 7LR

Closed Mondays, no reservations

Posh Breakfasting: Koya Bar... Again.

This month's episode of Posh Breakfasting is actually a repeat. I know. All those places to go and eat, and I revisit Koya Bar. I couldn't help it. The lure of a curry for breakfast was all too much for me. 

This was a piping hot bowl of vegetable curry udon. The gravy had chunks of carrot and taro in, as well as green onion. On a day as baltic as it was, washed down with a pot of hot Japanese tea, it was just the thing to power up my morning. My friend's kedgeree made with rice, cooked down to a porridge was cleansing and sweet in comparison to my big ballsy bowlful. The curry udon is not for the faint-hearted, I'll grant you that, but if you're the kind of person who could really eat anything for breakfast, it's a pretty great option. 


Koya Bar
50 Frith Street,
London, W1D 4SQ

No Reservations 
Opens 8:30am for breakfast

Miso-Braised Pork Belly

Winter is coming. I don't feel like I can really complain all that much, given that we actually had a decent hot, sunshine-filled summer which hasn't happened since 2004, but that was Very Long Time Ago. Nevertheless, I'm quite a fan of the changing of seasons. I'm autumn's child, but I also love it when the trees turn colour and you can crunch through piles of bronzed leaves, throwing them in the air like you're in Vermont or something, and oh! Those days you get when the sky is blue and the air cold enough to sting your nose a little and you come home to a warming cup of cocoa.

That's all bollocks of course, as was completely evident by my grim cycle home. Autumn in London is grey, windy and miserable. I was soaked to the bone, covered in car filth, and still reeling from screaming across the Elephant & Castle roundabout, desperately trying to see through rain-splattered glasses, in the dark. But I can console myself with the fact that this is one of the best eating times of year. Sweetcorn is in abundance - if you don't like sweetcorn you're dead to me - and those iron-rich brassicas. Mid-cycle, I stopped off at General Store, which is a gorgeous little shop selling top quality cured meats, cheeses, seasonal vegetables and other bits and pieces. I left with kale and chard and oregano and patty pan squashes and I was THIS CLOSE to buying a 'beer stick' (a slim cured salami-type-thing) to chew on the way home, such is the loveliness of everything in that place. My local greengrocer told me that that was the first time in 5 weeks my beloved mooli (an Asian turnip, also called daikon) was finally back in stock. 

Mooli is most often seen in Japanese restaurants, shaved raw into a pile with your sushi. I much prefer it cooked; when done so, especially with meat, it becomes sweet and tender. It takes on the flavours of whatever you're cooking it in, which on this occasion was pork belly and miso. The miso makes the whole stew comforting, sweet but also imparts that essential umami, as it's made from fermented soybeans. I use a combination of red and white miso, the latter giving the dish a deeper saltiness, the white sweeter and milder in flavour. The pork, slowly braised until the meat falls apart in your mouth and the fat becomes silky and flavoursome, is still one of my favourite cuts of meat, despite the over-exposure it now gets on menus. It's the very essence of warming. 

A note on the pork belly. I use skin-on simply because I like the way the skin turns gelatinous and wobbly after a long braising. Asians will say that using skin in there adds collagen to the stew and keeps your skin supple - I don't know if that's actually true - but it sure does make it sticky and delicious. If you're a little squeamish about it simply remove the skin before you cook it, I won't judge you (MUCH). I served this with white rice and some rainbow chard and fresh shiitake mushrooms, stir-fried in garlic and ginger.

Miso-Braised Pork Belly 

Serves 4 greedy people, and would serve 6 with a couple of side dishes 

700gr skin on or off pork belly - if yours comes with ribs, simply take them off and use them for another dish, or stock, or congee 
1 white onion, sliced finely
190ml sake
2 tsp red miso
3 tbsp white miso
1 tbsp mirin
1.5 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tsp sugar
700ml water
450gr mooli / daikon - peeled and sliced into rounds about 1 inch thick
2 spring onions

Cut the pork belly into large cubes and place in a pot of boiling water. Boil for a couple of minutes; this is so that any scum comes floating to the surface now, and not in your stew. 

Drain, rinse and set the saucepan back on the heat. Add a little oil, then add the white onions in a layer on the bottom. You don't want them cooking much at the moment. Add the pork belly in a layer on top. Pour over the sake, then the water. Cut a piece of parchment paper so that it fits into the pot nicely, then place the lid on. Cook on a low heat (you want a bare simmer) for 1.5 hours. 

Add the mirin, light soy and sugar as well as the mooli, re-cover and cook for another hour. By now, the pork belly and the mooli should be tender, if not, cook a little longer. Discard the parchment, take out some of the stock, mix into the miso until it dissolves, then add to the stew. Cook on the barest simmer - don't boil, as it ruins any nutritional benefit in the miso - for another 15 minutes. 

Slice the whites of the spring onion and add to the stew. Julienne the greens of the spring onion and set aside for garnish. 

This isn't a thick stew as much of the liquid hasn't been evaporated off, so best to serve it in a large bowl or a pasta dish. Serve over white rice and garnish with spring onion. 

Koya Bar, Frith Street

It's no secret that I turn into a squealing fan-girl whenever Koya is mentioned. It's probably up there to be one of my favourite restaurants in London. Their udon noodles revolutionised my hangovers; grease and filth sends me over the edge when I'm feeling delicate, so their cleansing broths, simple flavours and comforting slow-cooked eggs (onsen tamago) have helped me out of many a sticky situation. When not hungover - it happens - the Specials board is always an exciting surprise, dishes so lovely that I often sulk when they're only there for a day or two (I'm looking at you, udon fries). Judging by the queues, I'm not their only fan-girl.

So, the news that Mooli's next door had closed down and was then snapped up by Koya for another little place (Koya Bar) brought joy to my udon-craving heart. Scheduled to officially open on Monday 2nd September, I happened to walk past and spy people dining there. They opened a week early on the sly. 

The menu, surprisingly, was exactly the same as Koya. I looked through it once, turned it over, looked again - and then I spied some mackerel grilling above a flame. John, the owner, explained to me that actually Koya Bar will be serving that classic menu, but also breakfast. That grilling fish was part of a breakfast dish, and they kindly let me try it out. It was exactly what you'd want from a grilled piece of fish; smoky, firm, a little sweet, a little salty from the glaze, crisp skin. Lightly pickled pink ribbons and a pile of grated daikon refreshed the palate in between bites. 

A plate of tempura vegetables and a bowl of fried tofu and spring onion udon noodles (kizame on the menu) confirmed that all was well and running smoothly. 

I, of course, went back as soon as I could - their first breakfast service, in fact.

A selection of udon noodles are on offer (bravely, the curry option too) as well as some porridge dishes. It's not the usual with oats though - porridge made with rice, what we know as congee or 'juk' in Cantonese. I ordered the kedgeree; textured, thick rice porridge was flavoursome and generous with silky smoked haddock. On top nestled a slow-poached egg, whites wobbly and yolk runny. 

Decorated with fish skin crisps, a little dish of shaved bonito (used once already for the restaurant's dashi stock) mixed with sesame seeds are for scattering on top. It was, truly, a brilliant bowlful. 

We couldn't rightly go and miss out on the English breakfast udon - which was bacon and egg. This was also delicious; the bacon was cooked until floppy, not crisp, but the dashi broth took on its flavour well. It was a little hard to break the bacon slices up without being entirely covered in soup, but it was the cleanest, healthiest-feeling 'fry-up' I'd come across. 

I can't wait to go back to try the udon with raw egg and soy. Or the curry udon. Or the porridge with pickles. I'm even coming round to natto, those sticky fermented soy beans, which we were given just because I wanted to see my boyfriend squirm while trying it. 

So, while Koya Bar retains the classic menu with breakfast opening hours and a focus on sake and beer, I'm told that the original Koya will move in a different, more Specials-led direction. I can't wait to see what they come up with. 

Koya Bar
50 Frith Street,
London, W1D 4SQ

No Reservations 
Opens 8:30am for breakfast

Toast, East Dulwich

Having been a resident of East Dulwich for over a year now, I've been completely slack at exploring the restaurants in my 'hood. I've often been to Peckham, Camberwell and Brixton for dinner, but East Dulwich has been neglected - maybe because the majority of restaurants on Lordship Lane seem to be Indian restaurants and kebab shops (Hisar is my favourite). I love a good curry, but I'm put off by the generic menus and buffet options.

Toast stands out with a white frontage and orange lettering, a shining beacon next to Cafe Nero. It used to be Green and Blue, which was a lovely wine shop. They've carried the wine theme, with the name derived from a drinks toast, rather than everything being served on toast. The wine menu lists shop prices and eating in prices; a diverse thing, spanning an interesting list with some natural and orange wines on there. You can purchase a container from them and stop in to refill from their vats of wine when you need to. This is a pretty appealing concept for me and my wino-like ways. The room was lined with bottles of wine, and the waiting staff were all incredibly knowledgable about it.

I was having dinner with a regular of Toast, and we boldly declared 'one of everything!' for the four of us. We were rewarded with an impressively inventive meal.

 

The menu reads in terse, ingredient-led format. A dish of fluffy, creamy labneh-like cheese was adorned with onions, dill and a crispy breadcrumb. We smeared it on bread, and then took to eating it with just spoons. The fresh cheese had a mousse-like consistency, making it light rather than rich. 'Leek, potato and cheddar' was like the poshest cheesy leeks you'll come across; perfectly steamed new potatoes with a little bite, with silky leeks in a creamy, rich sauce. I found this dish hard to share.

One of my favourite dishes of the night was the 'raw mackerel, ginger, white soy'. Beautifully presented, the fish was firm and fresh, the savoury-sweet soy binding the dish together. The chef there obviously likes a Japanese influence; an off-menu gift he sent us of seared monkfish liver and monkfish bone marrow came with a Japanese chilli-spiked dipping sauce. Having never tried monkfish liver, I was hugely impressed by it; smooth, rich and mildly flavoured. The bone marrow was like a tiny jelly, slurped out of a bone cup.

Crab, broccoli and sorrel was a pretty plate, but pretty much a sum of its parts; it was exactly as it said it was. I wondered if some sort of dressing might have been beneficial. Girolles, figs and parsley was the only dish we didn't really enjoy; there was a lot of wet and soft elements, relieved only by the crunch of fresh almonds. 

We were back on track with 'broad beans, grains, onion'. This dish reminded me a lot of a dish I had at The Grain Store; it was just as good. Crunchy quinoa was scattered over a creamy grain - pearl barley perhaps? Or spelt. I'm not up on my grains. Slivers of pickled, charred onion broke through the creaminess and elevated it for a more interesting flavour range. 

A dish new to the kitchen was 60-day aged beef tartare, and it was the dish that impressed me the most. The meat was flavoursome, made more so by cubes of bone marrow. The iron-rich kale was essential in bringing out the flavours of the meat, and it was all brought together with a little salinity by a sauce made from oysters. This was really very stunning. 

We had a little breather, and then the larger dishes (priced around the £13 - £15 mark) came out. Tender slices of rose-pink lamb rested atop pureed aubergine, with a little curd and some sweet roasted tomatoes. A bit of a mish-mash of ingredients, nevertheless they worked really well. Monkfish with raw turnip was quite similar to haddock with fennel and anchovy; by this point I was fit to burst and wasn't paying much attention, though they look pretty and I remember the fish being cooked very well. I'm now kicking myself for not ordering dessert. 

So, all in all, an incredibly impressive meal. Sure, it's not cheap for a neighbourhood restaurant but I resent that places should charge less just because they're not in Central London; food should be charged on the merit of the quality of ingredients, and the skill of the chef. 

I live a 10 minute walk away. They do wine tastings, 3 - 5pm on Saturdays. I've turned into an incredibly smug East Dulwichian. 

Toast
36-38 Lordship Lane, 
London, SE22 8HJ

Tel: 020 8693 9021