Review: Row on 5, Mayfair

Row on 5

Row on 5

I’m developing some clear preferences in my old age, I think. Nowadays I’ve got a strong preference for more informal mid-range dining, preferably ambitious and often ethnic. Small plates almost always feature. But as Row on 5 has just reminded me, I also love a real splurge on a destination restaurant where you feel super looked-after, the food is just one notch beyond expectations, the surroundings are plush and the whole experience is essentially indulgent.

There’s another class of dining in between these two: fine dining, usually tasting menu, sometimes ambitious and/or ethnic, friendly service. It’s this end of things I seem to have lost interest in. It’s often pricy without being truly indulgent, and yet the needs of fine dining means it can’t be as BOOM with flavours. At the end of the day, I usually forget those meals within a couple of weeks of eating them. Snack, snack, snack, seafood, fish, meat, cheese, pre-dessert, dessert, petit fours n coffee, rinse and repeat.

Venison dim sum

Venison dim sum

Of course that was the essence of the menu at Row on 5 too. A lot of particularly good dishes, which I’ll come back to. But the memorable meals are so often the wider experience. They have a beautiful lounge space downstairs and a beautiful dining room above, with striking lighting and a great open kitchen. It feels properly glamorous. The service is pitched just perfect too: very friendly, but highly polished. You are made to feel special. They have a gigantic wine tome. HUGE. ENORMOUS. And while I usually grumble at wine lists where so few wines are sub-£100 that you’d feel like a pauper ordering one of them, on this occasion the passion implied by the gigantic tome makes it alright. Their wine collection is on display all over the restaurant too; when we returned downstairs for petit fours and coffees, they sat us in the private wine room where we could mooch the collection and their wine library. See? I’ll remember this meal for a lot longer. As long as the food was okay…

Wine tome

Wine tome

It was. Superb, in fact. I’ve had a few venison main courses this winter, but the piece of sika deer loin here was in another class. I’ve no idea whether it was the sourcing, storage or cooking but it was a magical piece of meat. Even if the blackcurrant and beetroot elements were hardly innovative (just very excellent). The five-spicy dim sum of shredded venison was a delicious but also stunningly presented addition, like a tiny fuzzy comet.

Having started in the middle I need to rewind, as some of the snacks were splendid. The dice of tuna loin on a crisp little squid ink case, topped with a tiny slice of fatty otoro tuna, singing with a fragrant hit of yuzu, was one of the standouts. Delicate pieces of raw langoustine with tiny crisp flowers of finger lime on top and a sabayonne of salted egg was another. The base was a clear tomato gel with a wonderfully deep and smoky flavour over which the finger lime hummed beautifully. Also very much loved the scallop, unashamedly meaty and dense, well caramelised with a frankly yummy XO glaze. Best scallop I’ve had in a while.

Langoustine

Langoustine

The bread course was more indulgence, more like a crisply glazed pastry served with chicken skin butter. Naughty. The main fish course was turbot, of course. The sauce was bold, made with monkfish liver, dotted with fermented chunks of razor clam and peeled grapes, finished with plenty of lovage oil. The whole dish was lovely. After the venison came a lovely little Stilton tartlet, a refreshing zip of kaffir lime snow on a Sauternes jelly, and then a very accomplished chocolate pudding full of bitter-sweet flavours and Jerusalem artichoke ice cream. Yes, yes, we’d enjoyed the Giant Wine Tome too much at this point for me to keep careful notes…

The bill was, of course, as massive as the wine tome. The menu is £250 per head before drinks. It’s a price I’m willing to pay (occasionally!) for a special occasion, to feel indulgent and indulged for a whole evening; we were there from 18:30 to 23:00 …so if you calculate your restaurant bill per hour, this is ironically much closer in value to some modern tasting menu places where you’re in-and-out in 1.5 hours and the bill is around £300 for two! I’ll leave you to decide where you place value, but Row on 5 definitely scores highly in flavour, quality, indulgence and service on anyone’s scale.

Tuna snack

Tuna snack

Review: Asador 44, Cardiff

Beef tartare

Beef tartare

The food scene in Wales has improved beyond measure over the last decade, with the charge led (I would argue) by Ynyshir on the fine dining front. It sometimes feels like half the best places to eat in Wales are headed by alumni. That aside, Cardiff itself has also burgeoned with good eats; The Plate Licked Clean is a great blog that I’ve followed for ages, and the couple of places I’ve been on prior visits to the city leave me pretty sure that we see eye-to-eye on food!

This visit we went to Asador 44, a Spain-inspired grill place that is now most definitely a Cardiff institution. So I was only somewhat hopeful that it would still be as good as when TPLC first reviewed it years ago. The dining room is big, friendly, casual and cosy. This was the final Sunday lunch of the year and service was slow, both up front and from the kitchen. I’m imagining an unexpected seasonal staff shortage. It was all fine.

Whole sea bass

Whole sea bass

The food was great though. My starter of ex-dairy beef tartare with grated cured egg yolk on top and a big crunchy charcoal cracker flecked with fennel seeds to scoop it up with was jolly good. Full flavoured beef, as you’d expect, but nothing gristly in there. Maureen’s grilled king oyster mushroom was good, with a sticky diced aubergine relish on the side. For main course I shared a whole sea bass with friend Tim. This was a cheerful monster of a fish, beautifully cooked off of the grill. Both the richly smoky romesco sauce and the brightly minty salsa verde were excellent. We went with a side of tenderstem broccoli, which came with an ajo blanco sauce that lacked a real garlicky punch and some bits of almond cracknel that were too big and so oddly separate from the broccoli. The other side was a silly bit of a Sunday-lunch-nod; Yorkshire pudding with chorizo. I thought it would be somehow cleverly done, but was a big and rather dry Yorkie with a few bits of fried chorizo dropped into it. Maureen’s confit duck leg sat upon a lovely baked rice with sticky burnt edges, shot through with morcilla and more salsa verde. The duck leg was fine, maybe a bit dry.

So we had a mixed bag at Asador 44, with some lovely fish and baked rice, a nice tartare, but some just-okay sides and duck leg. It’s probably be around £45 each for a decent meal without drinks and I think that’s probably nudging the high side for what we ate. That said, I’d say it’s a solid recommendation if you’re visiting Cardiff and want somewhere to eat in the very centre of the city.

Baked rice and duck

Baked rice and duck

Review: Heaneys, Cardiff

Scallop roe hash browns

Scallop roe hash browns

Heaneys is a handsome, friendly, comfortable and capable fine dining restaurant in the nice Pontcanna suburb of Cardiff. Thirty minutes walk, or a ten minute taxi ride on a rainy December night, from the Castle. We went with the long tasting menu, because ’tis the season to over-indulge after all! And a beef fat old fashioned made for a very good pre-prandial sip while we waited for the first snacks.

The best snack was a cube of hash brown enriched with scallop roe, a dollop of taramasalata on top and a little caviar on top of that. Absolutely wonderful, definitely one of those “please just line up eight more of these for me and I’m all good” snacks. The little cheese tartlet was nice too. They turned out a really splendid sourdough, full-flavoured with a good crumb and very twangy, and a black and scrunchy crust.

Splendid sourdough

Splendid sourdough

Chalk stream trout came in a light truffle and ponzu broth. This broth was a stunner, light and very full-flavoured but without going into umami overload. I’d have preferred it with a white fish or shellfish. Next up, a beautifully cooked piece of monkfish draped with lardo and set on cubed turnip. I felt the cream sauce rather took over the dish, certainly couldn’t detect the Iberico pork used in it. I freely admit to not loving (most) cream sauces with fish! Hen of the woods in a miso broth topped with lots of crispy onion was great. Then a lovely bit of sea bass, the skin a beautiful crispy shard on top, with a brown butter jus and a chunk of braised salsify. And a blob of creamy foam.

The venison main wasn’t cutting any new ground, but was a great example of its type. Lovely pink piece of loin, some jolly seasonal accompaniments of beetroot, red currant, blackberry and red cabbage, and then a side serving of spiced and gamey venison sausage. Loved that sausage.

Coconut and passionfruit

Coconut and passionfruit

For pre-pud we had an ice lolly of coconut, passionfruit and white chocolate. I guess I’ve had enough ice lolly desserts now that I see them as gimmick; this combo could have been presented much more appealingly on a plate. The main dessert was a warm chocolate pudding around a centre of banana miso caramel, jerusalem artichoke ice cream and crispy chips on top. That banana miso caramel was inspired and indescribably yummy and I’ve always got time for that funky-earthy hit of jerusalem artichoke.

All in all a really enjoyable tasting menu for £85 a head. You could comfortably add £40-50 to that if you wanted a meal of the same quality in London. I don’t know if that makes Heaneys a bargain or Cardiff a bargain! Maybe it’s a bit of both? Anyway, although I can’t really shout Heaneys out as particularly ground-breaking or earth-shattering, I can totally recommend it for a splendid dinner on a visit to Cardiff.

Venison

Venison

Review: Crispin, Clapham

Stracciatella

We moved to Clapham five years ago, and the only small independent restaurant that critics and bloggers were ever bothered with – the Dairy – immediately closed. Roll on five years, and we’ve now got Crispin at Studio Voltaire, the third or fourth outpost of this lil’ bunch of small plate places. Let’s hope they stick around! Not to do Clapham Old Town down: we’ve got a couple of great dining pubs and Michelin-starred Trinity, along with some solid mid-range options.

Crispin have transformed the blank atrium of the Voltaire art gallery/studio into a cosy dining space, although it still has a strangely pop-up vibe to it. Maybe inevitable in this spot. Still, sat at the bar we’re comfy and well looked after. The menu is nibbles, small plates and larger plates.

We nibble two Montgomery cheddar croquettes with a dab of brown sauce, they’re good and gooey. Two small plates are deep-fried pheasant and stracciatelli. The pheasant is a leg, bashed flat and breadcrumbed, with the talons still attached to show that it was definitely a real pheasant. It’s a dirty treat with the glob of n’duja mayo alongside, though there’s not much punch to the n’duja. The stracciatella is probably dish of the day, lovely gooey cheese, brightly creamy, served with wide ribbons of raw squash lightly pickled and gnarly dribbles of fermented chilli sauce. It was gagging for a bit of bread or cracker.

Pheasant

Pheasant

The large plate we shared was a chicken parmigiani, ringed with a squiggle of soft ricotta and lavished with a pouring of hot honey on top of the tomato sauce. The mixture was a filthy success, which I suppose is why hot honey has been trending this last couple of years. Your basic dietician can tell you that everything tastes better if sweetened. Try this at home: slice a tomato and then sprinkle sugar instead of salt on it. Thank me (or rather, Maureen) later. Anyway, this dish balanced it quite well, with the ricotta to cut the honey sweetness. It did become a bit rich eventually and the chicken breast beneath was sturdy and dense. I guess it always is, but I live in hope! Oh: we also ordered chips, and these were truly excellent with loads of good mayo.

The wine list looks good and we picked out a couple of decent glasses, though my orange was more interesting than Maureen’s red. You’ll pay £40 each for food before drinks for a full meal, which I would say is a little toppy for this level of cooking. But I’m glad to have somewhere close to home whose ambitions fly higher than avo on toast!

Chicken parmigiani

Chicken parmigiani

Review: Cinnamon Bazaar, Covent Garden

Can I write a fair review here? We met up at Cinnamon Bazaar with friends, six of us for a sociable dinner a few weeks before Christmas (though close enough for all the decorations to be up in the streets and the festive menus to be popping up in the restaurants). So perhaps my mind was more on conversation than food. And yet. And yet that’s kinda telling in its own way. I love food. If there had been anything much to love here, I’d have noticed it. And we’d have talked about it, given everyone at the table rather likes good food as much as me. So the lack of “oh wow, have you tried this?” was telling.

The dining room is a bustling place, packed with serried ranks of tables to make maximum use of the space. After all, this is a popular dining area of London and “modern Indian” is a very popular style. Just ask the queues outside Dishoom. Service was fine throughout the meal, effective rather than particularly friendly.

Shepherd's pie

Shepherd’s pie


And we chomped our way through a bunch of inoffensive modern Indian dishes. My pineapple salad, more snack than starter, didn’t have enough spicy oomph to tackle the sweet juice of the pineapple. Maureen’s fish fry was tasty enough. Tim’s stuffed pan-bread was street-foodie enough that it actually felt a bit out of place in a restaurant setting. For main I went with the shepherd’s pie, which for some reason is on Time Out’s Top 100 Dishes in London list. I’ve no idea how that list was compiled, but this was just a nice shepherd’s pie. There were pieces of soft and flavoursome lamb amongst the gently spiced mince and the saffron-coloured mash had some good saffrony flavour, but the right adjective for the whole was just “nice”. The Xacuti chicken curry was better, a rich curry gravy with south Indian spices, but not something I’d be amazed to find at a good curry house in any small town in England.

One of the surprises of this meal was that we all had room for dessert! I can’t remember the last time I had an Indian meal, even Michelin-aspirant fine dining Indian, and not felt stuffed by the time dessert rolled up. But this time I had no trouble scoffing a very pleasant rice pudding with pineapple sorbet.

At around £35 each before drinks, it has to be said that Cinnamon Bazaar is decent value for its central location in town. But I’d be willing to pay a few quid extra to have my socks blown off with some really inventive Indian street-food inspired cooking, rather than munch my way through this perfectly pleasing but average fare.