Review: 27 Harbour Street, Broadstairs

27 Harbour Street

Thanet is a lovely corner of Kent. Margate, Broadstairs and Ramsgate are all coastal towns with bags of character and varying degrees of nouveau-hip shops and eateries bubbling up. Stretch the boundary a little and the lovely medieval town of Sandwich makes a great quartet, all within about 20 minutes.

27 Harbour Street lies just on the edge of Broadstair’s little old harbourside and was a welcoming place to tumble into out of a frigid winter’s night. The welcome is friendly and the dark interior with old wood furnishing just added to the cosy. Good looking wine list, seemed very reasonable on the markups.

Sea bass crudo

Sea bass crudo

We got started with some wild mushroom macaroni fritti to snack on. These were proper good. Crispy breadcrumbed cubes filled with a lush macaroni cheese mix humming with wild mushroom flavour. Snacks devoured and wine poured, we ambled through another half dozen small plates (and as an aside: notably more generous small plates than those turned out in most other small plate restaurants).

There was a lovely salad of roasted pear, with nicely charred edges, on a bed of full-flavoured whipped goat cheese and scattered with nutty toasted pumpkin seeds. Then a dish of raw sea bass with proscuitto and a lively apple and chilli puree in the middle. The sea bass and apple worked well, with fragrant ponzu dressing, but I thought the proscuitto was a heavy-handed interloper, both with its chewy texture and heavy saltiness. Next up there were good char-grilled carrots with salsa verde, and a scrumptious piece of blackened hispi cabbage bathed in a truffly emulsion. Lots of cripy onions on top for crunch and black blobs of pickled walnut ketchup for tang. This was very good eating.

Pomme Anna

Pomme Anna

The larger plate that came last (okay, or we could call it “main”!) was a good piece of rump, medium-rare, with a really splendid beef fat bearnaise sauce. Mmmm… beef fat bearnaise. Very special. Roast roscoff onion accompanied it. And it came with our final small plate: a beautiful golden-brown brick of Pomme Anna potatoes, crunchy on the outside and lush within, served with the classic Spanish combo of a bravas tomato-chilli sauce and aioli.

We could definitely have finished there, but then we’d have missed out on sticky toffee pudding with a black stout and miso butterscotch sauce. The muddle of bitter-umami flavours in that sauce elevated STP one step above it’s usual childlike post-pub-meal indulgence. Very, very good.

You’d probably look at £35 each for a three course meal at 27 Harbour Street and that’s brilliant value for the sheer loveliness of the food here. The cooking is generous, full-flavoured and with plenty of little inventive hits. You really ought to find an evening to spend here if you’re off visiting the far east corners of Kent!

Hispi cabbage

Hispi cabbage

Review: A La Russe, Windsor

Mushroom en cocotte

Mushroom en cocotte

Visit Windsor on almost any day of the year and you’ll find a town awash with tourists from across the globe, visitor numbers out of all proportion with the modest-sized town centre. So you’d expect most of the restaurants to be horrid affairs with glitzy frontages and gimmicks, serving up over-priced rubbish to people who will never be returning. And there are a lot of those. But there are a handful of gems, if you look hard enough. Maybe not exactly cutting the edge of culinary fashion, but very good. That’s a fair summary of A La Russe: an absolutely classic French-restaurant-in-Britain. It feels like you could have walked in here at any time since the 1970s. And on the evening we were here (Christmas Eve, admittedly) it felt like all the clientele were long-time locals.

Ribeye with truffle sauce

Ribeye with truffle sauce

So what did we have? Well, the baguette and butter given to the table was exactly what you’d expect: warm, crunchy, soft and incredibly easy to scoff. Maureen started with a half-dozen snails in garlic butter, jolly good though could perhaps have been garlickier. My wild mushroom cocotte was perfect for a cold winter night, bags of pungent porcini and truffle flavours bursting from the gooey Comte cheese cap of the little ceramic dish. For main course I went with ribeye steak in a sauce of porcini and marsala. The steak was a flavourful piece, nicely done and the sauce was just the right indulgent and creamy-boozy-fungi hug for a festive occasion. Maureen’s rabbit with chestnuts and lardons was another comforting piece of French cooking, in a sleek herby white wine sauce.

Somehow I found room for a tarte tatin, which was the perfect classic: solid pieces of apple, but cooked until saturated with the slightly bitter butter-caramel flavour, and the most delicate of crisp pastry beneath. Maureen thought she was going light with the grilled pineapple, but it had been simmered long in a slick of sweet caramel sauce, leaving it just sickly with no balancing juicy tang. Really the only properly bum note, though.

A La Russe is a totally sound option for French cooking in Windsor. Heading for £50 for a three course meal, but that feels like decent value for the quality and the location; the Castle is just over the road.

Tarte tatin

Tarte tatin

Review: Fatt Pundit, Covent Garden

Momos

Momos

We went to Fatt Pundit after a visit to the Hunterian Museum, which may have been a bad decision as the epic collection of things pickled in jars, strangely contorted skeletons and surgical instruments in this museum can leave you feeling a little… queasy… after a while. Not many museums can boast such an impressive collection of foetuses. Shudder. We definitely needed a couple of cocktails to soothe the nerves before tucking into lunch.

Fatt Pundit picks up an unusual bit of global cuisine – the Chinese-Indian cooking that is found in Kolkata, to where a group of Cantonese people migrated in the 18th and 19th centuries. I’m always up for a new cuisine! The dining room is the typical narrow front-to-back shape in central London, full of tables, no modern open kitchen here. It’s a nice enough ambience but never going to be memorable. Cocktails likewise; Maureen’s twist on an old fashioned promised saffron but I think they’d need to have skipped the almond liqueur which took over. My tamarind sour was very drinkable.

Veggie fry

Veggie fry

Dishes! We started with goat momos, good bites in soft dumplings with a tomatoey spicy dip. First dish up was sticky fried veg. The sticky goo coating the bite-sized pieces was easy to like, sweet and hot, and I couldn’t really identify the individual veg it coated. They had been cooked down to a chewy nugget texture and worked very well. Next up, rabbit wontons, a bowl of soft and slippery noodles with shredded bits of juicy meat hiding amongst them, all coated in a dark umami gravy. Absolutely a soothing thing. Third up, crispy salt-and-pepper okra. This was a splendid twist on classic salt-and-pepper squid. The okra had bite (and no sliminess at all) and was properly coated in the thinnest crispy batter, pepped up with plenty of condiment and chilli. A great snack I could munch on any time. Final dish, a “shredded chilly venison”. The venison was small pieces rather than shredded, I would think, in an indistinctly meaty gravy with quite a bit of sweetness and perhaps not enough balance. It came with a plump and fluffy bao-style bread, very good for scooping up the venison.

I enjoyed lunch at Fatt Pundit, all the food was good and just that bit different. That said, it didn’t entirely blow me away either. On reflection the cuisine here (based on our four choices) is actually very much Chinese in style and flavour profile, there’s not much Indian left in it. Except perhaps more chillies than you’d see in Cantonese cooking. It’s reasonable value, maybe £35-£40 each to make a full meal without drinks. I’d say it’s worth a visit if you enjoy trying new things, but I’ll admit that now I’ve tried it I’m probably not hurrying back.

Venison and bun

Venison and bun

Review: Khao-So-I, Fitzrovia

Khao-So-I

Khao-So-I

Chiang Mai was the first city we visited in Thailand, some fifteen years ago now. I still remember it for my first encounter with Thai food that was not from the menu of “20th century British Thai” (red, green or massaman curry and pad thai). A bowl of khao-soi in the street market, a beautiful amber soup with bright flavours of lemongrass and kaffir lime, earthy turmeric, creamy with coconut milk and lifted with a good hit of rusty red chilli. The noodles were so good they didn’t need any meat or veg, and on the side was a platter heaped with various local herbs I’d never seen back in the UK along with sliced shallot and crunchy bits of deep-fried noodle, all to scatter over the fiery soup to your taste. I think we had khao-soi three or four times over our five days in Chiang Mai.

So of course we were straight down to the new Thai place near Oxford Circus, Khao-So-I, named for and specialising in the dish. It’s got good pedigree, being the first overseas outpost of Chef Win whose restaurants in Thailand are very well regarded.

Cocktails and jackfruit salad

Cocktails and jackfruit salad

Inside they’ve got table seating and a long kitchen counter, where we perched on high but comfortable enough stools. This isn’t a place for a long and languid meal anyway, the dishes come out pretty prompt. The interior is smartly decorated in cool modern earth tones, stripped back simplicity and none of the loud bling you might associate with Thai dining. We start with a couple of very good cocktails; a margarita with wonderful notes of pandan and kaffir, and a Nimman 75 with floral lychee kept in check by dry champagne and good gin.

We started with a couple of small dishes. One was a delightful salad of young jackfruit, fresh with good flavours of kaffir lime and other herbs I’d have trouble identifying, pepper up with just enough dry chilli to build heat as you eat. The other was fermented fatty pork and egg, wrapped in banana leaf and roasted in there. The sticky, porky concoction inside the leaf was fragrant with Thai flavours tangled up with pork fat, very moreish.

Khao-soi up!

Khao-soi up!

Unless you want a meal of starters, you’ll be having khao-soi for main; it’s not so much a signature dish as the only dish on the menu, albeit served with almost a dozen variations in topping. I went for a mix of torched and braised beef, while Maureen chose the tofu. The tofu was nice, sturdy with a bit of crisp to the edges. If I came back, I’d skip the thin slices of scorched chuck-eye and stick with the braised shank. It was marinated and braised to a sweet and almost jammy stickiness, I could have had a plate of it happily. But of course the khao-soi soup and noodles are the main event. The soup was exactly as I remember it, just the right level of heat, made silky and rich with coconut milk, fragrant with all those northern Thai herbs and spices. The noodles are chunky and toothsome, not as thick as udon but thicker than ramen. And there’s sides of chopped herbs, pickled mustard greens, chilli flakes and coconut milk to stir in to taste, along with the little bowl of deep-fried crispy noodle bits for topping.

I loved my bowl of khao-soi at Khao-So-I and you should go along and try if you’ve never had the original stuff in Thailand, because this is it. That said, it’s their only thing and it averages around £25 a bowl, topping up to £35 per person for a meal of starter-and-main. So it’s priced a bit higher than top-notch ramen. Probably deservedly. So I’ll be popping back next time I really need a khao-soi fix.

Beef khao-soi

Beef khao-soi

Review: Bistro Union, Clapham

Bistro Union

Bistro Union

Bistro Union has been on our “oughta visit” list for five years. It’s in that weird zone: 25 minutes walk away, making it feel like a neighbourhood restaurant and thus not worthy of a special trip, yet too far to walk if we just want to pop out for a bite to eat near home. And yet I really do love a good bistro, so I was glad when an excuse finally arose.

From the outside and inside it really is the very type of an early 21st century urban British bistro: muted colours, plain black wooden furnishings, long and narrow dining room. And the menu is a proper call-out of all the bistro classics, from French onion soup through beef bourguignon to crème brulee.

Turbot

Turbot

We snacked on some decent, though hardly decadent, cheese gougères while picking our dishes. I started with chicken liver parfait enriched with foie gras. The foie gras didn’t seem to add much to what was a good chicken liver parfait, nice bit of sticky chutney on the side. Maureen’s French onion soup was thick and satisfying, deep brown and topped with quite an amount of gruyere. For main course I made a beeline for the turbot, a really good sized chunk of snowy purity, cooked just nicely solid, draped in plenty of good hollandaise with simple beans and potato gratin to help sop it all up. This was a pretty blissful bistro dish. Maureen’s beef tartare was merely fine, pepped up with black garlic ketchup, the beef a little soft and unflavourful. Not bad, just not great.

We managed to share a crème brulee flavoured with spruce to finish, a neat touch with the fragrant pine-y scent coming through the cream and burnt sugar nicely. Three courses would be around £55 here and I do think that’s on the high side for the cooking, which was classic and decent but hardly memorable. At a 25 minute walk across the Common, I’m not expecting to be back at Bistro Union any time soon.

Beef tartare

Beef tartare