8. St John Bakery - Custard Doughnut, £3.50

I've been tackling the old CV (read: cramming buzzwords into 2 sides of paper). And to quote the nagging voice in my head: "If you have time to blog, you have time to job hunt". 

However, lack of motivation for something you have to do (CV) + guilt preventing you from doing something you want to do (ANYTHING ELSE) = Productivity limbo. A place of incredibly. slow. progress. 

Most of my time there has been spent studying the ceiling with occasional bouts of formatting the crap out of what I wrote 3 years ago. And never before have I been so on top of my laundry...

So it's been a while, I'm sorry. But I've finally conscientiously managed my time and pro-actively enjoyed working effectively both alone and as part of a team with a friendly manner (BUZZZZZ). The CV is written and I am BACK!

Incidentally, if anyone knows of any jobs going with short hours and extravagant pay, do get in touch.

So anyway, stuff I ate. 

Next thing on the list: Custard Cream Doughnut from St John Bread and Wine, just down the road from my Square Pie lunch. OK, technically, The List said to go to their Maltby/Druid Street Arch but:

A) It's only open on Saturday mornings
B) There was mention of a queue
C) I don't do queueing on weekend mornings(a rule I've just discovered I have)

It felt rude to run into the restaurant just to grab a doughnut so I had a sit down for a pre-dessert of bread pudding and custard. It was just like your nan would make but, unsurprisingly, filling enough to make me get the doughnut to go.

When I finally felt able to contemplate eating it (dinner time -  balanced), it had passed its best in that tense way doughnuts have. But (top tip) 10 seconds in the microwave mellowed it out and got the custard all oozy again.

And... relax

My sister says I should write more organoleptically (apparently a word... look it up) but we all know what doughnuts smell like and they're pretty quiet.

However, this isn't just any custard doughnut. It has the kind of vanilla custard with the real vanilla black bits in (which means it's the good stuff). I wouldn't expect a doughnut to be dainty but this one was surprisingly light with quite a delicate flavour. 

I recommend scoffing it in bed, focusing on the ceiling while your CV stares accusingly at you from your laptop. I might even consider breaking my weekend queue rule for another one. It'll be a more productive use of my time than avoiding interview preparation.

7. Square Pie, Spitalfields - Pie and Mash

Pie is my go-to dish on the pub menu (I think I might actually have eaten all of them). In fact, wrap anything in pastry and I'll eat it. ANYTHING EDIBLE, not dirt or worse. You think you're so funny.

Anyway, my pie love meant I went happily to Square Pie; another excellent tin that does what the label says. That is, pies. Square pies.

For me, it's all about shortcrust - none of this pot pie with a puff pastry lid. That is not pie. That is stew with a hat. No, no, I want fully enveloping, thick, lardy crust. The golden kind that's a bit soggy on the inside but has a good bite to it on the outside.

And Square Pie nail it. Proper pie with proper pastry plus mash and a side (peas or beans; so beans, obviously) and gravy in a box for £7.50. Bargain.

My photography; as good as ever

The List didn't specify a filling (of which there are many), so I kept it traditional with the steak and Guinness and didn't regret it. Don't let the canteen hot plate put you off. Good stodgy pastry, soft or crispy in all the right places, big chunks of beef, rich ale-y gravy. OK, the mash was a bit 'school dinners', but then I've never found it particularly un-'school dinners' (sorry, Mum).

Side note: The confusing highlight of the whole experience was when  I said: "Thank you, that was yummy", to a member of staff clearing the table (as you do) and she looked at me, shrugged and muttered "I don't make them"; as if I had mistaken the place for a family run shop and her for Mrs Squarepie herself.

Being in Spitalfields Market, this is a great place for a comforting, pastry-cased sit down after traipsing round all that London has to offer in the way of moustached T-shirts. Especially on a cold grey day. It's like a hug in a box.

Thanks Mrs Squarepie.

6. Kao Sarn, Brixton Village - Som Tam

Yay, Brixton Village! Like pretty much every food blogger (so pretty much everyone then), I bloody love that place. I'm proud to say that I was there before it got trendy; when you'd eat your lunch at Cornercopia surrounded by empty units and the aroma of fish guts. I miss those smug days when it was a hidden gem, but there's no arguing the fact that the queues are well and truly justified.... *mutter*...day trippers... *grumble* etc.

If you really must visit Brixton Village (and I'd prefer you didn't), you won't regret it, wherever you eat. The place exists to satisfy every food craving... Thai, Pakistani, burgers and grills - Bukowski's is a new favourite of mine, crepes, cocktails, ice cream, pizza, tapas.... Also, vintage clothes, but I imagine they would take some chewing...

I was dead chuffed to find a Brixton Village classic on The List. I'd been to Kao Sarn a few times before (known as, The Thai One; in a similar way to The Crepe Place and That Really Good Pizza One) and loved it; not least because the BYO-ness means it's mega cheap. But also because the food is brilliant: quick and delicious and Thai.

I'd not had the Som Tam before (or Som Tum Thair as it said on the menu) so it needed another visit. The review for this one says it'll bring back memories of backpacking but it's funny... I never came across it in Peru... (Dad joke!TM)

Som Tum Thair is Thai for 'papaya salad with a kind of sweet and sour flavour and one hell of a kick'. Now, on a scale from 'pansy' to 'this lady', I'd rate myself as 'alright' with spicy food, but this one had my nose running good and proper and had my sister whimpering (she rates as 'less than alright').

It was a nice flavour to start, a contrasting mix of the citrusy papaya and ground shrimp flavours and a good, fresh crunch. But when those chillies kicked in, my taste buds pretty much retracted and it quickly became a test of endurance

I'd overlooked this dish in the past and, although it's nice to try something new, I think I'll continue to do so. I'm beginning to think The List is about 'the experience' more than the flavour - this experience was snotty.

I can, however, recommend the Pak Tod (listen up, Meat Liquor: that's how you deep fry a vegetable!), the lamb massaman (rich, flavoursome and HUGE), the lovely service (lovely) and the price (small). 

Not that it needs my recommendation; we arrived at 6.30pm and got a table straight away. By the time we finished at 7.15pm (a combination of efficient service and food inhalation), the queue was round the corner. Go here (but don't).

5. Meat Liquor, Charlotte Street - Deep Fried Pickles with Blue Cheese Dip

This entry has taken FOREVER to write and I'll tell you why. 

You know those comedy gigs where the comedian is less than good? Probably just me, but when they're dying on stage, I try really hard to laugh encouragingly. To save their feelings. Like their mum would. However, if I'm still not laughing, despite being really open to it, I feel personally let down.

That's how I feel about Meat Liquor. I was super excited, I wanted to love it, I was let down.

Another no reservations policy means a long wait. No leaving your number and going off for a stroll; you want to eat, you commit. My tips: get there early and get there together. Unless you want to do that heart-breaking walk to the back to join your late (possibly soon-to-be-ex) friends or sit alone at the bar while they catch up. 

They don't leave you stranded though. The complimentary, al-fresco onion rings (the size of your face!) keep you going. 

Look at 'em, the big oniony beasts.

Getting inside is like being hit in the face by an episode of Man v Food; all dingy lighting, graffitied walls and loud rock. I liked it, although the hunger from queuing combined with the sensory overload of the interior means my memory arrives in that patchy way a good night out does. The extensive cocktail list (can recommend the Donkey Punch - zesty) probably had a role to play too.

On our personal menu (already decided in the queue - efficient); the super-hyped Dead Hippy burger, the Dirty Chicken burger, Chilli Cheese fries and, of course, the Deep Fried Pickles as The List dictated. 


The burger is your all-American double patty-cheese-gherkin affair and filthy-good looking. However, that first bite took a while - the meat was well and truly done. Four or five bites in and there was no determinedly laughing through it; it definitely tasted like your all-American Big Mac. And the chicken burger? KFC in a bun.

The dirty virtue of the chilli cheese fries, which were just plain heart-attack-tasty, kept the disappointment at bay (I do love a soggy chip and when has a dish of meat, cheese and fried potato ever disappointed?). It would have been that one good joke of the evening that elicits a genuine snort. 

Looked good...

So The List. The golden, batter-y cases on those Deep Fried Pickles promised so much. But inside were skinny, little slithers of pickle in soggy batter, accompanied by a side of lumpy dip. Maybe they're on the list for the novelty factor but now I've had them once, I'm over it. On the other hand, if you don't care for pickles, this is the dish for you. 

So all a bit controversially average. We tried to laugh all the way through but by the end it was a disappointing, meaty 'meh'. I couldn't even find the enthusiasm to write about it.

However, none of this stopped us from demolishing the lot and we left a little meat-drunk. So much so, my sister walked into a window. 

Highlight of the evening.

For £22 for 2 people, you really can't complain and, thinking back, I might have judged the place by the wrong standards - this is not a posh, gourmet burger place; it's a 'here's your food now shovel it into your pie-hole' kind of place.  Never to be defeated, I will definitely be returning, just armed with a tiny bit more perspective. Hold the pickles.

Meat licked.

4. Burger & Lobster, Mayfair - Lobster Roll, £20

Jay Rayner recently wrote in the Observer that people who take ages to choose what to eat off the menu just don’t really like food.

Sorry Jay, I disagree.

I have difficulty choosing because I want EVERYTHING. It does make for some dawdling but you'll just have to deal with it and wait patiently.

However, I’m liking this time-saving trend towards limited menus – makes my life easier. Burger and Lobster is one of these. It does exactly what it says on the tin, no messing about: come here, eat a burger or lobster.... or a lobster roll, as The List demands. All of it £20 with fries and salad. Easy.

With the no reservation policy for parties less than 6 and visiting on a Friday night, the Pillock and I were prepared for a wait – 2 hours as it turned out. However, unlike places like Meat Liquor, you don’t have to prove your commitment by queueing and can give them your number and wander off in search of a distraction from the hunger. We ended up in a not-so-nearby pub for a starter of beer and crisps.

After an hour and a half, when all conversation had been replaced with hunger-rage, we decided to head back to beg for a table. Thankfully, we got a place to wait at the bar where we found out we could eat. It helps to be charming but it could have been the unfocused, hunger-crazed glint in my eye that convinced the nice door lady to let us in before she lost a limb.

Despite the nondescript exterior, inside, the restaurant felt very New York with high tables and booths (an opinion based entirely on Sex and the City episodes) and the bar seats turned out to be pretty nice, despite (read: thanks to) the occasional refreshing spritz of runaway cocktail.

But anyway, the lobster roll - a kind of amalgamation of burger and lobster. Blobster if you will.

I was happy to oblige The List's demand. Being a bit uncultured, I’ve not had lobster in lobster-form before and perched at a bar is not the place to start. I made Pillock get the burger for the sake of balance. Check out the spread:

The one that looks like a burger is the burger

Succulent chunks of lobster in a Japanese mayonnaise-y sauce wrapped up in a brioche bun. It was good. REALLY good. The wait beforehand meant that it barely touched the sides on the way down, but the bits that did tasted rich and delicious. I instantly regretted agreeing to swap dinners with the Pillock halfway through.

I won't linger on the burger. It was as good as expected (that is, very) but 2012 seems to be the year of the burger and I’ve had better for less. Honest Burger in Brixton Village holds the best burger position in my heart.

Conclusion: go here for the lobster. For 20 quid, you get a whole load of very tasty food.

My only very minor complaint: what’s with serving food on paper? I hate finishing a meal to find you have a hole left with no sign of the paper that once filled it...

3. Gelupo, Soho - Blood Orange Granita £3-ish

I LIKE ice cream. In fact at any given point, I don't like to be more than a few hundred yards from an ice cream shop. You'd think it'd make travelling inconvenient but London seems to be filling up with gelatorias and, when they're interspersed with their poorer cousin, the frozen yoghurt shop, you can pretty much get across the city. Ice cream crawl anyone?

So I picked one of those rare sunny British Summer days (not that the weather plays any factor in my ice cream consumption - see graph) and headed for Piccadilly to give Gelupo a try. I took along my good friend and only person I know that likes ice cream more than me (I go nuts for dessert in any form; he is a purist - warm puddings actually offend him).

Because he wanted his own greedy animal name he'll be known as the Very Hungry Caterpillock.

Pillock for short.

The weather:ice cream phenomenom, nom, nom

I tend to avoid sorbet and the like; somehow getting less calories for the same price just doesn't feel like value for money. However, The List cares not for verging-on-fetishist desires and, while overlooking all that ice creamy goodness for the granita was tough, I stuck to it (while making a mental list of the flavours I will one day marry).

Handily comes with a spoon and a straw

It was pretty flippin' good. While it didn't satisfy the same sugary-fat craving as ice cream, the orange flavour was intense and fresh. Unsurprising considering that all they put in it is orange juice, sugar and ice. For it's simplicity and quality, it deserves it's top ten position and it's a refreshing treat for a hot day.

On a side note, and shamefully on my part (I blame my few remaining baby tastebuds), it did taste a little bit like a Calippo for grown-ups (remember those?!). But it was the best Calippo I've ever had - much less neon and none of the E-number kick of my youth.

In terms of the shop itself, Time Out was right; this place isn't a tourist trap. Having fought our way through the piles of tourists stuck in traps (aka rickshaws), it was a relief to get into the cool (in both senses of the word), stylishly decked-out shop.

Safe to say, it will remain an important outpost on my strategic ice cream map of London. However, the Pillock later said that the envious glint in my eye as I perved over his Bonet ice cream (chocolate, rum, amaretto, espresso and caramel) made him fear for his life so I'll admit; on my return, it'll be the gelato that gets my attention.

2. Yalla Yalla, Soho - Sawda Djej (Chicken liver with pomegranate molasses)

We all move in our own social circles and it should give you an idea of mine when I say that I ended up in the original, teeny-tiny Yalla Yalla having just attended the London premiere of Dark Knight Rises.

That's right, I move in the circles of utterly overwhelmed competition winners. Despite having walked apologetically (for not being even mildly famous) along the red carpet ("...the red carpet?! But I've come straight from work!"), the film was awesome. And what better way to reflect on an evening that included receiving a free bag of M&Ms (win!) and seeing Tom Hardy in the flesh, than to eat some highly recommended offal?


OK, bit blurry BUT, from right to left: Christopher Nolan (director), Christian Bale (that's right, Batman), Tom Hardy (Bane), some guy from WB. I was sat in front of Benedict Cumberbatch... sucker.

I know I said in my first post that there is literally nothing I won't eat, but liver (along with its good friend kidney) features pretty low on my "foods-I'll-go-out-of-my-way-to-eat" list, so I can't say I was overly excited about this one. However, The List had spoken... in so far as writing can speak.

I wasn't totally sure what pomegranate molasses were so I went off and googled it for you fine people and this is what I found:

"A thick, fragrant and gloriously tangy reduction of pomegranate juice, made by boiling the liquid to a sticky, syrupy consistency, pomegranate molasses is a key ingredient of Middle Eastern-Mediterranean cooking."

So there you go... pomegranate goo.

I like pomegranate goo. The sweetness was a yummy contrast to the savoury liver and made for a tasty dish. The down side was that animal-filter-grainy texture only kidneys and livers can provide; the one that reminds you THIS IS GOOD FOR YOU and in no way steak. I'm trying to think of a comparison but I think it might be in a league of its own; answers in the comments please.

 

Not the prettiest of dishes so kept the picture dainty (thank you Time Out)

However, this was mezze. I love mezze. It's the perfect meal for the indecisively greedy - you're allowed to try a bit of everything you fancy (something that's just that bit less socially acceptable with British food). So the livers were accompanied by spicy sausages, lamb parcels, houmous and pitta, and complimentary olives (complimentary food is another favourite). All this washed down with cocktails and finished off with a bit of Baklava, because dinner isn't dinner without a happy, sugary ending (despite the starter of free M&Ms).

All the dishes were excellent but, controversially, I'd have to say I preferred the sausages. Call me unadventurous but I think I prefer my odd pieces of animal nicely mushed up and indistinguishable. And who doesn't enjoy a spicy sausage?

There are 4 different Yalla Yallas around town but this (their first) restaurant is cosy (only 28 seats) and relaxed; one of those handy little "I-know-this-great-little-place" places. 

Keeping it simple at Yalla Yalla, Green's Court

In the end, I can see why the livers made the list - they're an unusual flavour and definitely worth a try even if you're not sure. However, having just revisited the menu, I've just spotted Sfiha which has pomegranate goo with lamb, hold the offal. Problem solved - that'll be on the list (my list, not The List) for next time, and there will definitely be a next time. 

1. Hawksmoor Bar, Spitalfields – Shortrib French Dip, £12

It took me over a month to actually get started on these top 100 dishes. I think I'm an ideas person - lots of grand ideas about self-improvement (or in this case, self-enlargement), not so much of the ol' plan execution. It doesn't help that I'm also a bit... not poor exactly but... "financially aware" and, despite the whole 'you can't take it with you' thing I mentioned last time, it'd be nice to have the option.

However, I do have a friend who is more of the doing kind and has a looser grip on their purse strings, who booked a table at the Hawksmoor Bar in Spitalfields and insisted I attend.

Now, I had ideas of maybe starting with a smaller (read cheaper) dish to ease myself into this project, maybe a £3 hot dog from Big Apple Hot Dogs, something like that, but a top ten-er?? Surely that has to be earned. Could I just dive right in like this?

Of course I could, I don't need telling twice to eat! And off I went.

Having sat down in the moodily-lit (dark), vintage-tiled bar, I made my order. For someone as indecisive as I am, it's pretty nice to relinquish all the responsibility of choosing to The List (capitalised to reflect it's impending importance in my life).



Oh my.

Oh my, oh my, oh my (it felt wrong to swear in writing but feel free to replace with your preferred expletive). I’m not normally one to over-exaggerate but put simply, this is possibly one of the tastiest things since tastebuds were invented. 

Seriously, I have inappropriately intense feelings towards this little meaty, cheesy slice of heaven. Top 10 in Time Out’s book, number 1 in my LIFE.

Melt-in-the-mouth braised shortrib with nommy (the technical term) melted cheese in a glazed roll with super-rich, marrow gravy for dipping. Just look at it:

Not my own photo I'm afraid, this was before I had the idea of inflicting my opinions on others. But Hummanah!

That first bite is followed by a narrowing of the vision and flashbacks to your happiest childhood memory. The second bite is spent in quiet contemplation, while the third is sprayed over your dining companion as you try to put into words just how delicious it is before grudgingly allowing them a taste.

Mine was accompanied with poutine; a Canadian dish of chips in that epic gravy, with cheese AND chicken AND an optional egg (rude not to). HOW have I never heard of this before?? The token nod towards vegetables came in the form of jalepeno coleslaw but, to be honest, that's now just a bit of a blur, distracted as I was by my gravy-induced euphoria.

While I'm here, I can’t not mention the Marmalade cocktail (of which there were multiple) – tangy, orangey sweetness; horribly easy to drink.

All-in-all a verging-on-religious experience and one I repeated within two weeks of the first visit, only this time with the addition of the peanut butter shortbread, which did not disappoint. Oh, and many, many more cocktails (a purse lightener, but totally worth it).

I now count myself as a very happy unofficial Hawksmoor spokesperson. As I have said to pretty much anyone I've crossed paths with since - GO HERE.

I think I might have made a mistake starting with this one - it's possible I'm spoilt for all other food now but I'm sure as hell looking forward to trying the rest!

An Introduction

So Time Out have published their 2012 list of 100 Best Dishes in London and, ever the fan of pointless yet potentially delicious goals, I have accepted the challenge. 

Why you ask? Yeah? Yeah. Well eating has always been a bit of hobby of mine, OK a major hobby, alright, a reason to live. And now, since developing a taste for coffee and moving from tolerating to liking both olives and celery, I’ve realised there is literally nothing I won’t eat. The grown-up taste buds have finally kicked in (I think this might actually mean the childhood tastebuds have died, god rest their tiny turkey-twizzler-loving souls) so what better way to give them a work out than by judging the opinions of others by eating an awful lot?

So, ignoring the protests of my purse (can’t take it with you) and waistline (I’m OK with cuddly), I embark on my pointless challenge. I’m almost certain this one will last longer than my last one*. I've even printed the list which now lives in my handbag so I can get the extra sense of achievement only the physical act of ticking off 'to do' lists with an actual pen can bring. 

Actually, as I write this, I’m already 5% of the way there (yes, that’s five of the dishes eaten and judged for those with a looser grasp of maths). I’ll be sharing my opinions on here in a shameless attempt to legitimise my gluttony. Hopefully you’ll be entertained or, at the very least get some ideas of where to go… that is, if you don’t fully trust Time Out…?

* to listen to the top 50 albums according to Rolling Stone magazine which tailed off after I’d fully exploited my housemate’s music collection. The more astute will notice there are actually 500, I started with 50 to make it more manageable, oops.