Review: Jikoni, Marylebone

Jikoni

Jikoni

So I think effectively Jikoni‘s sensibility comes from Kenya, but specifically the Indian diaspora that settled there a few generations ago and adapted their cuisine a bit. There’s also a scattering of modern British ingredients and ideas. The prices are totally out of whack with the dishes they put in front of you. Please don’t say “but it’s an expensive part of town…” this is London and you can hop districts in 15 minutes.

The first bite, dhal makhni and cheddar croquettes, were very good indeed. The spicy dhal lifted the aged cheddar really cleverly and the accompanying carrot achaar added a sweet-bright note. Then we had our starters. First up were charred Brussels sprouts in a hot-and-sour dressing, topped with a good sprinkle of bonito flakes, another very good jumble of flavours and a brave amount of sticky blackening on the sprout halves. The other starter was a woodland mushroom vol-au-vent, and while the mushrooms in their sweetly earthy gravy were good, the vol-au-vent case was stiff and chewy. It tasted worse for being a £16 starter!

Scrag end pie

Scrag end pie

My main was a scrag-end pie which they described as an Indian take on a shepherd’s pie, with saffron mash on top. For £32 I was looking forward to seeing what they’d done with this idea. Nothing, really. It was indeed a dish with curried slow-cooked lamb, topped with saffron mash. It was very nice. But my eyebrow was definitely skyward by now.

Across the table Maureen had scallops with congee in a turmeric and lemongrass broth. The fragrant lemongrass came through very nicely, the congee was as it should be. But this was a starter-sized portion. Especially in the scallop department; four button specimens. Maureen is a small eater and can survive a whole day on a packet noodle, but even she needed a snack by the time we got home. I don’t usually pepper my reviews with individual dish prices but… £36?!

So three courses at Jikoni will set you back £55 each without drinks. It needs to be a whole quantum higher in ambition and execution to justify that. Eye-watering.

Scallop congee

Scallop congee

Review: Noodle and Snack, Fitzrovia

Braised beef noodles

Braised beef noodles

I’ve never been to northern China, but with Chinese cinema gradually spreading I’ve built an impression of giant anonymous housing complexes, warrens of neon-lit shophouses and eateries, huge brown rivers snaking through vast plains covered in crops under chilly grey skies. Feels like the kind of place you need simple, heart-warming and flavour-packed starch.

Noodle + Snack in a little Fitzrovia side street is getting popular, probably due to a recent review in one of the nationals. That’s the only reason we’d have ever known it existed! But we only had a five minute wait for lunch, mainly because they took a little wooden picnic table from outside and squished it into the dining room between two of the other tables. “For you! Hope it’s not too small?” We all grinned, because it was a few inches lower than the other tables so it looked like we were on the kid’s table.

Shredded potato

Shredded potato

We each ordered a bowl of noodles, and shared a dish of shredded potato and chilli. This is a dead simple side dish, the julienne potato just soaking up the fiery and tangy dressing. Maureen chose the sour and spicy Chongqing noodles, with black vinegar in the broth and a really hefty punch. I went with braised beef noodles, and the beef was full of earthy, spicy flavours and just wonderful, the broth a soothing ramen-like stock (I felt quite ready to head out onto the vast plains and tend my crops under a leaden sky after this!). They are very proud of their house-made wheat noodles, and justly so; they had a lovely bite and a really wheaty-nutty flavour.

That’s it. I think the bill was £35 for both of us with some green tea. Absolutely vital place to know in Fitzrovia. There’s soooo much more on the menu.

Chongqing noodle

Chongqing noodle

Review: Sushi on Jones, King’s Cross

Sushi on Jones

Sushi on Jones

Mysterious and tricky to find, this one. Tucked away upstairs in the corner of a little food court near the canal, with no signs outside. Feels like a secret. Maybe that’s the idea?

The concept at Sushi on Jones is nice and Japanese-y, a tiny twelve-seater that offers a 12 or 20 course omakase sushi menu and a handful of specials. The menu only takes 45 minutes for the 12 courses and a bit longer for 20. Absolutely definitely nothing but sushi. We almost had it to ourselves, because there was some kind of England World Cup game going on at the same time and maybe that had caused a few cancellations.

Hokkaido scallop

Hokkaido scallop

Our chef and sous-chef are both quiet spoken but friendly and they move skilfully about the tiny space building and serving the sushi with neat proficiency. It’s a very good mixture, well chosen seasonings on some of them. Halibut, sea bream, scallop, prawn, yellowtail, sea bass, sea urchin, mackerel, salmon, tuna, fatty tuna and wagyu beef, none of them a duffer. The rice is still everso slightly warm and perfectly cooked. Bit of summer truffle on the yellowtail absolutely fills the mouth with flavour. Tiny dice of cucumber on the salmon works perfectly to cut the fattiness. Sprinkle of black sea salt on the scallop intensifies the flavour of what is a really beautiful sturdy and creamy bit of shellfish.

The scallop is the standout dish for me, and I’m intrigued to learn that it has flown all the way over from Hokkaido. There’s seafood from British waters and from Spain too. And maybe there’s nothing like a Hokkaido scallop? The 12 course menu is £45 and that’s a fair reflection of the range and quality of fish beautifully prepared. It’s a light meal, though, so if you’ve got a bigger appetite than me (many do!) you might feel it’s a bit steep and for less than an hour’s sit-down too. I’ll be back though.

Wagyu beef

Wagyu beef

Review: Pham, Barbican

Eel spring roll concoction

Eel spring roll concoction

Pham is a little Japanese restaurant, useful to know in the culinary wasteland around the Barbican. It’s nothing special though. One of those very typical UK-Japanese restaurants that offers everything; sushi, tempura, donburi, teppenyaki.

The chicken karaage is okay, a light batter and nice enough chicken within. Their yasai tempura is also pretty good, a whole variety of veggies in a decent tempura batter, crispy covering each piece and not oily. Sushi is pretty good, although the unagi isn’t quite as stickily unctuous as my favourite kind. I quite like the nasu dengaku, the aubergine flesh is cooked to gooeyness and there’s a hefty coating of sticky-sweet miso sauce with sesame on time. You might find it too sweet, I liked it.

Chicken karaage

Chicken karaage

The specials don’t work out quite so well. There is a toro (fatty tuna) sashimi with shiitake and jalapeno mayo. This fatty tuna is almost too melt-in-the-mouth, dissolving and leaving a really stringy length of fibre right through it. Love the shiitake though. The other special is eel spring rolls in a jalapeno sauce. There’s not enough eel in the spring rolls for much flavour to come through, it could be anything. And the pool of jalapeno sauce is a sticky-sweet slick of goo that just makes the dish taste like something from a kiddie menu.

I’d come back to Pham for some pre-theatre sushi again, but I’d stick to the UK-Japanese staples and give their specials a miss. The price is fair.

Nasu dengaku

Nasu dengaku

Review: Tonkotsu, Battersea Power Station

Cauliflower

Cauliflower

So we like a bowl of ramen occasionally, and among the ever-increasing food options around the new Battersea Power Station riverside (ignore the cynics, this is gonna be a really nice place when it’s all done) is Tonkotsu.

I go for their signature ramen, Maureen goes for the really hot one, and we order a side of sticky roast cauliflower. The cauli is good, sweet and umami, nicely roasted under the sticky sauce. They describe the ramen broth as “enriched with lardo and sea salt” and they are not messing around. It is the most seriously piggy ramen broth I’ve ever had. That’s a nice experience, for a while, but as it starts to coat your tongue, your lips, your whole mouth…

Well, with a big bowl of ramen I sometimes find myself thinking “I’m feeling stuffed, I’ll leave the rest of the noodles and just slurp some broth” but here it was definitely “I’m feeling stuffed, I’d better leave the broth and just eat some noodles!”

So if you want your broth to feel like pig soup, I’d say Tonkotsu is the place. For myself I prefer a lighter broth and will continue to pick Kaneda-Ya for my ramen fix.

House ramen

House ramen