Location, location, location are, as every estate agent and Channel 4 property show addict knows, the three critical factors in determining the desirability of a property. The same cannot be said for restaurants, which can thrive in the oddest places - both under and atop multi-storey car-parks, for example - yet fail in seemingly sure-fire sites.
Ora is a fantastic smart Thai restaurant cursed with an abysmal location (location, location). Little Portland Street is an alleyway in the unlovely area north of Oxford Street that property developers would like us to call Noho. The previous occupant of this site was Annex 3, the short-lived West End off-shoot of Shoreditch favourite Les Trois Garcons.
Ora's owners are clearly unperturbed that the eponymous three boys, with their pedigree, couldn't make a go of it here. Money has been spent to good effect on giving the long, large dining room and adjoining cocktail lounge a sleek, dark, Christian Liaigre-ish makeover, and an elegant interlocking design rather like a curvy Union Jack runs across staff t-shirts, embroidered leather place-mats and menus. There's confidence as well as incense in the air.
The menu offers a mix of the familiar curries, stir-fries and noodle dishes with a selection of Thai specialities, some of them seasonal. Dinner date Frankie and I started with a Spice Market platter of mixed starters, each paired to a home-made dipping sauce. Fish-cakes, chicken satay and prawn tempura were comme il faut, but crisp light calamari with its black pepper dip and a fiery, fragrant som tam papaya salad stood out.
Super soups followed; Frankie's bracing hot and sour tom yung goong used beautifully fresh prawns while my tom kha gai was about as good as this coconut milk, galangal and chicken soup gets, a sprinkling of crispy shallots adding a smoky bass note.
For our main courses Frankie took the safe route of a green chicken curry which was a fine specimen, the flavour deepened and heat tempered by the inclusion of aubergine. My panang neur, slices of beef in a sweetish, rich sauce was beautifully spiced so as to deliver a rolling ever-present heat in the mouth without pain or perspiration. A lovely slippery knot of mushrooms brought welcome earthiness.
The two real wow-factor dishes of the meal were our desserts. Tub-tim-grob, an iced 'soup' made with coconut milk, shaved ice, water chestnuts, tapioca and jackfruit was successfully both sweet and refreshing, perfect after a rich, spicy meal. Even more unusual was durian ice-cream; unsurprisingly neither of us could guess the flavour but it was pungent, smoky, creamy and completely delicious.
As well as impeccable if at times overly-deferential service, a real highlight of what turned into a long, leisurely evening was exploring the Thai specialities on the drinks list. Starting with cocktails based on Thai spirit Mekhong - somewhere between a whisky and a rum - we moved on to Chang beer, after which we enjoyed Thai wines - who knew? - matched to each course. A light buttery Colombard Malaga, deep Pok Dum Shiraz and a sweet late harvest Chenin Blanc, reminiscent of a Muscat, led us as they would anyone to wonder why the wines of Thailand aren't better known. Fascinating stuff.
Pricing might be a little on the high side relative to portion size - an adjustment to one or other of ten percent down or up would balance things out nicely - but that's really all there is to fault about Ora. The challenge it faces is not in persuading anyone of the quality of the food, drink or service, all of which are above reproach, but simply of getting the word out to enough people who appreciate such things that they are there and that it is worth seeking out their less-than-favourable location, location, location. They are, and it is - now go.
Ora, 6 Little Portland Street, London W1W 7JE Tel: 020 7637 0125 http://www.ora-restaurant.co.uk
I was invited to review Ora.
Posted by +Hugh Wright
One of the downsides - if you can call it that - to eating out as often as I do is that things that to the occasional diner would be unique and exciting can become ubiquitous and uninspiring. Beetroot and goats' curd, anything in Kilner jars or miniature Staub casseroles, venison tartare; been there, done that, dropped it down every t-shirt.
I've been spoiled, too, when it comes to the food of the Far East, enjoying everything from amazing Vietnamese to terrific Thai and jaw-dropping Japanese without even having to leave London. Better still, I've experienced restaurants that offer a variety of Eastern cuisines under one roof allowing for exploration and experimentation in the course of one meal.
So, if I didn't find East Street, a recently-opened restaurant on Rathbone Place offering the chance to 'travel across East Asia by plate', particularly exciting, it's through absolutely no fault on their part; I'm just rather better 'travelled' perhaps than their usual target customer.
The name East Street confusingly has nothing to do with the restaurant's location, instead being a reference to the menu's emphasis on the street-food of the (Far) East, or perhaps more abstractly to this being a metaphorical culinary 'street' along which one can meander trying a little bit of Malaysian here, some Singaporean there.
The room's a stunner, and drives the theme home without tipping over into tackiness; authentic (or at least apparently authentic) street signs, posters, handbills and ephemera from the countries whose cuisines are represented hang from the ceiling and cover the walls, while furniture is a bright mismatch of folding tables, picnic chairs and benches just as one might find in, say, a Vietnamese market.
A dozen or so street snacks and small plates are offered instead of starters, and so as to experience as many as possible my dinner date Anders and I ordered a Tampopo Platter consisting of small helpings of six of them. Served attractively on a large slate we enjoyed them all - Thai coconut prawns and corn fritters, Vietnamese summer rolls, gyoza from Japan, Korean bulgogi - strips of marinaded beef - and Malaysian chicken satay served with a good, punchy peanut and chilli dip. I also tried some kimchi to see if I found East Street's any less boring than I always have anywhere else's; I did not. Again, no fault of theirs; I guess pickled cabbage is just pickled cabbage.
For main courses, Anders headed for Thailand while I popped over to Vietnam. Anders' Khao Soi, noodles and chicken breast in a sticky rich red curry sauce had a nice earthy nuttiness to it; the hugeness of the portion could be seen as a good or bad thing depending on appetite. My Gao Xa Xao Ot, a fiery stir-fry of chicken, peppers and carrot was superbly fresh but felt a little generic - the sort of dish I could, and do, make at home.
We tried two desserts, a ginger crème brûlée which was nicely creamy if not particularly gingery, and some delightful green tea ice cream which tasted pleasingly strongly of the tea and as such proved astringently palate-cleansing after the chilli heat of our main courses. Anders felt that it wasn't as good as Nobu's, but then I don't imagine Nobu's is only £3.85 for two generous scoops. I also enjoyed a Saigon Negroni which substited lighter-than-Campari Aperol and added a slightly overwhelming slug of lychee liqueur to this classic cocktail.
From the short list of astutely-chosen wines - all fragrant whites and peppery reds to marry with the strong flavours of Eastern cuisine - we ordered a New Zealand Gewürztraminer; its soft, honeyed gardenia florality was perfect with our food. That it was poured without our being invited to taste it was the only glitch in otherwise spot-on service of the here's-your-food-now-we'll-leave-you-alone-to-enjoy-it variety.
East Street has much to offer the armchair traveller; it's good fun, good food and good value - our three courses, wine and a few extras would have come to under £70 making it far more affordable than a holiday to any of the countries represented within. I might not be hurrying back myself, but for anyone who's not seen it all before, East Street is definitely a destination worth exploring.
East Street, 3-5 Rathbone Place, London W1T 1HJ Tel: 020 7323 0860 http://www.eaststreetrestaurant.com
I was invited to review East Street
I had to admire the chutzpah of the marketing guy who sent me, unsolicited, a pretty-generous gift voucher to spend at the newly-opened Soho branch of growing Indochine canteen chain Banana Tree. "We would like to invite you personally to come and try out our new restaurant in Soho!" went the accompanying email; "If you like us, blog it! - if you hate us - let us know, as we are all about improvement and value all opinions, especially yours."
Flattery will get you everywhere with me, and where it doesn't get you bribery usually will, so an offer comprising both was always going to be pretty compelling. If I felt the slightest hint of righteous indignation at so flagrant an attempt to curry my favour, it was swiftly dispelled by the mischievous knowledge that even if I did love the place I didn't have to write about it, and if I hated the place, I didn't have to not write about it - the very opposite of their desired outcomes and more fool them for sending out money willy-nilly. Talk about sticking it to the (marketing) man.
But such an expensive and potentially risky marketing strategy must have been backed up by as much confidence in the product as money in the budget and sure enough, Banana Tree was, well, pretty top banana. Conscious that readers might not take me at my word knowing that my presence there had essentially been bought, I took along my pal Nicola who, as a director of a high-end hotel and restaurant group knows her stuff and would, I knew, not hold back with her opinions good or bad. Guess what? She loved the place too.
The @ symbol (or to give it its proper name, the 'at symbol') has had a number of uses in its 111-year lifetime. Originally conceived as accounting shorthand for 'at the rate of', with the arrival of email in the 1990s the humble @ came into worldwide(web) usage as an integral part of every email address. Since 2006 however, the sign has acquired a new prominence as the opening character of every Twitter username; other means of communication are old hat - these days Twitter is where it's @.
Don't go looking for smart new Thai restaurant @SIAM on Twitter though; the username does exist, but it's not them - in fact it's one of the thousands of dormant accounts which include, frustratingly, @hughwright, an Evangelical Christian in the US who's not tweeted since May last year. And not that you would, but don't go looking for it in Siam either - you'd have a job to, as no such place exists, the Kingdom of Siam having become Thailand for good in 1949. Do however go looking for it on Frith Street, slap-bang in the heart of Soho, where you will find it, especially if what you're looking for is some really very good Thai food at not-too-hideous prices.
I'll say now for the avoidance of doubt that when I say 'really very good' I only mean in my self-confessed inexpert opinion; whilst I absolutely love Thai food, I can't pretend to know a very great deal about it. When I was invited along to experience @SIAM (something else I'll make clear now for the avoidance of doubt) I did think about being a bit mean and taking my Thai friend so that he could be the judge of authenticity. Realising however that that would just make me look and sound like an arse, I instead invited my lovely friend Greg, whose expertise is as non-existent as mine. Both of us know what we like and what tastes good however, and I base this post entirely therefore on the degree to which we enjoyed what we ate.
Seated at a slightly-cramped-but-great-for-people-watching window table, we ordered a selection of vegetarian and fish dishes, Greg being one of those poor misguided souls who has forsworn the consumption of lovely meat. First came some gorgeous corn fritters, deep fried kernels bound in a red curry-scented batter served with 'aromatic syrup', a sticky, sweet chilli dip. Tom kha goong - a rich, sweet and sour coconut milk-based soup containing fat prawns - was creamy, zesty and luxurious, the lemongrass within not over-powering the other flavours.
Perhaps surprisingly, the only duff dish of the night was that most ubiquitous of Thai specialities, green curry; for many diners this would be the default choice, hence our ordering it to see if it passed muster. As it was, it was disappointingly bland, with no discernible taste of the advertised sweet basil, but perhaps this was due to the presence of tofu, which as we all know exists only to stop vegetarians dying from protein deficiency. Or perhaps it was just that everything else had been so exciting and complex that our palates, already dancing with so many joyful flavours, could no longer discern or appreciate subtlety.
Washed down with a bottle - OK I'll confess, two - of a peachy, floral Gavi di Gavi, it was an excellent meal which had we not been guests of the restaurant would have come in at about £50 a head, or without the wine about £30 - great value for such high quality in the heart of the West End. It was made even nicer by very pleasant surroundings - the room, although basic, has been carefully designed with some attractive touches including a huge, ornate Buddha - and attentive, nothing's-too-much-trouble service from which every table was benefitting.
This notwithstanding, I'd certainly encourage any fan of Thai food, or indeed of good food generally, to give it a go. But by-pass the website, and head straight for the restaurant itself; if you don't enjoy it, I'll eat my h@.
@SIAM, 48 Frith Street, London W1D 4SF Tel: 020 7494 4511 http://www.atsiam.co.uk (though as above, I wouldn't bother if you value having normal blood pressure)
