Review: Oliviera, Richmond

Oliviera

Oliviera

They didn’t help their cause at Oliviera by having some fairly useless front of house on our visit. Not only did we have to resort to wild arm-waving after 20 minutes of waiting to order (despite the place being half-empty) but she also had no idea how to deal with an actual complaint. Maureen’s main course came out fairly tepid, which we told her when she stopped by to ask breezily “is everything okay?” We used the classic British: “Well, actually Maureen’s main course isn’t really hot, scarcely warm really.” She responded with a bemused “oh… I’ll let chef know” and wandered off. We didn’t see her again until it was time to clear the plates and ask whether we wanted desserts!

Anyway, we’re here for the food! Poor service can just be random bad luck. In fact, generally if I mention it at all I’m really pointing out that my mood wasn’t as receptive as it might have been, and with the best will in the world my overall impression of the meal might be a bit dented!

Agnolotti

Agnolotti

Oliviera is vegetarian, except for some rennet on their parmesan, but they wear the label lightly and set out just to serve delicious food. I start with ricotta and truffle agnolotti. This is good pasta, generous in size and nicely al dente. It’s a good ricotta and the truffle oil good quality. Maureen has a starter of mushroom risotto, again nicely cooked though rather gentle on flavour. Over the table my brother tried their “faux gras” – a vegetarian take on foie gras that he pronounced good, and a complete mystery as to what’s in it!

If you guessed at the outset that jackfruit would feature in our meal, you guessed right. Maureen’s jackfruit came in a spicy mango sauce with three kinds of rice. As noted, it was tepid, and perhaps that’s why the sweetness of the sauce seemed just a bit cloying after a while. I’m also really unclear why they called it “spicy”. I make spicier porridge.

Jackfruit n mango

Jackfruit n mango

My main was trumpet royale steak. Hm. See, here they hit one of my pet peeves. That vegetarian insistence on hopeful skeumorphisms. Slices of mushroom are not steaks. Even if you grill them. Steaks are steaks. In the event I had four slender slices of a sturdy mushroom that wouldn’t have been much more than 100g, so not even remotely the right shape or size for a steak. The bulk of my meal was actually cassava chips, and to be fair these were jolly good chips. They went very well with the 17-root(?) peppercorn sauce that engulfed the dinky mushroom slices. Good sauce too.

We didn’t stop for puds. But look, three courses will set you back £26-ish without drinks, and that’s pretty fair value for the quality of cooking. Not every dish was knock-out but there’s good flavour and good cooking here and I’d actually be quite happy if this was my neighbourhood restaurant.

Mushroom "steak"

Mushroom “steak”

Review: Tsunami, Clapham

Sturdy tempura

Sturdy tempura

Quick one this. Tsunami is a Japanese restaurant in Clapham. It’s fairly good value, but not if you really love great Japanese food. It’s also a big barn of a place and with the background music roaring and everyone raising their volume to compensate, it ain’t very bloody zen at all.

Gyoza were okay, nice veggies inside, thin case and pan-fried on one side.

Tempura was okay, though the batter was a bit on the thick side and not as dry as you’d like.

Sushi was okay too. I always order mackerel in the wan hope of finding it prepared as lovingly as they do in Japan, or at Shore in Cornwall. I’m usually disappointed. Even more than usual at Tsunami, where the mackerel is so cured that it has a fully cooked texture and tasted of vinegar. Yuck. The unagi sushi was okay. So was the dragon roll.

Well, so, most things were okay. And it was about £20 each for food which makes it hard to complain. If you want to quickly chow down some fairly decent Japanese scoff without burning the credit card, Tsunami will do. Just don’t come out here for any special reason.

Sushi mix

Sushi mix

Review: Pique Nique, Bermondsey

Seabass wellington

Seabass wellington

Some restaurants try too hard. I always remember going to L’Artisan in Cheltenham, a place trying outRAGEously hard to be French, and seeing that one of the waitresses had a little label that identified her as “French trainee”. I genuinely couldn’t tell whether she was a trainee who happened to be French, or a trainee who was learning how to “be French”. The latter was very believable.

And yet for sheer outRAGEous Frenchness, Pique Nique knocks L’Artisan into a cocked hat. Because, frankly, it is the real thing. Just happens to be in London rather than Rouen or Rheims. The location is bizarre. Yes, you do need to walk past the tennis courts. What looks like an old Edwardian park pavilion over there is actually an old Edwardian park pavilion that has been transformed into a restaurant.

Crispy egg

Crispy egg

The menu is short and classic bistro but without resorting to cliche. Six starters, three mains, and a couple of specials for sharing. We went straight for these. Sea bass wellington? Chateaubriand? Get in there! Obviously we had starters first, after all we had some wine to soak up. My crispy egg was good, particularly the salad of broad bean, apricot and girolle that it sat upon. Lovely fragrant flavours set off by a piquant vinegary dressing.

Piquant? Oh no.

I’VE GONE FULL FRENCH.

The chateaubriand was a stunning bit of meat. Insanely soft and yielding, and presumably aged at great length ‘cos it had an unmistakable pong of blue cheese about it. I loved this. Not everyone would. But hey, gallic shrug, what can you do? The jus poured over was just a brilliant dark and silken boozy-meaty glory.

Chateaubriand

Chateaubriand

The seabass wellington had mixed reviews. It looked amazing. And the puff pastry I could have nibbled all night. But the amount of mushroom and spinach duxelles kinda dwarfed the fish and – although tasty – was deemed “just a bit much”. Zut.

We overcame any disappointment with a batch of simple and delicious bistro desserts and finished up the wine.

So I can heartily recommend Pique Nique if you and a bunch of friends want to enjoy some outrageously French cooking in Bermondsey. I can’t call it brilliant value; around £36 for 3 courses of (very good) bistro cooking, pushing up higher if you pick the sharing dishes. But it is atmospheric and it is fairly unique.

Pique Nique

Pique Nique

Review: Barrafina, Charing Cross

Bustling Barrafina

Bustling Barrafina

One more blog in my ongoing series: “so are they still any good?” This time we’re at Barrafina, which we got into easily by the simple expedient of getting there before 6pm. Mind you, we only just made it; fifteen minutes later there was a queue.

So, the queue is still there, but are they still any good?

Hell yeah. As with Jose (which I love, but the internets ate my review – no, really!) the dishes tend to simplicity but the produce and attention to detail tend to absolute perfection. It’s just a brilliant demonstration of what’s great about Spanish food, in London.

Tortilla

Tortilla

The menu is unabashedly Spanish, so definitely engage the staff or your Google search. We chose ortiguillas, which are little bundles of tentacles from snakeshead anemones, breadcrumbed and deep fried. Each mouthful was a powerful iodine punch of the seashore, to be dipped in a friendly aioli.

Of course we had to try their tortilla. Here it is of the golden-and-oozing-interior variety, a sublime texture and about as indulgent as potatoes and eggs get.

Stuffed courgette flower was merely excellent. Escalivada was a simple dish of slow roasted red peppers and aubergine, dusted with paprika and served with aioli. Beautifully textures, soft but not mush. Star of the show was rather ridiculously four milk-fed lamb kidneys. And that’s it. They had been char-grilled to perfection and served on a little trivet above a smoking charcoal. The smoky barbecue scent, carbonised edges and sturdy iron-y pink meat was just gorgeous. Yeah. I’ve run my brain over my adjective list and that’s exactly right. Gorgeous.

Creme Catalan!?

Creme Catalan!?

Gorgeous puds too, although my one (slight) disappointment: I ordered creme catalan and for some inexplicable reason they’ve wrapped blobs of it in filo pastry and deep-fried them. The result was tasty, but not the tasty I had wanted.

Regardless, we waddled out very happy. You’re probably on £30 each for food, and the drinks list is excellent and fair priced. It’s not a place to linger at a relaxed pace; bar seating and the atmosphere is functional rather than warm. Nevertheless, we will most certainly be back.

Escalivada

Escalivada

Review: Trinity Upstairs, Clapham

Trinity Upstairs

Trinity Upstairs

Next in my review series “So… is it still any good?” is Trinity Upstairs, the relaxed small plate partner to the grown-up and Michelin starred Trinity downstairs. I was startled to find it empty on a sunny Saturday lunchtime, and only one other table joined us later. This is a travesty really, as we enjoyed one of the best value top-quality lunches I’ve had in a long time.

Trinity Upstairs is still definitely very good.

Brill and saffron aioli

Brill and saffron aioli

Snacks to start included crispy fried pork jowl with barbecue sauce dobbed on top, basically two bites of yum, and fried strips of brill with a vivid saffrony aioli to dip them in. The breadcrumb coating the brill was so fine and dry of oil that it looked more like tawny velvet.

We picked four small plates to make up a meal. In order of magnificence they were: a pleasant monkfish biryani which could have been braver in spicing the rice, roasted cauliflower with a raisin and caper dressing, home-cured salmon with melon, cucumber and mint, and char-grilled stem broccoli with a bagna cauda and roasted hazelnuts.

Salt caramel tart

Salt caramel tart

We just about had room for puds as well. Maureen’s was half of a beautifully roasted peach in a pool of velvety chilled custard flavoured with verbena. Mine was a perfect slice of salt caramel tart served with a scoop of very-salt caramel ice cream. The tart was an absolute beaut, sturdy enough to stand up but melting like vulgar silken cream in the mouth. Perfect nutty crisp pastry base. Great finale.

I was reassured a bit to hear from our waiter that the chefs who cooked our lunch were mainly up here busy doing mise en place for the evening’s sitting downstairs, and so the Upstairs space really doesn’t need to be full as it’s basically covering the cost of one waiter. Even so, come on people! £24 for a lunch I’d have paid £35 for and thought good value. You’ve gotta be kidding.

Pork jowl croquettes

Pork jowl croquettes