Brasserie Zédel

Anyone who, like me, was living in London in the 1990s will remember Atlantic Bar & Grill. Owned by the then-coolest cat in town, Oliver Peyton - the Russell Norman of his day, now better known for his role as a judge on Great British Menu - Atlantic, with its snappy bouncers and seemingly untraversable velvet rope, was for a time at least the place to see and be seen, if only you could get in.

It's rather poetic then that in its new incarnation as Brasserie Zédel, what was once London's most exclusive venue is now among its most democratic, offering all-day dining at extremely accessible prices to a staggering 240 covers at a time. Reservations are taken (fancy!) but a substantial proportion of tables are kept for walk-ins meaning that, unlike Atlantic, any and everyone is able to get in.

And get in they must if Rex Restaurant Associates, the Chris Corbin and Jeremy King-helmed investment vehicle behind Zédel  is to make back the fortune that must have been spent on the decor, one of London's most jaw-dropping rooms by a country mile. Shayne Brady, the impishly-handsome head designer at David Collins Studio has turned what was a dark and imposing subterranean space into a light, even dazzling room with acres of pink-hued marble, brass railings and real gold leaf on the capitals atop the room's mighty columns.

As for the pricing, much has been made of how cheap many dishes on Brasserie Zédel's all-French menu are - not least the soupe du jour at a no-it-can't-be £2.25 - but it's not necessarily a cheap restaurant; on my most recent visit, one of several since it opened, four of us clocked up a bill of about £40 a head once a couple of decent bottles of wine had been added to the mix. Rather, it is one offering value for money almost unheard of not just in London's West End but just about anywhere.

Starters start with that soup and peak at £7.75; particularly brilliant are the crème Dubarry - a thick cream of cauliflower soup - and the soupe de poissons at £4.75, almost as good as The Ivy's at two-thirds of the price. Salads, too, impress, particularly endive and roquefort which happily marries the bitterness of chicory to the saltiness of blue cheese.

Of the main courses, even the simplest steak haché - £7.50 on its own or available as part of the £8.75 for two courses or £11.25 for three prix-fixe - is noteworthy, using good beef and enlivened by a perky sauce au poivre. The vast choucroute Alsacienne, £11.75 and a meal in itself, is as delicious a mountain of pickled cabbage and pork as you'll ever find.  

Desserts continue the theme of being far better than one would expect for the price. I simply can't fault the ile flottante - £2.75! - and even the café gourmand with the prix-fixe is a generous serve, three mini pastries with a cafetiere of decent filter coffee. There's also all manner of ice-cream coupes, sorbets, tarts and cakes, all for under a fiver.

In a restaurant of this size, serving this many people, choreographing service is bound to be a challenge and to date my only real gripes with Brasserie Zédel have been around this. Firstly, wherever the kitchen is in this behemoth of a building, it is clearly too far from the dining room to ensure that food arrives piping hot; nothing I have eaten has been much hotter than tepid although it's tasted none the worse for that. 

Also, in the time it takes for plates to arrive at the tables, sauces can congeal; a quick whisk with a fork at the service station before presentation would help no end. Worst of all, on my most recent visit our main courses arrived before we had even finished our starters and rather than being taken away, they were served while one of our party raced under pressure to finish her soup, which is a serious no-no in my book. So it's not perfect, but it's still early days for Brasserie Zédel and with luck and a little more time these glitches should iron out. 

Everything else - the reasonably-priced wine list, the perfect classic cocktails being served in the beautiful Art Deco Bar Americain, the camp coral pink napkins one of which, mea culpa, found its way into my handbag - make this easily one of the most exciting new openings in London this year.

As I write, reservations have just opened for Corbin & King's next project, Cafe Colbert on Sloane Square; with its SW1 location and aristocratic landlord it is unlikely that it will be as democratic as Brasserie Zédel.  No matter; for here is a restaurant that in both pricing and geography is truly accessible to anyone - and not a velvet rope in sight.

Brasserie Zédel, 20 Sherwood Street, London W1F 7ED Tel: 020 7734 4888 http://www.brasseriezedel.com

 

 

 

Posted by +Hugh Wright

East Street

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

@SIAM, Soho

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.

Next we enjoyed Pla Hoi Shell, seared scallops served in a cleverly-spiced dressing with enough heat to exhilarate without masking the sweetness of the flesh. Shards of crisp green apple on top added a pleasantly contrasting texture. Also very clever was a dish of steamed sea bass with chilli, served with braised lettuce in a salty, citrusy broth consisting of lime, fish sauce and sugar - a textbook example of umami. Soft-shell crab, bathed in a sticky sauce ('a light chilli jam' according to the menu) was excellent too, none of its flavour lost in the frying process and complemented by a crisp, bright salad.

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.

I can't let it pass without comment that, for a restaurant with such an apparently contemporary name, the very use of the @ symbol suggesting that here is a business that is embracing the digital age, their website - every modern business's shop-window on the world - is fairly terrible. Music blares unwarned and unwanted from the speakers the moment one lands on the homepage, typos abound ('comtemporary' anyone?), navigability is next-to-non-existent and there are even factual inaccuracies - sorry, @SIAM, but you are not 'The only Thai restaurant in Soho', not by a long shot. Such inadequacies don't do what is in fact a very good little restaurant justice.

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)

Watatsumi

I remember with almost Proustian clarity my first taste of Japanese food. It was 1995, and a new bar called Foundation had opened to great fanfare in the basement of Harvey Nichols, replacing the Sloane Rangers' canteen Joe's Cafe. It was a sleek modern space, all black marble floors and glass pillars, with a waterfall running down the full length of the back bar. As well as swanky cocktails, some rather nice wines and a selection of primo cigars - which of course you could smoke indoors, this being more than a decade before the smoking ban - they served yakitori, wooden skewers of char-grilled meat and vegetables in a sticky, moreish marinade.

The smokiness of the meat, the salty-sweet marinade and pungent onions or peppers combined to create a sensation of taste which I now know to be umami but which back in the nineties I just called 'delicious'; whatever it was, from the first little plateful I was hooked and so began a love affair with Japanese food which continues to this day. (Foundation alas is no more; it's now a Wagamama, which seems rather fitting).

You can imagine then that I was rather pleased to be invited along to Watatsumi, a new-ish Japanese restaurant in the Club Quarters Hotel (nope - me neither) on Northumberland Avenue, just off Trafalgar Square. A noble stab has been made at giving the high-ceilinged, columned room a Japanese feel; paper screens zig-zag along one wall and branches of cherry blossom stand in tall thin vases on windowsills, but the overall effect is more Ikea than izikaya.

It's easy to excuse the room however as the food being served therein is really rather good. Setting out 'to show that there is more to Japanese cuisine than raw fish', Watatsumi offers all the familiar staples - sushi, sashimi, tempura and, yes, yakitori - alongside an innovative selection of hot dishes best summed up as western favourites given an eastern flavour. Thus, for example, US or English steaks are served with spicy miso or wasabi sauce, and sea bass ('pan-fried' of course, as if it could be fried in anything else) comes with shiso butter.

Alyn and I ordered a selection of dishes covering most sections of the menu, starting with some good, prettily-presented sashimi (salmon, tuna and yellow tail) all subtle and smooth and, at £13.50, good value for six pieces. A California roll, from a selection all available as maki (roll) or temaki (hand roll), was excellent, a little loosely packed but of very good flavour and texture, both light and fresh. Watatsumi crispy calamari, deep-fried baby squid dusted with a spice mix, were also splendid, tangy and lip-smacking in that way Nice 'n' Spicy Nik Naks are. This, believe me, is a good thing.

For our main courses we both ordered beef - the prawns and lobster was recommended which of course it would be at £45 a pop - a 250g bavette steak 'marinated in spicy miso and grilled' for Alyn and Fuji burger for me. Alyn's steak was full of flavour and cooked beautifully medium-rare, the best way with bavette, but my 'burger' - actually a bit of a misnomer as what came was two bun-less patties of seasoned beef - was just a little strange. The patties had the same appealing savoury tang as the calamari had had, but the accompaniments - purple potato chips and steamed rice - were fairly bland and didn't add much. We very much enjoyed a flawless dish of vegetable tempura though, and the selection of chilli sauces - sweet, mayo and hot - served with it.

With the exception of mini moshi - lovely sesame or vanilla-flavoured balls of ice-cream coated in pounded sticky rice and served with a shot of lychee liqueur - there was nothing remotely Nipponese about the desserts, and although a cheesecake made with English strawberries on a speculoos base was absolutely gorgeous, I wonder if any restaurant should admit on the menu to using Philadelphia in the recipe.

Overall the meal was very enjoyable and service, for the most part, was good - our waiter was friendly and knowledgeable - but there were a few too many incidences of plates being cleared the second the food on them was finished, wine glasses being topped up after a single sip was taken and once, unforgivably, food being served to an empty seat while Alyn was away from the table, for us to feel completely comfortable. If the staff could just relax a bit, customers will too, and good word-of-mouth, which Watatsumi certainly deserves, should spread - which is vital given that the competition in this touristy part of town consists of the sorts of terrible chain which don't deserve to thrive but, depressingly, do.

I'm not sure that the memory of this Japanese meal will linger as long as that of my first, but it's certainly stayed with me at least a couple of weeks later - not bad as remembrances of dinners past go.

Watatsumi, 7 Northumberland Avenue, London WC2N 5BY Tel: 020 7036 8520 http://www.watatsumi.co.uk  

Criterion Restaurant, Piccadilly

Criterion Restaurant is rather like Narnia. Not only in that you step through unremarkable doors into a realm of almost unbelievable splendour, but also in that however much you might ask around you'll struggle to find anyone who's ever actually been.

For several years a high-profile outpost of Marco Pierre White's in-name-only restaurant stable, after the turban-wearing one's departure Criterion struggled for some time to find an identity for itself and slipped from the culinary radar, sustained I would imagine by special offers and passing trade - of which, on Piccadilly Circus, there must be plenty.

Now however Criterion is seeking to assert its status as a serious food destination and based on the evidence of my recent visit, they certainly mean business. Membership of the Sustainable Restaurant Association asserts their eco-credentials and all the favourite foodie buzzwords - local, seasonal, organic - are present and correct on a menu which majors in best of British with some high-falutin' fine dining touches. Served in what is indisputably one of London's most spectacular dining rooms, a neo-Byzantine orgy of soaring mosaic ceilings embellished with more gilt than Midas' loo, it's an attractive proposition - but does it deliver?

Les Deux Salons

One of the most common assumptions about restaurant bloggers is that we'd all really like to be professional restaurant critics, and some, I don't doubt, would. I wouldn't, because I'd be crap at it; I don't have a critic's detachment, and it goes against my nature to actively look for the bad as well as the good. In blogging as in life, it is simply my nature that I always look for the positive. Be it people, situations, art, books or, in the present context, restaurants, I live by the ever-hopeful premise that in everything and everyone there is something inherently good; even Hitler loved his dog.

You'll appreciate then how hard it is for me that I really can't think of a single good word to say about Les Deux Salons, a sprawling all-day brasserie located just off the Strand. On paper it should be so good; owners Will Smith and Anthony Demetre are the chaps behind Michelin-starred Arbutus in Soho and Wild Honey in Mayfair, so it's certainly got pedigree. But based on my recent experience, for afternoon tea with fabulous fashion blogger Michael Ford, Les Deux Salons may prove to be the mutt of the litter.

Anyone who's been to Dean Street Townhouse - as I have just a couple of (dozen) times - will recognise the sort of dark wood, dark colours, brass fittings look that Les Deux Salons has gone for, both having been designed by the increasingly ubiquitous Martin Brudnizki. However, whereas from day one the Townhouse looked worn-in and welcoming, the room here - or the room we were in; there are of course deux - just looks like an off-the-shelf, generic brasserie, the paint too glossy, the 'aged' mirrors obviously brand new. It doesn't feel like any love's gone into the interior, nor does there seem to be much attention paid to what goes on within it; I noticed several wobbling tables, one of our teacups was stained and the dirty cloths on adjacent tables were allowed to remain in situ and in sight for far too long.

By far the worst offence however was the meal itself. It might seem unfair to judge a restaurant on something as incidental as afternoon tea rather than its a la carte offering, but my feeling is that if a restaurant is going to operate all day, then it should maintain its standards all day. Michael and I chose the Champagne Afternoon Tea at £25, consisting (as one would expect) of tea, finger sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jam, a choice of cakes and a glass of Champagne. I say Champagne; what we were brought was certainly a sparkling wine, and quite possibly a demi-sec Champagne, but tasted suspiciously like Prosecco. Without it we would have paid £7.50 less, but even then I don't think we would have felt that we'd had value for money.

The finger sandwiches, of which there were half a dozen each, were the sorriest, dullest assortment I've ever seen. Michael's vegetarian selection was entirely cheese - the same cheese at that - while mine was barely more varied; so-so salmon, processed ham, all in very ordinary, very dry sliced bread. Neither of us finished our measly six fingers despite Michael's  having not eaten that day and my famously prodigious appetite. There was no sign of say, egg and cress, or cucumber, the kind of light, tasty fillings one expects, and usually gets, at afternoon tea.

Our scones were, in fairness, pretty good - that really is about the most enthusiasm I can muster  - but the cakes were dreadful. Chocolate cake, listed on the menu as 'moist', was so dense that the first - and last - forkful stuck in my throat. Quatre quarts, described uninspiringly by our waiter as 'like a dry cake', was like a dry cake. We didn't have the appetite or interest to try the carrot cake; for all I know it could have been the most amazing feat of bakery since Monsieur Carême invented the soufflé, but I doubt it. Our teas, from an unexciting but OK selection, were fine.

Service was...well service was alright, but not great. Our waiter - or at least, the waiter who we saw the most of  - was efficient enough but lacked warmth, and seemed to almost resent any questions or interaction over and above the bare minimum (Michael's request for vegetarian sandwiches for example was greeted with a look of such incredulity that a third-party observer might have thought we'd asked him to find us transport to the sun). When another waiter came to clear our table and I politely explained why more than half of our food remained untouched  - basically because it was dry, heavy stodge - he did thank me and say that he would 'tell the kitchen' but this didn't translate into any reduction on the bill which, with 12.5% service, came in at a hefty £28 each for mediocre food, average tea and ordinary possibly-not-even Champagne. The Woleseley it most certainly ain't.

All that aside, I did greatly enjoy the company; fortunately Michael was sufficiently laid back as to be able to laugh off the dreadfulness of it all and we enjoyed our couple of hours gossiping. If you're at all interested in fashion, or simply enjoy good writing and photography, then you could do a lot worse than subscribe to Michael's fabulous blog, Anastasia & Duck. But that, I'm afraid, is the only positive thing I can find to say about my experience of Les Deux Salons.

Les Deux Salons, 40-42 William IV Street, London WC2N 4DD Tel: 020 7420 2050 http://www.lesdeuxsalons.co.uk/

Mr Wu, Chinatown

'All You Can Eat' are easily my four favourite words in the English language. 'Hugh you look fabulous' and 'Cocktails are on me' come close, but it's the invitation - though I'll admit I tend to interpret it more as a challenge than an offer - to scoff as much as my heart desires that excites me every time.

I've enjoyed some exceptionally good all you can eat affairs; particularly memorable binges include a Champagne brunch at the Marriott, Budapest and a ninety minute breakfast blow-out at The Fullerton in Singapore. But, while I'm hardly a food snob at the best of times, put me within a bain marie's throw of an unlimited buffet and any care about the quality of what's on offer pales next to my delight at the quantity - and it's probably for this reason that I really liked Mr Wu.

Londoners will be familiar with the Wu brand even if, as many do, they abjure it as a cheap, base-quality tourist trap to be avoided at all costs. There's a number of branches dotted around central London operating under a variety of names including Mr Wu, MW and in the case of the Shaftesbury Avenue branch I visited, Little Wu, all offering an all you can eat Chinese buffet for next-to-no-money - £6.50 at this particular outlet. 

Although everything about Wu restaurants is designed to discourage lingering - hard wooden benches, fluorescent lighting that would be rejected as too harsh for Abu Ghraib, overpriced drinks - pay your money and you can stay as long as you like and eat as much as you can of the dozen or so stock Chinese and Oriental dishes on offer.

Now I know what you're thinking; food that cheap, in the West End, has to be terrible, right? Well, not entirely. Sure it's not brilliant quality, and much of it is a nuclear orange colour which screams 'Tartrazine!', but most of the dishes available are no worse than you'd get from an OK-if-not-great takeaway and some of it's even rather moreish. Highlights on my visit were char siu pork and satay chicken on skewers, both genuinely delicious and made with meat and poultry of sufficient quality as to withstand slight - only slight - over-cooking, and some juicy, spicy pork balls.

Everything else - including chow mein, beef in black bean sauce, sweet and sour chicken and 'Thai-style' battered prawns - was fine, albeit that the latter might more accurately have been described as 'discernibly prawn-flavoured battered bullets'. A ladle or two of any of the separate sauces - sweet and sour, sweet chilli and sweet peanut (OK, satay) - elevates any of the dishes from 'edible' to 'rather tasty'. By the time I'd shovelled down two hefty platefuls I was full, happy and satisfied that I'd had more than good value for my £6.50. 

Or rather, my fiance's £6.50; if you're wondering, perhaps incredulously, what I was doing at Little Wu in the first place, the answer is that my lovely man who doesn't earn very much wanted to treat me to a meal for a change and I knew that at a Wu we could eat, drink and tip for less than I'd usually happily spend on a main course.

Is this great food? Of course not, but it's not as bad as snootier critics might have you believe. Is it authentically Chinese? About as much as Christopher Lee playing Fu Manchu. But it's passable, palatable and pretty good value, and when it comes to bargain all you can eat, that, to be honest, is about all you can ask.

Mr Wu, 64 Shaftesbury Avenue, London W1D 6LU and branches. Tel: 020 7437 5088. No website.