Review: Ukiyo Hand Roll Bar, Covent Garden

Hamachi jalapeno

So I need to foreshadow this review. I love sushi and sashimi, except for one element of it. The thin seaweed sheet used for wrapping rice in various sushi forms. It’s often hard to bite through, and the texture is neither crispy nor yielding. It’s essentially the closest thing to chewing on paper that exists in popular world cuisine. Hence, I prefer nigiri, I’ll enjoy a roll, accept a maki, and I tend to avoid hand-rolls.

But Ukiyo is a specialist in hand-rolls, it’s what they do. And the way my brain works is, I want to like things, so maybe if I try hand-rolls at a specialist that people are currently excited about I’ll discover what I’ve been missing…?

It’s a very glossy glass box of a place, with beautiful light fittings and a single counter around the three sushi chefs. You perch on high stools and in the background they play disco. Not sure why disco. We pick a couple of cocktails from the list, and my smoky mix of mezcal and umeshu is punchy and good, Maureen’s also great. We choose two starters and two of the hand-roll sets, so that would be five hand rolls each.

Seaweed salad

Seaweed salad

The hamachi with jalapeno is a lovely starter, carpaccio-thin slices of perfect fish given just enough kick and capsicum flavour from the thin slice of pepper and the green jalapeno sauce. Very good. The seaweed salad is a vivid little pile of glossy green, sweetened with dressing and a sesame sauce, very oceanic at first bite but kinda moreish and addictive after that.

Then we have our hand-rolls. I don’t know if it’s an accepted part of this format in Japan, but we are handed our rolls at a pace chosen by the chef rather than us. What I mean is, he often handed us the next roll in the set while we’re still finishing the previous. We’re right there, he can literally see us still with half a roll in hand, so I’m guessing that this is how it’s meant to work…? The rhythmic pace without any pause to chat somehow enhancing the degustatory experience…? Anyway, it amused us more than it vexed us.

Hand roll

Hand roll

The hand rolls were nice. My favourite was akami, simply filled with meaty lean bits of tuna all shredded up. There were two or three “spicy X” rolls (e.g. “spicy yellowtail”) which translates as a bit of pleasingly warm chilli mayo added to the diced or shredded fish. The UKIYO Special was the same, salmon and chilli mayo, with shiso leaf added. Some were decorated with tiny green roe. The unagi was good, as I love sticky eel, although you get a more satisfyingly big piece on a nigiri than you do tucked into a hand roll.

My conclusion? I have the impression that Ukiyo is a place of excellence, and certainly the fish was all beautifully treated by skilled chefs (nice to be able to watch them work). But these hand rolls work out at £8 each for three bites and, alas, I still much prefer nigiri sushi. Chew, chew, chew, the seaweed paper is just such a big part of the hand roll. Especially the last mouthful. You’ll spend £55 each before drinks for what is effectively a very light meal. I know sushi is a luxury, but I just don’t find hand rolls luxurious. This is style over substance, for me.

Ukiyo

Ukiyo

Review: Liu Xiaomian, The Jackalope, Marylebone

The kitchen

Needing lunch, we settled on noodles at Liu Xiaomian, which has been cooking in the basement of the Jackalope pub in a quiet Marylebone mews for a few years now. This really isn’t one of the modern, polished, faux-street-food restaurants that have been springing up all over the trendy corners of London recently (most of which I love, to be fair), this is a big kitchen hatch in front of a tiny kitchen in a pub basement with a handful of tables and a simple “order at the counter, collect your bowl when it’s ready” approach. Little notices printed on an office printer explain the heat levels and lay out the terrifically simple menu. Drinks options are a few cans or bottles from China, or the bar upstairs.

We go for one of each: a bowl of the wheat noodles (beef), a bowl of the glass noodles (mince pork), and a bowl of the wonton soup (pork). The spice levels are bombastic. Not the chilli, though. There’s a good glow of chilli in there but a lot less than a hot Thai or Sri Lankan dish. It’s the sichuan peppers and, presumably, some other regional earthy Chinese spices that I don’t know. But the peppers, citrusy and earthy and astringent, they really are numbing – just as it says on the menu.

Wonton soup

Wonton soup

It’s all utterly delicious. The wheat noodles are perfect, nice springy bite to them, although the thick slippery-silky-gelatinous-translucent glass noodles that squirm in your mouth really have to be tried to be believed! Those wontons are surely among the best I’ve ever had too, soft and satiny.

Full disclosure: my digestive system wasn’t too pleased at having to deal with this much spice, and let its feelings be known for an uncomfortable few hours afterwards! I am a delicate flower. Anyway, at £12-14 for a bowl of superb noodles, you should come and enjoy the sheer spiky authenticity yourself.

Glass nooooodles

Glass nooooodles

Review: Bala Baya, Southwark

Bala Baya

So. Bala Baya describes itself as a Middle Eastern restaurant, as do a few review sites that perhaps keep their info updated. But older reviews and articles, that no-one ever updates, call it an Israeli restaurant. It doesn’t take much nouse to realise why they have re-badged themselves “Middle Eastern” as thoroughly as they can! However, it did make us pause and consider whether we should be patronising an Israeli restaurant. Obviously we decided “yes”. Even with a whole heap of research and background-checking it might still be impossible to know how the folks who own & run the place feel about the current Israel-Gaza conflict. They don’t represent the Israeli state, they certainly don’t support it openly (or their restaurant would still be proudly badged “Israeli”) and they really only tangentially support it fiscally in any way, perhaps with some taxes somewhere. It felt like poor form to boycott a place if you don’t even know where they stand. Enough politics… on with the food!

Aubergine and pitta

Aubergine and pitta

They are tucked away under railway arches in Southwark, but have created a light and airy space, modern and sleek but comfortable and relaxed. The staff looked after us very well too. Cocktails gave a good early sign, clear and punchy flavours. We went with two meat dishes and two veg.

The “aubergine mess” that came first was a solid take on babaganoush, dollops of creamy tahini added, and little chunks of lychee in the mix too. This was a charming variation on the usual pomegranate seeds, the sweet rose taste of the lychee obviously fitting very nicely in the Middle Eastern vibe. Two hot pittas were among the best I’ve ever had, nicely browned with a nutty flavour. Next up was a courgette flower stuffed with cheesy polenta and drizzled with harissa’d honey; a nice take on the dish with a bit of pep from the harissa and gutsier flavour from the polenta, but I’ll be honest I prefer it as a light, summery affair of fluffy ricotta.

Courgette flower

Courgette flower

Brisket on “Moroccan doughnut” (to my mind, a small butter-soaked bagel nicely toasted?) was the dish of the day. The meat was perfect juicy fibres, and the glaze and sticky sauce added a mass of pleasantly rich and spicy flavour, along with a vivid yellow tahini cream on top. Kebab dumplings contained very full-flavoured bits of lush lamb marinaded in spices, but the dumpling itself was just okay; neither soft-n-silky nor crispy, it was simply a container for the lamb. The sweet date jus and pine nuts worked well with the meat.

So this was £40 each before drinks. Although done as sharing plates, effectively a starter and a small main each. It was all very nice but – and judging value is so tricky these days, trying to track against the rampant (necessary) inflation of menu prices everywhere – I’m gonna have to say that this was a tad over-priced for what it was. And £12 for the cheapest red wine by the glass doesn’t help. I’m not wanting to hurry back because the food was genius, and I’m not wanting to make it a “useful local” because it’s not great value. But it was a good meal.

Brisket on doughnut

Brisket on doughnut

Review: Som Saa, Spitalfields

Fermented sausage

Fermented sausage

One of the first new-breed Thai restaurants in London, I was put off visiting Som Saa for a long while due to a sad episode of racism tangled up with the restaurant six years ago (here’s a relevant Twitter thread). But we were at Spitalfields and needed lunch, and I’m optimistic enough to hope that – even if people struggled at the time with basic stuff like apologies – lessons may have quietly been learned.

In any event, the place is still here and their signature deep-fried sea bass is still on the menu. We ordered that, along with a mushroom laab, a pork neck curry and some cashews and fermented pork sausage to start. The cashews are tasty bar snacks, roasted to deep brown with a sweet-spicy-lime-y dusting. The fermented sausage has a great flavour, nicely sour and umami.

Pork neck curry

Pork neck curry

The sea bass is a wonderful beast, curled upon the plate and staring up at us like an angry horror film monster. One side is soft, delicate white flesh and the other is fried to a golden crisp. Both sides are delicious with the big pile of mint-heavy herbs, shallots, lime and chilies piled alongside. It’s a proper signature dish. The mushroom laab was also splendid, powerful earthy-fiery flavours shot through a good heap of chews oyster and other mushrooms. No complaints about the pork neck curry either, which had a brave amount of heat (especially if you stumbled on some of the big bits of chilli) and a mouth-watering sour note.

Som Saa is a good new-breed Thai option. I guess for me it falls somewhere between the earnestness of Kiln and the punchy joy of Plaza Khao Gaeng. You’ll probably pay around £30 each before drinks, which is good value for the quality. We picked a couple of the house cocktails: both good, with clear Thai flavours and highly drinkable.

Sea bass

Sea bass

Native at Netherwood Estate, Worcestershire

Native at Netherwood

Native at Netherwood

We first dined at Native five years ago when they had a place near Borough Market and I really enjoyed their inventive use of native ingredients: they served us aged ex-dairy cow before it was trendy, and Kentish wood ants on our pea pod ice cream. White chocolate and bone marrow caramel served in the bone. It all worked really well and made me smile.

So now they’ve moved into the absolute wilderness of the Worcestershire countryside, taking over the dining room that used to be Pensons, and since we were visiting the area we decided to stop in for the short version of their first tasting menu. The dining room is a stunner, high ceiling and impressive woven light fittings like giant weaverbird nests, huge windows out onto the country garden.

Trout

Trout

The menu kinda underwhelmed me, though, probably because of what I had been expecting. After an excellent snack-bite of sticky duck leg wrapped in a shiso leaf and some very good sourdough with a nut-brown crust we went on to… chalk-stream trout. Gently cooked and with a crisp skin, served with a beurre blanc of woodruff. I’m not sure the earthy-hay flavour of woodruff really goes with trout, but it was mostly overwhelmed by the salty bites of trout roe on top.

The main was… Creedy Carver duck. Aged to intensify the flavour, served with a smoked beetroot puree and sliced roast beetroot. The beetroot was a golden variety called Flaming Barrel, beautifully sweet, and the smoked puree was a splendid relish for the duck. Excellent gravy. Overall a very nice main.

Blackcurrant

Blackcurrant

Dessert was blackcurrants with buttermilk icecream and a good blackcurrant leaf foam. Nice flavour but one of those textureless dessert you scarcely notice. It was served with a tempura blackcurrant leaf, but this had a bitter flavour and the tempura was heavy and oily and overwhelmed the delicate leaf. The bitterness didn’t come from the leaf – I ate one of the leaves that dressed the plate, just to check! It was much better without the batter.

Apart from the tempura leaf, good cooking throughout. But I try to blog my personal reaction to a meal, and after ex-dairy cow and wood ants this was just… unmemorable. Chalk-stream trout and Creedy Carver duck? Sounds like the menu at a thousand 2-rosette country house hotels. I suspect we were just unlucky – there’s every chance their first menu was just playing safe while they settle in and explore their new surroundings (they’d only been open 2 months!). The short menu was £65 before drinks. But there we go: I’ll only likely return if I start seeing rave reviews from all the nationals and the best bloggers!

Duck

Duck