This review of a Las Vegas restaurant is a break from The Picky Glutton’s usual London-based coverage

Caesar’s Palace hotel in Las Vegas has several dining options and one of the glossier ones is Beijing Noodle No. 9. This Chinese restaurant is very eye-catching thanks to its fish tanks full of goldfish and oddly snowflake-like decor. It’s easily one of the most aesthetically pleasing restaurant I’ve been to in a while.

Sparkles!

As I’d expect from a Chinese restaurant, the service was efficient but brusque, while the menu was large with seemingly something for everyone. Besides noodle soups, there were also Dim Sum dishes, dumplings as well as many other Cantonese and Sichuanese favourites.

I opted for the Sichuan dan dan noodles. The thick soft noodles were topped with minced pork in a mildly spicy sauce. Sadly, this only had a very modest amount of the numbing, tingly taste of Sichuan pepper that I’d expect in a Sichuanese dish while the scatterings of pork were on small and excessively bitty. Disappointing.

Dan’s noodles were so good, they named them after him twice.

Templeton Peck had better luck with his wonton noodle soup. The thin, supple wonton skins were filled with a meaty chunk of pork, but the small tasteless bits of seaweed and dried shrimp added little. The clear, chicken stock soup was pleasing though, complimenting the won tons well, while the noodles were the same as those used in the Sichuan dan dan noodle dish. However, both our noodle dishes were a touch on the small side, at least by American standards.

Are the wontons supposed to look like that?

I was looking forward to the xiaolongbao, but these Shanghaiese soup dumplings were disappointing. Oddly, each dumpling was served in a foil cupcake shell which distorted their shape. This wouldn’t have mattered if they tasted good, but the skins were far too soft and thin, while the pork and soup filling was uninspiringly bland. Even the worst xiaolongbao that I’ve had in London are better than this.

Did Mr Kipling make these?

The pillow of pan-fried shrimp and chives was a mixed bag at best. The thin deep-fried dumpling-like skin was roughly the shape and size of a potato farl and filled with an odd mixture that had plenty of chives, very little actual shrimp and had a texture reminiscent of an omelette. Not what I expected at all.

Pleasing pan-fried pillow pancake?

Or billowy fun pillows?

Templeton Peck didn’t have room for dessert, but I opted for the mochi ice cream if only because a Japanese dessert on a Chinese menu seemed very out of place. Sadly, this dessert turned out to be rougher than a badger’s arse. Three separate blobs of ice cream were coated in a mochi skin, but the rice flour coating was far too thick and didn’t have the soft elasticity that’s the mark of a good mochi. Even the ice creams themselves weren’t very good – the green tea, passion fruit and vanilla flavours were spectacularly pedestrian.

Mochi monsters.

The Verdict

Although there are clearly some decent dishes to be had on the menu at Beijing Noodle No. 9, finding them amongst all the mediocre or just plain bad ones can be a tall order. Adding insult to injury is the high price. At £28 each when shared between two (with Templeton Peck having just one beer and excluding tips), the price is far too high given the lacklustre quality of the food and the large, unfocussed menu. One to avoid unless you’re desperate for food and can’t be arsed to travel any farther.

Name: Beijing Noodle No. 9

Branch tried: Caesars Palace, 3570 Las Vegas Blvd S, Las Vegas, NV 89109

Phone: 001 (702) 731-7604

Web: http://www.totalrewards.com/casinos/caesars-palace/restaurants-dining/beijing-noodle-no-9-detail.html (down at time of writing)

Opening Hours: Monday-Friday 11.00-22.30. Closed weekends (allegedly).

Reservations: yeah if you want

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two people: $28 (approx. £19 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

This review of some Las Vegas restaurants is a break from The Picky Glutton’s usual London-based coverage

The last time I visited Las Vegas I dined almost exclusively at rather pricey haute cuisine restaurants. This time around I was on a tighter budget so, with Templeton Peck in tow most of the time, I decided to chow down on just burgers. This isn’t an attempt to replicate the systematic, almost exhaustive survey I conducted of London’s burger eateries – more of a meandering, gut-busting gastronomic travelogue around the Strip.

Table of Contents (click to jump straight to a review)
BLT Burger
Burger Bar Mandalay Bay
Gordon Ramsay BurGR
Heart Attack Grill
Rattlecan

BLT Burger

Almost everything in Las Vegas is a replica of something from somewhere else, whether you realise it or not. BLT Burger inside the Mirage hotel is a good example – what seems like a Vegas original is actually a spin-off of a New York restaurant. I immediately started having doubts about having dinner at BLT upon spotting lamb burgers and a staggeringly long list of other non-beef options on the menu, but I needn’t have worried.

Templeton Peck and I shared a starter of deep fried dill pickles. Each slice was coated in a slightly crisp and fluffy batter. It was a touch oily, but not excessively so and didn’t get in the way of enjoying the moist, dill-flecked vegetable underneath.

Pickle tickle.

The buffalo wings had an intensely aromatic whiff of tabasco sauce. However, while each wing was meaty, moist and coated in a slightly thick, even layer of crisp batter, the spiciness was modest at best. They also couldn’t compare to the intensely tender fattiness of the wings available at Patty and Bun back in London.

You can be my wingman anytime.

I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the smoothly ground beef patty used in the Classic burger. While not especially succulent, it was moist, tangy, lightly smoky and sweet. The vegetables were crisp and refreshing, while the bun held everything together and stayed out of the way. Simple, but largely effective.

‘Classic’ – the less dumpy relative of ‘normal’, ‘standard’ and ‘plain’.

Templeton Peck opted for a Cowboy burger which used the same patty as the Classic but with the addition of barbecue sauce, ‘tobacco’ flavoured onions, cheese and bacon. Sadly, the intriguing tobacco onions tasted nothing of the sort, but the lightly smoky barbecue sauce didn’t overwhelm the taste of what was essentially a sweet and fatty bacon cheeseburger.

The cowboy had some hot meat between those buns.

The waffle fries may look and sound odd, but their crisp fluffiness isn’t a million miles away from the usual deep-fried potato-based burger accompaniment. The main difference here was the odd flat, wide, griddle pan shape. A cute gimmick, nothing more.

Waffle fries? What next? Waffle falafel?

The onion rings were a disappointment. While whole slices of mildly sweet onion were used, it was hard to appreciate them as they were buried under a thick layer of doughy, bland batter.

Olympic rings?

Although a range of desserts are available, those with less capacious stomachs would likely be more than satisfied with one of the voluminous milkshakes. Although the thick chocolate shake is topped with a large mass of chocolate whipped cream and then drizzled with chocolate sauce, the actual chocolate flavour is unremarkable and muted at best.

Shake it off.

As is increasingly common at burger joints on both sides of the Atlantic, a selection of ‘hard’ alcoholic shakes are also available. Templeton Peck opted for the Dark and Frozen, where some dark rum was topped with layers of ginger beer and vanilla ice cream. It apparently tasted exactly as you’d expect it to – although Peck enjoyed the Dark and Frozen, it wasn’t interesting enough that he’d have it again.

Dark and Frozen.

Templeton Peck couldn’t find room for a proper dessert, but my interest was piqued by the deep-fried Oreos, a dish that would no doubt make Elvis’ heart swell with pride and quite possibly cardiac arrhythmia. The slightly crisp, fluffy batter of each slice was essentially identical to that used in the deep fried pickles, but instead of a slice of vegetable at the centre of each one, there was a warm Oreo cookie that had been rendered soft and downy by the heat of the cooking oil.

Although it looks and sounds odd, the smooth, soft textures made these Oreos far better than the usual off-the-shelf varieties. The wispy vaguely vanilla-flavoured dipping sauce was a pleasing accompaniment, but the bland chocolate dipping sauce wasn’t worth bothering with.

They really will deep fry anything in America.

Far tastier then it has any right to be.

Apart from a massive red ornament dangling over the kitchen, the decor isn’t especially interesting. The front of the restaurant which faces out onto the Mirage’s shopping promenade is especially characterless, while tables further inside have to contend with the ever present Vegas hallmark of multiple flatscreen TVs showing sports. Service, while not especially warm or friendly, was at least efficient and quick.

Burger Bar Mandalay Bay

I visited the Mandalay Bay’s Burger Bar before back in July 2011. Like many other eateries in Vegas, the Burger Bar has the feel of a sports bar with its dim lighting and numerous screens showing sports. The service on my weekend lunchtime visit was friendly and started out reasonably efficient, but became increasingly unreliable and slow as the place filled up with rowdy football fans.

The American Classic bacon cheeseburger is the closest thing the Burger Bar has to a plain burger. The sharp onions, lettuce, pickles and icy tomatoes are served on the side, while the lightly toasted bun is unobtrusive and holds the half-pound patty, the American cheese and the two streaky bacon rashers together well.

The patty isn’t bad, but it’s not as accomplished as its counterpart at BLT Burger. Cooked medium rare, the moderately coarse patty is mildly tangy and reasonably moist with a slight chewy edge. There’s little to say about the American cheese. The fatty bacon did have an initial hit of smokiness, but this quickly subsided.

When in doubt, add cheap pork and even cheaper dairy.

Buttermilk onion rings sound enticing, but the reality was a slightly oily, thick, crunchy, stodgy batter that was hard going. The batter also obscured the sweet moistness of the sweated onions underneath.

Was it the buttermilk’s day off?

The Burger Bar has a couple of quirky burger-shaped desserts. This time around I opted for the burger cheesecake, but its construction wasn’t as elaborate or as whimsical as the dessert burger I had last time. The buns are actually a pair of firm, glazed doughnut slices. Sandwiched in between was a dense tab of reasonably creamy cheesecake as well as slices of pineapple and strawberry. It’s not a bad dessert, but not only does it taste unremarkable, it’s also not nearly as fun as it should be.

Not a cheeseburger, a cheesecake burger!

Gordon Ramsay BurGR

Gordon Ramsay is just as much a celebrity in the United States as he is in Britain and nowhere in America is this more evident than Las Vegas. The angry blonde’s empire is slowly expanding across the Sin City with a steak restaurant, a recreation of an English pub and now a burger restaurant set within the Planet Hollywood hotel.

The worldwide Planet Hollywood franchise of restaurants are known for their lacklustre burgers, so the hotel’s decision to bring in a Ramsay-branded burger restaurant is an intriguing one. Even more curious is the layout of BurGR (a play on Ramsay’s initials) – the boundary between the brightly lit, colourful dining room/bar and the hotel lobby is a blurry one with only a few partitions separating the two.

Service was, as expected for Las Vegas, a well-oiled, efficient machine. We were seated with our orders taken and drinks on our table within five minutes of stepping through the door.

Interestingly, a vast beer menu was available on an iPad temporarily deposited at our table. Czech Republic and Gangster Limp opted for the safe choices of a Coors and a Stella Artois, while Templeton Peck went for a Sam Adams ale instead. I settled on a root beer, which was rather muted at best.

What can be more American than root beer?

As usual I opted for the plainest burger on the terrifying-looking menu to see how well the kitchen coped with the basics. In this case it was the American Burger – a medium rare patty topped with American cheese, ‘butter lettuce’, tomato, pickle and onion. The coarsely ground patty was  lightly seasoned, moist and mildly tangy with a subtle but evenly sweet, smoky effect, but these characteristics were overwhelmed by the thick, airy bun which got in the way of the meat. The vegetables were mostly unremarkable, but there was the distinctive tang of excessive salt – this could’ve been in the cheese or the ‘butter lettuce’. Either way it was unnecessary and slightly unpleasant.

Well, a burger I guess.

Czech Republic, Templeton Peck and Gangster Limp all opted for the Farm Burger, where a patty had been topped with duck bacon, cheddar and a fried egg. However, they respectively chose to have their burgers cooked rare, medium rare and medium respectively.

Git down to the farm

Gangster Limp’s burger arrived medium rare rather than medium, but he, along with the other two, enjoyed the richness added by the egg, the moistness of the tangy patty and the creaminess of the cheddar. I thought Czech Republic’s rare patty was a little on the bland side with the egg and dense, soy-like salty bacon providing most of the flavour, but he was adamant that the flash cooking preserved more of the meat’s flavour.

Pinko scum

We may have differed in our opinions when it came to the burger, but we were all unanimous in our disapproval of the fries. These curiously flat fries were incredibly dry and tough – the provided ketchup and other condiments were essential for successfully holding down these cardboard-like bits of potato.

Fossilised kitty litter.

A close second in unpleasantness were the onion rings. Although whole rings of onions gently sweated were present, they were covered in a thick, doughy batter and an excessive amount of sickly parmesan which obscured both their taste and texture. As expected for the US, the portion sizes of both the fries and onion rings were of planetary proportions – there was more than enough to share between the four of us.

Rings of power? No, not really.

My three dining companions were satiated, but I found just enough room for the Shake No. 1 – a mixture of caramel pudding and chocolate milkshake topped with a toffee cookie. The  massive dessert in a glass was almost inedible though – thick layers of sickly sweet sludge sitting on top of each other with a bland biscuit and a dense cream sitting on top. Thanks, but no thanks.

The Exxon Valdez has nothing on this mutha.

Heart Attack Grill

Las Vegas is all about excess. Apart from the hotel buffets, I can’t think of any restaurant more excessive then the Heart Attack Grill. Located in downtown Vegas not far from the Fremont Street Experience, this diner flaunts the heart stoppingly unhealthy nature of its food on its sleeve loudly and proudly.

The Heart Attack Grill’s flagship dish is the quadruple bypass burger, a four patty monster that contains two pounds of meat in total. According to the Guiness Book of Records, this 10,000 calorie beast is the world’s most calorific burger. If you fail to finish it, or any of the other burgers, then the waitresses, all dolled up to look like nurses, will give you a spanking (and you can buy the paddle too if you like).

According to our very friendly, chatty and flirtatious waitress, Nurse Rikki, 30-40 people order the quadruple bypass a day, but only two or three manage to finish the entire thing. Diners who weigh over 350 pounds eat for free (there are industrial-strength scales both inside and outside the restaurant), with one such chuffer waddling in behind us.

Self-harm.

Spanky panky.

Neither Templeton Peck nor I couldn’t bring ourselves to order the quadruple bypass, or even the two or three patty versions. We both opted for the single bypass burger which uses a single half-pound patty. I wasn’t expecting much from this burger, so I was pleasantly surprised by the offally, mildly tangy taste of the patty. It was a touch dry though and the slightly bitty grind is odd. The toasted bun does a good job of staying in the background and holding the entire sandwich together, while the vegetables are crisp and refreshing.

Hurtful things.

I had my single bypass plain, but Templeton Peck chose to add some American cheese and five slices of very fatty streaky bacon. This much fatty pork naturally obscured the taste of the meat to some extent, but a well-judged balancing of subtle flavours is hardly the name of the game here.

This might be a bad idea.

Even the side dishes and drinks are ridiculous. Despite being fried in lard, the soft, squidgy fries topped with chilli beef are very bland. If there was ever a dish that tasted of colours, then this is it.

This tastes of yellow and brown.

Similarly bland was the thick chocolate milkshake made with butterfat and topped with a tab of butter for comic effect. I could feel my arteries hardening with each slurp of the sludge-like mixture which didn’t even taste of anything.

Buttershake.

The Heart Attack Grill’s decor is suitably tongue in cheek. Spoof movie posters, from Burger Wars to A Few Good Burgers and 1,000,000 Calories B.C., line the walls, while news footage of the man who apparently did suffer a heart attack while dining here is proudly played on a loop above the bar. Even the receipts are stuffed with jokes.

Check out the smocks.

Poster boys.

Rattlecan

Formerly located inside The Venetian, this restaurant decorated in a faux graffiti style has now closed and, judging from my visit, not a moment too soon.

Rattlecan served up a few hotdogs and salads, but my focus was clearly on its burgers. The place also had an extensive selection of beers from the usual suspects to some more unusual choices. Templeton Peck was pleased with his Magic Hat, a light and fruity beer from Vermont.

I snacked on a bowl of dill pickle popcorn. Unlike the bland bone marrow popcorn from Dach and Sons back in London, this salty sack actually did taste like dill pickles although the lack of moisture spoiled the effect. Depressingly though, the popcorn turned out to be the highlight of our meal.

Pickle popcorn not pickled popcorn.

As usual, I opted for the simplest burger on the menu – in this case the Old School. Although billed as pink and juicy, the griddled patty was anything but – it was bitty, incredibly dry and heavily overcooked. Even the pickles, lettuce, onion and tomato (the latter three are served on the side) failed to add moisture to this distressingly cardboard-like slab of ‘beef’. The sesame brioche bun didn’t taste like brioche at all and was instead inoffensively soft and bland. I had to slather this atrocity in Tabasco sauce, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able eat it.

The worst burger I have ever had.

Templeton Peck’s Burner burger used the same awful patty as the Old School, but was more edible since it was topped with roasted green chillies, jalapenos and a spicy sauce. The fiery fruitiness apparently proved sufficient enough to camouflage the appalling quality of the patty.

Sadly, you can’t make out the spicy toppings on top of the patty in this burger.

The plain crinkle cut fries were bone dry fingers of reconstituted mush rather than actual slices of whole potato. I couldn’t eat more than a few of these fries – they’re easily the worst I’ve ever had. They’re even worse than the fossilised kitty litter potato things served up at BurGR.

The worst fries I’ve ever had.

The onion rings were only marginally better. Although whole slices of actual onion are at the centre of each ring, the parched, crunchy, coarse batter is not only bland but it also obscures whatever taste the onions have.

Horrid.

The Winner

Of the five Vegas burger joints surveyed here, BLT Burger was easily the best although it still wasn’t perfect. The patty at Gordon Ramsay BurGR is surprisingly good, but poor construction and some very shoddily made side dishes detract from the overall experience. Burger Bar and the Heart Attack Grill aren’t too bad, but each has their own problems preventing them from challenging BLT Burger for the top shot. Rattlecan was simply appalling – I wouldn’t serve such food to an animal.

I’m not sure if I’ll back in Vegas to try more burgers, so if you want even more Sin City burger reviews then check out the Vegas Burger Blog.

BLT Burger
Total cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $41 (approx. £28 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★★☆

Burger Bar Mandalay Bay
Average cost inc soft drinks but exc. tips: $31 (approx. £21 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★☆☆

Gordon Ramsay BurGR
Average cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between four: $27 (approx. £19 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★☆☆

Heart Attack Grill
Average cost inc soft drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $13 (approx. £9 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Rattlecan
Average cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $28 (approx. £19 at time of writing)
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Vege-might or vege-lite?

I’m not a vegetarian, but I do like to dabble with vegetarian food. However, my veggie-friendly sentiments aren’t shared by some of my friends and work chums who, at the mere suggestion of eating at a vegetarian restaurant, will inevitably whine and gripe in the most pathetic, close-minded, macho, proletarian way possible. The arguments that vegetarian food is insubstantial, tasteless, effete and ‘posh’ are clearly lazy and intellectual bankrupt. I’d like to say that the veggie pub food at Soho’s Coach and Horses is a shining example of what vegetarian food can be, but that sadly isn’t the case.

I started off with the cashew and thyme savoury soufflé which was fluffy and light, but with a dense crumb so it didn’t fall to pieces when sliced. Although the accompanying chutney was sweet and fruity, the actual soufflé itself was very bland.

Less like a soufflé, more like a vegetarian fish cake. And not a good one either.

The Prancing Hippy wasn’t impressed with his starter of tofu tempura fingers. The batter was thin, crunchy and thankfully free of excess oil, but its was more like fish batter than Japanese tempura. The tofu inside was light and airy, but also rather bland and the addition of seaweed wrapped around the tofu added little.

Don’t give me the finger!

For my main course I had the larger version of The Prancing Hippy’s starter. The cheesily named tofush and chips takes the age-old classic of fish and chips but replaces the fish with tofu. The batter was the same as in the starter, but the light, airy tofu was a little zestier and saltier which may have been due to the addition of better quality seaweed wrapped around the tofu. A heartier, denser tofu would have worked better though.

The chips weren’t really chips but dry, bitty fries instead. The accompanying tartar sauce tasted mostly of tart, vinegarish cornichons which wasn’t unpleasant, merely odd.

Don’t be a meathead.

Looks like fish, but it isn’t.

The Prancing Hippy opted for the pie of the day, which in this case turned out to be a mozzarella and vegetable pie with a potato crust. The crust was light and fluffy, resembling the one often found on shepherd’s pies, but this one was a little too dry. The filling consisted of root vegetables, such as carrots and turnips, along with mozzarella in a moreish sauce that was hard to identify. The vegetables weren’t overcooked so that they had just the right amount of firmness, but the pie as a whole wasn’t evenly cooked with some of the filling distinctly warmer than others. This was especially evident with the mozzarella – some pieces were viscous and gooey, while others were solid and a little chewy.

Pub pie photo.

Interestingly for an ostensibly vegetarian pub, The Coach and Horses doesn’t serve vegetarian beers or at least not exclusively vegetarian beers. I don’t drink alcohol, but The Prancing Hippy enjoyed his Fuller’s Chiswick Bitter. However, as a cask conditioned ale filtered using fish-derived products, he had to break his animal-friendly diet to do so. If you want to do better, then you’ll have to do your research beforehand – the oblivious staff don’t seem to have a clue.

The Verdict

A vegetarian food pub is a great idea, but the quality of the food at The Coach and Horses is flawed at best. Even if the cooking was more accomplished, the menu feels very retro and unimaginative with a lot of traditionally meat-based dishes but with the meat swapped out. Must try harder.

Name: The Coach and Horses

Address: 29 Greek Street, London W1D 5DH

Phone: 0207 437 5920

Web: http://coachandhorsessoho.co.uk

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday 11.00-23.30, Friday-Saturday 11.00-midnight and Sunday noon-22.30.

Reservations: yeah, if you want

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two: £15-20 approx.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

The Ivy’s sexier next door neighbour isn’t as good as it should’ve been

L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon is the closest thing to a fine dining chain with almost identically appointed branches in numerous cities around the globe including Las Vegas and London. The bar-style seating can be brutally uncomfortable though which makes La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon a much more appealing alternative. Situated on the first floor above the London branch of L’Atelier, La Cuisine has much more comfortable and more conventional seating in a compact dining room decorated to look like someone’s kitchen.

The decor and atmosphere may be warm, casual and inviting, but the food is unapologetically Modern European with attentive, knowledgeable service to match. The amuse bouche of foie gras topped with a parmesan foam isn’t as complex or as memorable as the much larger and somewhat similar starter sometimes available at Gauthier Soho, but it’s still a tasty way to start a meal. The rich and creamy flavours of the foie gras base and the parmesan foam complimented each other very well. The light wispiness of the foam may seem silly, but without it the dish wouldn’t have worked as well – the relatively heavy, viscous texture of parmesan in its usual form would have been too overwhelming.

The first foie gras of the meal.

The starter of caviar served on a bed of crab meat and lobster jelly may sound very rich, but it was a surprisingly insubstantial appetiser. The moist crab head meat was a refreshing counterpoint to the slightly oily, slightly salty caviar but the sliver of lobster claw meat in jelly was too small to leave much of an impression.

Le Caviar.

Foie gras popped up again in my main course, where it was stuffed inside quail and served alongside truffled mashed potatoes. The poultry was firm and hearty, but the very small amount of moderately rich foie gras was barely noticeable. The best thing about this dish was the rich, earthy and creamy mash.

Stuff this.

The dessert was all about chocolate. Served in an unusual gold gilded bowl, dark Madagascan chocolate was joined by a chocolate sorbet and ‘Oreo’ cookie crumb. The chocolate was smooth and very creamy but wasn’t as bittersweet as I expected. The bitterness came instead from the sorbet which wasn’t too icy and complimented the creaminess of the chocolate well while the ‘Oreo’ crumb had a subtle maltiness that was still nonetheless distinct and complimented the other elements nicely.

Chocolate x3.

Going back for seconds

I had very mixed feelings about my first meal at La Cuisine, so I had to go back for seconds. The amuse bouche was the same as before, but although I opted for a different starter, it still contained caviar. This time it was paired with a poached egg covered in a crisp rice shell and served with a salmon cream. The crispness of the rice shell contrasted nicely with the gooey runniness of the egg, while the salty caviar and the distinctly flavoured salmon cream added extra layers of richness. All of this made for a very satisfying start.

Eggs-ellent.

Black cod is often found with miso in Japanese restaurants, but here the tender and light fish was served in a mildly zesty, citrusy sauce that brought out the black cod’s natural fatty moreishness very well. Although this deceptively simple dish isn’t heavy, the handy hemispheres of crisp daikon radish were still a welcome palate cleanser.

It’s just a flesh wound.

I finished off my meal with the funky Le Bubble. A bauble-like sugar sphere topped with gold leaf broke apart to reveal a coffee-flavoured cream, salted caramel and lemon-marinated apple pieces in the middle. The crisp sugar shell can be discarded (it has a nasty habit of sticking to your upper gums if you try eating it), which is just as well as its sugary sweetness can overwhelm the muted flavours of this dessert which are too subtle for their own good. The textures are just right though – the wispiness of the coffee cream contrasts nicely with the crispness of the apple pieces. It’s just a shame the coffee cream and the fruit aren’t more boldly flavoured and the occasional bursts of salty caramel are few and far between.

Orbi et urbi.

Busting my bubble.

The Verdict

The quality of the food at La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon was erratic. At its best it can be very good indeed, but all too often it was merely average. I suspect this is due to the size of the menu which is large, sprawling and unfocussed by the standards of most other Modern European restaurants. All in all, this just isn’t good enough, not only because of the high prices, but also when accomplished competition such as Gauthier is a mere stone’s throw away. Must try harder.

Name: La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon

Address: 13-15 West Street, London WC2H 9NE

Phone: 020 7010 8600

Web: http://www.joelrobuchon.co.uk/first-floor

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday noon-15.00 and 17.30-23.00. Sunday noon-15.00 and 17.30-22.30

Reservations: essential

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and coffee: £75-100 approx.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Disclosure: The Picky Glutton was invited to review this restaurant and the meal in this review was prepaid for by the restaurant in the form of an unsolicited voucher.

As a general rule I’m not fond of eating out at chain restaurants in London. With so many interesting independents to choose from in the capital, picking a chain, especially one of the big national or multinational behemoths which can be found almost anywhere else in the country, seems like a wasted opportunity. It’s not a hard and fast rule though and every once in a while I come across a chain that I like – Rossopomodoro is one of them.

Rossopomodoro has just six branches in London with an outpost in Birmingham. I visited the Covent Garden branch, the site of the old Gili Gulu kaiten sushi buffet restaurant, with Wicket in tow. The place is moodily lit with a kitchen-like appearance to it, while the service was polite and efficient.

Wicket started off with the Parmigiana, which could be described as an Italian moussaka if you’re a culinary reductionist. A large heap of aubergines, which hadn’t been overcooked so they weren’t too mushy, was topped with a creamy, oozing layer of mozzarella that added a light smokiness to the dish.

Potted Parmigiana photo.

I went for a platter of cured meats as my starter. The chorizo-esque salami was forgettable, but the nutty and earthy bresaola and fatty, delicate parma ham hit the spot nicely.

All aboard.

Wicket was clearly intent on having an aubergine bender, as eggplant turned up again on his Verduretta pizza. The standout topping on this pizza was the seared courgettes though. Their charred creaminess was complimented well by the sweet and vibrant tomato sauce as well as the sweet creaminess of the mozzarella.

Aubergine bender continues.

My Carmelo pizza used the same base as the Verduretta – a lightly crisp crust giving way to a softer, floppier center. It’s not quite as fluffy, light and sweet as the bases used at Franco Manca, nor is it as firm as the ones used by Pizza Pilgrims, but it’s still a good, evenly cooked foundation for the various toppings. My pizza was a touch greasy, but the fennel-flecked flavours of the sausage melded well with the bitterness of the rapini broccoli. The absence of tomato sauce, making this a bianca pizza, allowed the light smokiness of the mozzarella to shine through.

Sausage-fest.

Both Wicket and I opted for the Pastiera for dessert. This cake almost resembled a cheesecake in its moistness, while bits of candied orange added a sweet, zesty flavour.

Pastiera for postres please.

Some of the most distinctive items on Rossopomodoro’s menu are the soft drinks. There’s our old favourite, the limonata. This Italian lemonade is zingy without being excessively sweet or overly sour. Even better is the Chinotto Lurisia, a soft drink made from the fruit of the myrtle-leaved orange tree. The bitter, sour and refreshing taste is somehow reminiscent of grapefruit, candy floss and liquorice all at the same time.

LIke lemonade, love limonata.

Where have you been all my life?

The Verdict

Rossopomodoro may not be the trendiest pizza place in London, but it’s still surprisingly good with some interesting desserts, starters and soft drinks to compliment the tastefully prepared pies.

Name: Rossopomodoro

Branch tried: 50 – 52 Monmouth Street, London WC2H 9EP

Phone: 0207 240 9095

Web: http://rossopomodoro.co.uk/restaurant/covent-garden/

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday noon-23.00. Friday-Saturday noon-23.30 and Sunday noon-22.00.

Reservations: probably a good idea

Total cost for one person including soft drinks when shared between two people: £30 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

And some of the worst too

For many Londoners burritos are nothing more than a mildly exotic rice sandwich – a lunchtime filler to help them get through the working day. Most will devote little thought into choosing one; the idea of travelling to find the best burrito in the capital would be as alien and incomprehensible as hunting out the best egg and cress sandwich. This is a real shame as burritos, and its close relation the taco, are among the most misrepresented ‘ethnic’ dishes in London – the vast majority are average at best, with only a few worthy of praise.

Following my review of Death by Burrito, frequent dining companion The Euro Hedgie challenged me to to find the best burritos in London. There’s much more to Mexican cuisine than burritos and tacos of course – good huevos rancheros, empanadas, moles and tamales, to name but a few dishes, are even harder to find than a good burrito. Nonetheless, it was the humble burrito and taco that got me addicted to Mexican food in the first place.

If you just want to get straight to the reviews, or even right down to The Winners, then feel free to skip this introduction where I explain what makes a good burrito and taco for me.

Building a better burrito

Burritos may be the equivalent of a sandwich, but that’s no excuse for having a bad one. A burrito should consist of a hearty, flavoursome meat filling, a hot spicy sauce and a zesty, coarsely ground guacamole to balance out the spiciness. Rice is, as I understand it, a relatively recent American addition with more authentic Mexican burritos omitting it. If rice is going to be present in a burrito, then the ratio between meat and rice should be in favour of the meat.

Burritos almost always come with a choice of beans – black turtle beans or mashed, refried pinto beans. The former should be salty, the latter should creamy and nutty and both should be hearty and not too soft or mushy. I’m not a fan of either cheese or sour cream in my burritos, so I usually order without them. All of this should be tightly wrapped in a tortilla with little to no leakage. A burrito shouldn’t be served ‘wet’, i.e. topped with a mixture of tomato sauce and cheese as is common in godawful Tex-Mex restaurants. If I wanted a bastardised enchilada, then I’d order one.

Tacos

Despite their initial similarities, tacos are a different kettle of fish altogether. Burritos use wheat flour tortillas, whereas a good taco should use a corn flour tortilla instead. Corn flour tortillas, as I understand it, are difficult if not impossible to make in sizes above four or five inches in diameter – any bigger and the thin membrane falls apart which is why all burritos use 12 inch wheat flour tortillas. Corn flour tortillas have a slightly more uneven thickness but a fluffier texture than a wheat flour tortilla. They should have a distinctive nutty taste, further setting them apart, so any taco that uses a wheat flour tortilla is but a pale imitation. Any taco that uses a hard shell tortilla, which obscures and brutalises the taste and texture of the filling, earns my instant disdain.

Some of the eateries reviewed here treat tacos as nothing more than miniature burritos, overstuffing them with the same fillings as a burrito. This is a mistake – less is more when it comes to tacos. What fillings there are should be carefully chosen allowing them to shine through – meat, a garnish, perhaps some sauce and that’s it.

Having said all of that, I’m not above trying some of the quirkier, more gimmicky burritos and tacos available in London.

Meat-iple choice

Pork is my meat of choice when it comes to burritos and tacos, although I can be persuaded to nosh on chicken, beef and chorizo as well. Pork is often derided by some as an inferior, less flavoursome meat but the right cut from the right pig in the right hands can be a thing of beauty.

Postres

Despite my best efforts, one cannot survive on burritos and tacos alone. Horchata, a soft drink made from rice and cinnamon, can be a starchy but very refreshing thirst quencher. It’s a perfect way to wash down all that meat and carbs as long as the drink isn’t too heavily overloaded with cinnamon.

Sweet tamales, where corn meal and fruit are steamed together while wrapped in a corn husk, are hard to come by. A good alternative dessert are churros – deep fried dough sticks, dusted with sugar and cinnamon and served with either chocolate sauce or cajeta, a dipping sauce somewhat similar to caramel or dulce de leche. A crisp exterior should give way to a soft, fluffy interior that’s free of excess oil.

When and where

Over the past four months I’ve endeavoured to eat at every restaurant and market stall serving burritos and tacos that I can find in London. This includes lunch places, which are primarily open at lunchtime catering to office workers, although some do stay open into the evening.

A special exception had to be made for Tex-Mex restaurants. Every Tex-Mex restaurant I’ve ever been to has been unspeakably awful. Their continued existence gives Mexican food a bad name in Britain and probably explains Richard Hammond’s bigoted comments about Mexican food in that episode of Top Gear (you know the one I mean). They can’t be ignored entirely though and I squeezed in visits to a few Tex-Mex restaurants that I managed to randomly stumble across London.

Without further ado…

Table of Contents (click a link to jump straight to a specific review)

Restaurants

Boho Mexica

Cafe Chula

Cantina Laredo

Crazy Homies

El Camion

La Bodega Negra

La Perla

Lupita

Mestizo

Santo

Taqueria

Wahaca

Lunch places

1910

Adobo

Benito’s Hat

Burrito Bros

Burrito Cafe

Burro Burrito

Chilango

Chimi’s

Chipotle

El Burrito

El Mexicana

Flying Burrito

La Catrina

Mexway

Picante Grill

Poncho No 8

Tortilla

Market stalls and food trucks

Ambriento

Buen Provecho

Daddy Donkey

Freebird

Kimchinary

Luardos

Santana Grill

Taco Stand

Take-aways

Amigos

Bar Burrito

Mexican Express

Mi Casa

Tacolisa

Wrap It Up

Miscellaneous

L’Autre

Barrio Central

Bombay Burrito

Cafe Bebek

Comboco

The Diner

Mildred’s

Robin Hood

Tacuba

Whole Foods

Tex-Mex restaurants

Cafe Mexicali

Chico Bandito

Chiquito

Desperados N1

El Paso (Hoxton)

Loco Mexicano

The Winners

Restaurants

Boho Mexica

Boho Mexica has a bad rep, but I honestly can’t fathom why. The horchata is pretty good for starters – milky, a touch creamy and sweet with only a light dusting of cinnamon for flavour.

horchata at Boho Mexica

Boho Mexica doesn’t serve up burritos, but it does have plenty of tacos all of which use fluffy corn flour tortillas. The unusual sea bass option sees some slightly smoky, tangy fish topped by a surprisingly sauerkraut-esque coleslaw that’s citrusy and sharp and not too heavy so it doesn’t overpower the taste of the sea bass.

sea bass tacos at Boho Mexica

The shrimp tacos use sweet, meaty prawns that have a tomato-ish taste to them that’s complimented nicely by the sharp acidity of the pickled red cabbage. There was quite a lot of spillage though with a substantial amount of the oily, slightly smoky sauce dribbling out onto the plate.

prawn tacos at Boho Mexica

Sadly, the most disappointing of the tacos I tried were the ones filled with ‘Mayan-style’ braised pork. Although sweet and slightly spicy, the meat lacked the tangy moreishness I was expecting. The sweet, sharp pickled onion garnish made up for this to some extent though.

braised pork tacos at Boho Mexica

Sadly the tre leches cake was unavailable on the weekday evening of my visit, so I opted for the corn on the cob instead. Having corn on the cob as a dessert is unusual from an European perspective and it’s expensive for what it is at £4.50. Having said that, it was still an interesting dish. The tender kernels were topped with a silky sheen of creamy mayonnaise, some sharp, slightly sour cheese shavings and a squirt of sharp, zesty lime juice. The scattering of chilli powder was muted though. Overall, it’s similar in taste to tinned creamed corn, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

corn on the cob dessert at Boho Mexica

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Cafe Chula

Located in Camden Lock Place with a view of the water, Cafe Chula is an irritating place to eat. Seating is uncomfortable and cramped, opening hours are erratic, the horchata was unavailable and service was rushed on my weekday evening visit. Although Chula is a no-burrito joint, all the tacos used nutty, fluffy corn tortillas. The chicken tacos used an annoyingly bitty, textureless mush for meat, but at least the earthy, tingly sauce was flavoursome.

chicken tacos at Cafe Chula

The pork al pastor tacos were far better. The moist chunks of smoky pork were topped with a fruity, zesty pineapple sauce that meshed nicely with the tingly spiciness of the relish.

pork al pastor tacos at Cafe Chula

The prawn tacos were surprisingly good. Although a touch small, the crustaceans were firm and fresh with a musky flavour that was complimented rather than overwhelmed by the chunky guacamole.

prawn tacos at Cafe Chula

The only major disappointment of my meal was the tre leches cake. Although the sponge was reasonably moist, it wasn’t as airy and fluffy as versions available elsewhere. It was topped by dry, desiccated, flavourless coconut rather than the evaporated, condensed and whole milks used elsewhere. This made for rather dry, tough eating.

coconut sponge cake at Cafe Chula

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £8

Cantina Laredo

Located in Covent Garden, this restaurant is the only British branch of an American chain. On both of my visits the place was packed to the rafters with unimaginative Yankee tourists. On my first visit I went slightly off-piste and started off with a ceviche. Except tossing flavourless flecks of salmon and cooked shrimp in lime juice, topping it with sweet corn and cheese and then serving it in a hard tortilla shell doesn’t count as a ceviche. A war crime against my stomach perhaps, but not a ceviche.

Vom.

I should’ve known better than to have ordered the chicken enchilada following the dismal ceviche, but the alleged presence of a chocolate mole piqued my interest – very few Mexican restaurants serve dishes with moles. Sadly the bone dry chicken-filled tortilla tubes were topped with an excessively sweet sauce that lacked the depth of flavour of a real mole.

What was I thinking?

The churros were unavailable on my first visit, so I opted for the flan instead – a sort of Mexican creme caramel. Except the dessert that arrived on my table wasn’t a delicately soft flan but resembled a stodgy cheesecake instead.

What the blazes is this?

I really didn’t want to return to Cantina Laredo, but I was obligated to do so having failed to have any tacos the first time around. The pork tacos started out well with thick, nutty corn flour tortillas, but each one was stuffed to the point of overflowing. The small, stewed chunks of pig were smothered under a torrent of pineapple chunks, onions, coriander and bell pepper pieces. The overwhelming tastes were of sugary sweetness and crunchy pepperiness rather than a moreish mix of fruity acidity and meaty moreishness. In other words, these pork tacos were crap.

I’m doing this all for you.

The churros were even worse. The excessively soft tubes of pastry tasted stale and were hollow in the centre. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were yum yums rescued from a supermarket skip. Even the cajeta was rubbish – it was more like a watery milk chocolate drink than a caramel-ish dipping sauce.

Now you’re just taking the piss.

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £14

El Camion

I wasn’t expecting much from the colourfully decorated El Camion and the sour mood of the grumpy waitress did little to reassure me. The pork burrito was sloppily wrapped, but it’s clearly meant to be eaten with a knife and fork rather than with one’s hands given its appearance with a side serving of vinegarish salad and tomato rice. I wasn’t pleased by the presence of sour cream daubed on the meat despite my request to exclude it, but the pork was surprisingly good. The hearty serving of pig was dense and fatty with a gentle woody flavour to it while the pinto beans were firm. No sauces were applied, with bottled sauces provided on each table instead.

pork burrito at El Camion

Sadly the tacos used wheat flour tortillas. The fillings weren’t terribly impressive either. The pork tacos used mildly spicy, tender strands of pork but it was hard to make out as it was buried underneath some mediocre tomato salsa and a bland, smooth guacamole.

El Camion pork tacos

pork tacos at El Camion

The fish tacos used meaty, moist chunks of tilapia, but as before, the smothering of salsa and guacamole made them hard to appreciate. The chorizo tacos were the best of the lot, but that’s damning with faint praise. Although meaty and mildly salty, the chorizo slices weren’t especially fatty and ultimately forgettable.

Sorry folks, forgot to take photos of the tilapia tacos. Here are some chorizo tacos instead.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.50

Average price per burrito: £8

Crazy Homies

Crazy Homies reminds me of a student flat – colourful, friendly but goosebumpingly cold due to the lack of heating. The savoury menu has some interesting seafood options such as the scallop tacos. Although big and meaty, the scallops lack the distinctive zing I’d expect from that shellfish. The sweet corn and excessively soft black bean topping don’t really suit the scallops either. Although corn tortillas are used, they were warmed over a little longer than they should have been. This resulted in a rather inflexible, slightly crisp membrane that was prone to breaking.

scallop tacos at Crazy Homies

Mahi Mahi, a tuna-like fish not often seen in Europe, turned up in my burrito. The generous helping of dense and moist fish outnumbered the rice although the zesty dressing was oddly inconsistent – bold in places, muted in others. It also needed a little something extra – perhaps firmer, saltier black turtle beans. Although I opted to have it dry, the burrito still came with the guacamole and sour cream on top rather than on the side. Still, at least the guacamole was chunky and citrusy.

burrito at Crazy Homies

mahi mahi burrito at Crazy Homies

The pork used in the pig tacos was a little dry, but the firm and dense meat was still pleasing to the mouth. A tingly, earthy spicy sauce was very flavoursome, but there wasn’t enough of it. There was plenty of the same nicely made guacamole that accompanied the burrito, but these tacos also used the same troublesome tortillas as the scallop tacos.

pork tacos at Crazy Homies

Although the churros were a touch too oily and seemingly dusted with caster sugar rather than brown sugar or cinnamon, the dough sticks were very buttery with a crisp exterior and a delightfully fluffy interior. The accompanying bitter chocolate dipping sauce was bizarre though. I like bitter chocolate, but the sauce here was also inedibly acidic.

churros at Crazy Homies

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7-12

Average price per burrito: £11

La Bodega Negra

I’ve visited both the upstairs diner and downstairs restaurant at La Bodega Negra before. This time around I visited the upstairs diner and sampled some corn flour tacos from their burrito-less menu. My favourite had to be the chorizo and potato tacos where salty, fatty, soft ndjua-style chorizo was complimented nicely by starchy bits of potato.

chorizo and potato tacos at La Bodega Negra

The pork al pastor tacos came a close second. The woody, slightly smoky meat worked well with the smooth sweetness of the pineapple bits.

pork al pastor tacos at La Bodega Negra

One of my favourite tacos at La Bodega Negra from my previous visits were the prawn variety. Sadly the prawns are no longer quivering and just-cooked, but cooked through and a touch stodgy. They are meaty and fresh though and while the pickled onions left me non-plussed, the zesty, slightly smoky dressing made up for it. Sadly the lamb tacos, while tender, were bland.

prawn tacos at La Bodega Negra

lamb tacos at La Bodega Negra

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

La Perla/Cafe Pacifico

La Perla is a small but multinational chain with restaurants and bars located in Covent Garden, Paris and Sydney. I’ve included the Covent Garden branch here with all the other ‘real’ Mexican restaurants, but its expansive menu resembles a Tex-Mex menu in some respects too.

All of the tacos use corn flour tortillas and, no matter the filling, all are garnished with onion and coriander and served with a selection of sauces on the side. A fairly zesty green coloured sauce is joined by a fairly strong chilli and garlic sauce. There’s also a small salad of nutty beans and sweet, crisp celery.

The best of the taco fillings was the prawn – fresh, firm and just cooked, each little crustacean was quivering and juicy. The same couldn’t be said for the poultry options – both the chicken and duck were very dry. The excessively soft duck was almost mistaken for  pork or chicken – it was that anonymous. The separate shredded chicken option was a flavourless mush.

prawn taco at La Perla

Duck taco at La Perla. I ate the chicken taco before I could photograph it.

Despite being cooked medium rare the steak filling was also dry and characterless, while the shredded beef option was a bit too salty.

beef taco at La Perla

If the tacos were ultimately underwhelming, the chicken burrito was positively bad. Served wet with a vaguely tomato and coriander flavoured sauce, this was an ultimately bland burrito despite the best efforts of the unwanted dollops of sour cream and the creamy, slightly spicy guacamole. The moist, but bland shreds of chicken filling were forgettable while the rice had probably been tipped out of an Uncle Ben’s packet. At least the black turtle beans were mildly tangy, but if the beans are the best thing about a burrito, then something has gone very wrong.

chicken burrito at La Perla

The chicken inside the chicken burrito at La Perla.

Given the less than stellar savoury dishes, I wasn’t expecting much from the churros but the dessert was surprisingly inoffensive. Each dough stick was very crisp and free of excess oil, although none were particularly flavoursome or fluffy on the inside and lacked the attractive golden colour of the very best churros. Oddly, the churros was served with an anonymous blob of budget chocolate ice cream rather than a chocolate dipping sauce.

churros at La Perla

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £13

Average price per burrito: £11

Lupita

Lupita has a branch near Spitalfields, but I ended up paying a few lunchtime visits to the Charing Cross branch instead. All of the tacos used corn flour tortillas, but while somewhat lacking in the taste department they were thicker and heartier than usual. This made them better at holding in all the fillings.

The crustacean meat in the prawn tacos was inconsistent – some prawns were firm and fresh while others were distinctly underwhelming. Surprisingly, the sweet and creamy melted cheese complimented the mildly zesty dressing nicely.

prawn tacos at Lupita

The chorizo used in the chorizo and potato tacos is far from the best chorizo you’ll ever have, but the fatty chunks of sausage are still very satisfying – especially when taken with a dollop of tender potato. The tender, zesty strands of pork used in the pork pibli tacos also hit the bill.

chorizo and potato tacos at Lupita

pibil pork tacos at Lupita

None could compare to the cactus tacos though. The soft and tender chunks of vegetable were juicy, somewhat citrusy and had an unexpected but pleasing aloe vera-esque flavour. It was all very refreshing which contrasted nicely with the surprisingly hot salsa.

cactus tacos at Lupita

Lupita’s pork burrito has the benefit of some good quality meat, but needs some punchier flavours to go along with it. The loosely wrapped, rectangular package is best eaten with cutlery than hands. The pork filling has a firm bite that gives way to a fruity, juicy center. There was more pork than rice, while the the creme fraiche was refreshing and a welcome change from the usual cloying heaviness of sour cream. There was minimal guacamole though and the vaunted chipotle mayonnaise only had a very mild amount of heat.

burrito at Lupita

pork burrito at Lupita

You’ll need a better drink than the horchata to wash it all down. An excessive amount of cinnamon was used in an attempt to disguise the wateriness of this drink, but the overuse of the spice also impaired refreshment.

horchata at Lupita

Although slightly chewy on the outside and only mildly fluffy on the inside, Lupita’s churros are buttery, free of excess oil and generously dusted with cinnamon. The thick, moderately sweet cameral-esque cajeta is a better bet than the forgettable chocolate sauce though – the latter is, at best, mildly malty.

churros without sauce at Lupita

churros with chocolate sauce at Lupita

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Average price per burrito: £10

Mestizo

Mestizo leaves burritos to its spin-off El Burrito, concentrating on other dishes including tacos. Although the corn tortillas used here only had a muted nuttiness, that’s the only fault I can raise against the tacos here. The pork pibil variety benefits from zesty, fruity stands of tender pig.

pork pibil tacos at Mestizo

Even better are the pollo con mole tacos. The chicken itself may be rather forgettable, but the earthy, nutty, slightly bitter mole had great depth of flavour. This sauce was enhanced and complimented by a sour cream that looks more like cottage cheese. It’s still tart and creamy, but not as heavy or cloying as the sour creams I’m used to and has a firm bite too.

pollo con mole tacos at Mestizo

The vegetarian cactus option is no poor relation. The sweet, juicy slithers of cactus are best described as a cross between melon, bell peppers and cucumbers in terms of taste and texture. They’re neither too soft nor too firm.

cactus tacos at Mestizo

The horchata was a milky, starchy delight with only a slight hint of cinnamon.

horchata at Mestizo

Mestizo is one of the few places in London that serves up sweet tamales. Served as a pair, the first smooth mash was nutty and mildly sweetened while the second was fruitier thanks to its flecks of raisin.

sweet tamales at Mestizo

Rating: ★★★★★

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.50

Santo

The burritos at this restaurant near Portobello Market are smaller than usual, but no less interesting. The pork variety is a touch too dry for my taste, but it’s also hearty and slightly offaly with a tender, slightly bitty texture reminiscent of ham hock. There’s an even balance between the pork and the rice, while the sweet, crisp vegetables were a refreshing touch. The tortilla was watertight with no spillage whatsoever.

Although I’m not usually a fan of sour cream, the slightly tart version used here isn’t too runny or heavy and is essential if you choose to dress the burrito with the extra spicy sauce which packs one hell of a wallop. Probably made from jalapeños or scotch bonnet peppers rather than bird’s eye chillies, the extra spicy sauce is initially fruity and tingly at first, eventually giving way to heat sweats, tears and a burning sensation on the tongue. Excellent.

pork burrito at Santo

Although the king prawn burrito used the same perfectly wrapped tortilla as the pork version, it otherwise couldn’t have been more different. Although the crustaceans are rather small, they are firm and complimented well by the smooth but zesty and slightly salty guacamole. There’s a slight hint of olives, but most of the flavour here comes from the beans which are dressed in a very flavoursome, chocolate-like sauce.

king prawn burrito at Santo

Of the two taco varieties I tried, the ox cheek version is easily my favourite. The dense, yet tender meat has a musky earthiness that is simply delicious. It’s topped with just onions and coriander, which was all that was needed. Perfect.

ox cheek tacos at Santo

Santo’s cactus tacos weren’t quite as show stopping as the ones at Mestizo, but they’re still very good. The moist, squidgy, sweet vegetable slithers were complimented nicely by a thin, but sweet and milky cream. Both the ox cheek and the cactus tacos used fluffy, mildly nutty corn tortillas.

cactus tacos at Santo

Compared to the extensive savoury menu, the short dessert menu feels like an after thought. The only dessert that caught my attention was the chocolate cake which had a nutty, malty taste to it. Not very chocolatey, but still pleasing, especially as it melted on the tongue. The slightly tart flakes of milk ice cream added a much needed refreshing touch.

To top it all, Santo easily has the warmest, friendliest, most welcoming service of any Mexican restaurant I’ve been to in London.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7.50

Average price per burrito: £12

Taqueria

Taqueria is located deep within the wilds of Notting Hill and, as it name suggests, concentrates mostly on tacos. The pork belly tacos weren’t as fatty as I had hoped. Their texture was also a little inconsistent, with some chunks of meat soft and tender, while others were a little firmer. The crisp tart cabbage provided a good contrast in texture, but the dominant flavour here was of the sweet, fruity sauce rather than the pork itself.

pork belly tacos at Taqueria

Although the prawns used in the prawn tacos were forgettable, the contrast between the cool, creamy guacamole and the tingly, spicy chipotle made up for this to some extent.

prawn tacos at Taqueria

The chorizo and cheese tacos were visual oddities. Here the lean, beef-like bits of chorizo were enveloped in an omelette-like cheese jacket. The entire thing was then wrapped inside the nutty corn flour tortilla. Although hearty and unusual, these tacos were ultimately rather stodgy and didn’t quite work due to the rather bland cheese and chorizo.

chorizo with cheese tacos at Taqueria

Taqueria’s churros were a bit too crunchy for my liking, but the pastry was at least buttery and there was a generous dusting of cinnamon. The cajeta is pretty good though – milky, tangy and sweet. It’s almost too good for the imperfect churros.

churros with cajeta at Taqueria

Taqueria’s horchata was a bit watery with the starchy and cinnamon elements toned down in favour of more milkiness, but it was still a refreshing and tasty drink.

horchata at Taqueria

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Wahaca

The pork pibli tacos used to be the stand out, must-have signature dish at Wahaca, but standards have dropped as this chain has expanded beyond its original Covent Garden location. The version served up at the Wardour Street Soho branch used fluffy corn flour tortillas, although their nuttiness was muted at best. The moist strands of pork were firm and lightly smoky, but it took a back seat to the sharp and sour pickled onions and the fresh coriander. The marinade coating the meat left me non-plussed, but at least the spicy sauce had some kick to it, numbing my lips.

pibil pork tacos at Wahaca

Wahaca’s chicken tinga burrito had a rice-meat balance slightly in favour of the zesty rice. The moist stands of poultry are accompanied by some earthy turtle beans and a tingly, moderately spicy sauce. The lightly baked tortilla is prone to cracking though, leading to some unwanted content spillage. A competent, if unexceptional burrito.

chicken burrito at Wahaca

The horchata was watery and tasted mostly of cinnamon.

horchata at Wahaca

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4

Average price per burrito: £7

Lunch places

1910

Locating 1910 deep within the bowels of the Westfield shopping centre near Shepherd’s Bush can be tricky if you have a poor sense of direction. It’s downright impossible if you rely on the centre’s touchscreen maps which are woefully inaccurate. Although it’s open well into the evening, having dinner in a shopping centre made me feel dirty and it’s not something I want to repeat.

Having said that, the food is surprisingly decent. The fluffy corn flour tortillas used in the tacos are distinctively nutty, but they can become very soggy from both the tomatoes and lettuce, as well as the mildly tingly hot sauce. The pork filling is moist with a vague hint of smokiness but was otherwise rather anonymous. The beef is better – dense, earthy with a mild degree of spicy heat although it’s rather dry.

pork taco at 1910

beef taco at 1910

The chicken burrito was tightly wrapped with an even proportion of meat and rice. However, although the chicken was moist it was rather tasteless apart from a small initial hit of saltiness. The smooth guacamole and excessively soft black beans were also unremarkable, while the hot sauce was only mildly tingly.

chicken burrito at 1910

It’s only really worth eating at 1910 if you’re desperately craving a burrito while shopping at Westfield and even then I’d thick twice.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: ?

Average price per burrito: ?

Adobo

Adobo feels like a chain, but there’s actually just one location on High Holborn. Adobo’s tacos were, on the whole, a limp effort. The wheat flour tortillas can be filled with either pork or beef, but both were bland and were only palatable due to a coating of mildly fruity sauce. The excessively soft pork tacos were especially moist with sauce, but this had a nasty habit of soaking the tortilla, causing it to fall apart.

pork taco at Adobo

beef taco at Adobo

The best of the taco fillings that I had was the chicken. The grilled poultry was a little too dry, but it did have a slightly earthy muskiness to it.

chicken taco at Adobo

The most interesting thing about Adobo’s pork burrito was the option to have a whole wheat burrito which added an extra layer of heartiness to the whole thing. The wrapping was rather sloppy though and the tortilla ended up bursting, spilling mildly spicy hot sauce and meat everywhere. The pork filing used here was dense and moist but otherwise unremarkable. At least there were roughly equal amounts of rice and meat. The addition of salty chorizo and the creamy, chunky guacamole livened things up considerably, but the fried pinto beans were a little too mushy for my liking.

pork burrito at Adobo

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Benito’s Hat

I’ve rated Benito’s Hat quite highly before, but the Fitzrovia branch of this small chain faces increased competition in this round up. Having said that, it can still cook up some good grub. The pork burrito was filled with frim, juicy meat that hadn’t been overcooked to the point of mushiness, while the spicy tabasco-based sauce and pickled jalapeños added some real kick. There was more meat than rice too, so this burrito didn’t leave me feeling too bloated. The fly in the ointment was the sloppy tortilla wrapping – filling leakage was a real problem.

pork burrito at Benito’s Hat

Some of the seasonal specials can be disappointing though. The current (at the time of writing) pork and cactus burrito was filled with more rice than either pork or cactus. What there was of it was pretty good – firm and moist pork joined by juicy, sweet slivers of cactus. There was minimal guacamole, allowing the zesty, tingly mildly spicy hot sauce to dominate. The wrapping this time around was better with only a little leakage.

pork and cactus burrito at Benito’s Hat

Disappointingly, the tacos used wheat flour tortillas but at least the filling of braised chicken was better. Moist, mildly smoky strands of chicken managed to retain their flavour despite being buried underneath an avalanche of smooth, creamy guacamole and refrigerated lettuce and tomato, no doubt helped by the punchy chilli sauce and fresh coriander.

chicken tacos at Benito’s Hat

The serving of horchata was a bit on the small side, but despite a heavy dose of cinnamon it still retained its sweet, mildly starchy milkiness.

horchata at Benito’s Hat

Some of the best things on the menu at Benito’s Hat are the desserts, such as the tres leches cake. The ridiculously moist and airy sponge was slathered in a thin, yet somehow very creamy and sweet mixture of condensed, whole and evaporated milk. Immensely satisfying.

tres leche cake at Benito’s Hat

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £3

Average price per burrito: £7

Burrito Bros

Located in the wilds for Farringdon not far from a branch of Workshop Coffee, this small cafe is split over two small floors. Annoyingly the tacos use hard shell corn tortillas, although there wasn’t much taste for them to hide. The dry and flavourless chicken desperately needed as much hot sauce as I could handle. The pre-applied hot sauce was very mild though with a subtly fruity sweetness to it. It was hard to make out too given the copious amounts of cheese and sour cream that I didn’t want.

chicken taco at Burrito Bros

The pork burrito did little to lift my spirits. Although tightly wrapped, the dry shreds of pork had only a very mild smokiness, the smooth guacamole was bland and the hot sauce was extremely mild. Plus there was more rice than meat.

pork burrito at Burrito Bros

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Burrito Cafe

You’d never find the King’s Cross branch of this small two-outlet chain unless you were deliberately looking for it. Given the quality of the pork burrito, there’s no need to look for it either. Although tender, the pork filling was so anonymous that it could have been almost any other meat. The mushy guacamole was tasteless and the hot sauce was mildly tingly at best. There was slightly more rice than meat, but at least the rice actually tasted of something – zesty lime and coriander to be precise. The tortilla was wrapped fairly well, with only a small amount of leakage.

pork burrito at Burrito Cafe

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Burro Burrito

Unlike all of the other lunch places reviewed here, the underground Burro Burrito doesn’t use the typical conveyor belt system where the burrito is assembled to order before your eyes. Instead, place your order, hand over your payment and find a table. The food is then brought to you.

Burro’s tacos didn’t fare well. The wheat flour tortillas were a let down and the dense, hearty beef chipotle filling had a subtly sweet, smoky, nutty flavour that faded far too quickly after the first bite. It didn’t help that the beef had been accompanied by sour cream, chilled vegetables and shavings of what I swear was Red Leicester cheese.

beef taco at Burro Burrito

Swapping the beef for pork and apple didn’t help. The dense threads of pig had a sweet, fruity tinge but this was quickly lost amongst all the chaff.

pork and apple tacos at Burro Burrito

I was surprised to find that there was more chorizo than chicken in my dual meat burrito. The chicken was rather dry, while the chorizo was mildly salty but not especially fatty. Guacamole was entirely absent, the bland black beans were mushy and an annoyingly large amount of Red Leicester cheese was present. The hastily wrapped tortilla meant there was inevitably some spillage. The oddest thing about this burrito was the excessive sugary sweetness that was very out of place.

chicken and chorizo burrito at Burro Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4-6

Average price per burrito: £6

Chilango

Chilango is one of The Euro Hedgie’s favourite places to grab a lunchtime burrito and it’s not hard to see why. The pork burrito at both the Chancery Lane and Islington branches uses fatty, tender pieces of pork belly. There’s no crisp crackling, which would be too much to expect, but this is still nonetheless one of most satisfying pig fillings in a burrito that I’ve come across. The black beans left me non-plussed, the hot sauce was more tart and vinegarish than spicy and the burrito as a whole is on the small side. Still, the ratio of rice and meat was roughly equal and the smooth guacamole was very creamy.

pork belly burrito at Chilango

The pork belly was even better in the tacos at the Islington branch. The crisp, fatty, lightly caramelised chunks of pig went down a treat when paired with the face numbingly hot spicy sauce – a dab of refreshing sour cream would’ve been a good idea. The beef tacos were very good too – moist chunks of cow with a surprisingly woody, grassy taste. The only sour note was the wheat flour tortillas.

pork belly and beef tacos at Chilango

Chilango is one of the few places I’ve visited to offer a prawn burrito and while it’s not bad, it unsurprisingly can’t quite match the fatty eloquence of of the pork belly version. Although the portion of firm and slightly smoky prawns was reasonably generous, it was still outweighed by the rice. A touch of sweetness came from the grilled, slightly squishy peppers and onions, the smooth creamy guacamole and the rosé-coloured cream. Overall though, it tasted a little on the bland side.

prawn burrito at Chilango

Horchata isn’t available, but a good substitute is a fizzy Mexican soft drink called Jarritos. The mandarin flavour is my favourite since it tastes like a fizzy version of Calpol (we all have our guilty pleasures).

Rating:  ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Chimi’s

Chimi’s may appear to be a scrappy young upstart, but it’s actually owned by the same company behind the Prezzo chain of Italian restaurants. No matter who owns this Tottenham Court Road diner, the pork burrito wasn’t very impressive. The soft mushy pork was dressed in a sweet, slightly smoky BBQ-style sauce that had probably been squeezed out of a bottle. There was some mildly hot, tingly spicy sauce, but little guacamole with most of the flavour coming from the sweetness of the sautéed bell peppers and onions. Although there was roughly equal servings of rice and meat, this was a rather small burrito that was sloppily, flimsily wrapped.

A pork burrito from Chimi’s.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Chipotle

Like Cantina Laredo, Chipotle is a US-based chain. Unlike Cantina Lardo, Chipotle has more than just one branch in London – mostly because it’s not as unremittingly awful as its more upmarket rival. That’s not to say that it’s perfect however – the pork burrito at the Wardour Street Soho branch used fatty, slightly fruity sweet chunks of pig but there was far more rice than pork. At least the rice itself was fluffy, large-grained and moderately zesty. The sloppy, leaky wrapping, bland guacamole and unremarkable pinto beans stewed with pork left me unimpressed though.

pork burrito at Chipotle

The spicy sauce used in the pork burrito was very tame, but it had clearly been reformulated when I returned to try out the tacos. It was far more fiery, packing quite a punch. The pork was oddly different though – far leaner with a zestier tinge to it. The chicken filling was moist and herby, but the beef was very dry and tough and only just edible. Sadly, all of the tacos used wheat flour tortillas and the staff will offer to stuff each taco with every filling at their disposable unless you stop them.

pork taco at Chipotle

chicken taco at Chipotle

beef taco at Chipotle

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Average price per burrito: £7

El Burrito

El Burrito is a small take-away and diner spin-off of Mestizo, a restaurant which otherwise doesn’t serve burritos at all. El Burrito’s burritos are noticeably smaller than any of the others reviewed in this round-up, so you may need two. This is largely due to the significantly reduced rice content, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing as the kitchen have concentrated instead on some quality fillings.

The shredded chicken in the chicken burrito, for example, is coated in a sweet, musky mole sauce that’s full of flavour. It’s not quite as complex as the exceptional mole used in the chicken tacos at Mestizo, but it’s still very satisfying. The tart, fiery jalapeños, fresh, crisp vegetables, tightly-wrapped tortilla and tear-inducing hot sauce are all to be lauded too.

chicken mole burrito at El Burrito

The cochinita pork filling isn’t quite as successful as the chicken mole, but it’s still quite good with moist chunks of tangy and mildly sweet pork. The hot sauce wasn’t quite as potent as before, but it was still fiery.

cochinita pork burrito at El Burrito

A good way of combatting the hot sweats brought on by the fiery hot sauce is to down a cup of the horchata. Milky, starchy and refreshing, my only complaint is that the serving is a bit too small and stingy.

horchata at El Burrito

El Burrito has a selection of tacos available at dinner time, but they’re not as accomplished as the ones available at Mestizo. The fish tacos used crisp, battered chunks of anonymous white fish, although they are at least free of excess oil. The mixed vegetable tacos filled with celery, peppers, courgettes, mushrooms and carrots was competently done, but didn’t present any surprises and tasted exactly as you’d expect.

roast celery, pepper, courgette, mushroom & carrot taco at El Burrito

fish taco at El Burrito

The most successful taco I sampled was the pork al pastor version, but even here it wasn’t as boldly flavoured as I expected. The pork was rather anonymous, letting the sweet, slightly acidic chunks of pineapple taking centre stage.

pork al pastor taco at El Burrito

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £2

Average price per portion of tacos: £4.50

El Mexicana

Spanish-speaking linguistic pedants will probably point out that ‘El Mexicana’ is grammatically incorrect. The bigger problem is that the food at this small Bloomsbury diner is, at best, crushingly average. The chicken tinga burrito was filled with mildly fruity chunks of tomato-ish tasting chicken, bland guacamole and a moderately nutty smearing of refried pinto beans. The slapdash wrapping inevitably resulted in the moderately hot sauce dribbling out all over the place.

chicken burrito at El Mexicana

The tacos sadly used wheat flour tortillas. Filled with shredded beef, the dense strands of cow had an initial hit of smokiness but this faded quickly. The overflowing filling was otherwise identical to that of the burrito, but the hot sauce was much milder this time around.

beef tacos at El Mexicana

In an unexpected surprise, the churros weren’t a complete disaster. Although not especially buttery or fluffy on the inside, the outside was evenly crisp, oil-free and topped with a mixture of cinnamon and brown sugar. It’s best to opt for the dulce de leche sauce instead of the chocolate though – neither are great but the dulce de leche is nominally less bland than the chocolate.

churros with chocolate sauce at El Mexicana

churros with dulce de leche sauce at El Mexicana

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Flying Burrito

This three-branch, City-based mini-chain is absolutely crammed at lunchtime, but I fail to see why. The pork tacos do use reasonably fluffy and nutty corn tortillas, but the meat itself, while tender, is bland. The black beans were salty, but the guacamole was watery and the tomato salad on the side was clearly an afterthought and the hot sauce was only moderately spicy at best.

pork tacos at flying burrito

Unusually, Flying Burrito not only has a veggie burrito option but it’s also allegedly dressed in a mole sauce. There’s certainly plenty of sweet potato, corn and black beans which outweighs the rice, but there’s bugger all mole and the guacamole was as watery as ever.  The predominant taste was one of sweetness. Annoyingly, although the tortilla appears to be tightly wrapped, the bottom quickly becomes soggy, eventually breaking apart and spilling veg everywhere.

mole vegetable burrito at Flying Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

La Catrina

La Catrina is located inside the same space at the Shoreditch Boxpark pop-up mall previously occupied by Mexway (see immediately below). The pork burrito was filled with more rice than meat, but there was still enough pork. It was a little dry, but it was still very palatable thanks to its firm bite and earthy, slightly sweet flavour. There wasn’t much to be said about the black beans and there was very little guacamole. The hot sauce did produce a tingly, numbing sensation though while the tightly wrapped tortilla meant there was only minimal spillage.

pork burrito at La Catrina

La Catrina does use corn flour tortillas, but the roughly seven to eight inch versions used in my chicken tacos were far too big and thin. They quickly became soaked through from all the fillings and collapsed, producing one hell of a mess. There was far too much lettuce and cooked tomatoes and the guacamole and black beans failed to impress. The dense and tender stewed chunks of tangy, earthy beef was a far tastier taco filling than the flavourless mush that was passed off as chicken.

chicken and beef tacos at La Catrina

Rating:  ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6-7

Average price per burrito: £6-7

Mexway

Formerly located in the Shoreditch Boxpark, Mexway is now located in the chav ghetto known as Croydon. Although Mexway’s chicken tacos were just as overloaded as La Catrina’s, the muted corn tortillas didn’t become soggy and break apart. The firm and sweet tomatoes nicely balanced out the tingly heat of the spicy sauce, but the chicken itself was just soft mush.

chicken tacos at Mexway

The pork used in the pork burrito wasn’t as soft, but it was just as bland. The rice had a surprising buttery taste to it and the punchy spicy sauce and vegetables from the tacos made a repeat appearance here. The guacamole was both overly smooth and tasteless, but the tortilla was very tightly wrapped with no spillage.

pork burrito at Mexway

The horchata wasn’t bad, but it was a little too watery and too heavily flavoured with cinnamon for my liking.

horchata at Mexway

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Picante Grill

Located on a random side street in between Westminster and Belgravia, Picante Grill can be tricky to find. It was hard to tell if the tortillas used in the tacos were of the wheat or corn flour variety. Although thick with a slightly uneven texture like a corn tortilla, it tasted much more like a bland wheat flour tortilla. In any case the shredded beef filling was too dry, but at least it was hearty with slight woody, grassy hints to it. The dressing of jalapenos, coriander and onion didn’t leave much of an impression though. The sticky tomato rice on the side was an unnecessary afterthought, but the black turtle beans were tender with a gentle saltiness.

beef tacos at Picante Grill

Picante’s pork burrito was more impressive. The hearty meat was subtly woody and smoky and while the hot sauce wasn’t spicy, it did add an earthy muskiness to the meat. There was far more pork than rice, but the dull pinto beans might as well as not have been there.

pork burrito at Picante Grill

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Poncho No 8

There are three branches of Poncho No 8 with the St Paul’s outpost located in a sunless nook not far from the cathedral. Despite its inauspicious location, the place was packed during my weekday lunchtime visit. The pork tacos consisted of wheat flour tortillas filled with vaguely tomato-flavoured strands of moist pork. The smooth guacamole and timid hot sauce were tasteless, with a lot of the flavour and heat coming the jalapeños. There was far too much lettuce and black beans, most of which ended up toppling out of the over burdened tortillas.

pork tacos at Poncho No 8

A small amount of sauce managed to leak out from my otherwise well-wrapped chicken burrito. Although bland, the chunks of chicken were moist and firm, outnumbering the sweet, tomato flavoured rice. The coriander, vegetables and smooth, tasteless guacamole added little with most of the flavour coming from the moderately spicy hot sauce.

chicken burrito at Poncho No 8

Poncho No 8′s horchata was a disappointingly watery drink that tasted mostly of cinnamon.

horchata at Poncho No 8

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.30

Average price per burrito: £6.30

Tortilla

The normally trustworthy readers of Zagat must have had a collective and momentary brain spasm as they’ve rated the average Tortilla as the best Mexican restaurant in London. To be fair, I sampled the fare at the Oxford Circus branch rather than the Southwark location favoured by Zagat readers but then, as a chain, there shouldn’t be that much difference between branches.

The chicken tacos were served up in very nutty corn flour tortillas, but the meat itself was very dry and bland. It was saved only by the hot sauce which, while not very spicy, was very garlicky, woody and smoky.

chicken tacos at Tortilla

The same hot sauce made an appearance in the pork burrito. It was much needed as the strands of pork, while very hearty, were also quite dry. Although smooth, the guacamole was very creamy while the black beans were firm and salty. Some sloppy tortilla wrapping did mean the hot sauce dribbled all over the place though.

Naming a Mexican eatery ‘Tortilla’ is like naming a sandwich shop ‘Baps’.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4.30

Average price per burrito: £6

Market stalls and food trucks

Ambriento

Ambriento is a little different from the vast majority of the other eateries here. Unlike a Tex-Mex restaurant, this market stall doesn’t pretend to serve up traditional Mexican food, instead serving up tacos with fillings inspired by other cuisines. All of the tacos I tried still used fluffy, nutty corn flour tortillas but each one was filled to overflowing so having plenty of napkins to hand is a must.

The first taco came filled with hearty, meaty chunks of southern fried chicken. Free of excess oil, each chunk was coated in a thick yet crispy batter but paired with some rather bland mayonnaise and generic vegetable filler.

southern fried chicken taco from Ambriento

The kimchi pork taco was even better – the tender yet meaty strands of pig went down a treat with all the tart and refreshing pickled vegetables. These were much more flavoursome then the rather tame kimchi, making this taco seem more like a Vietnamese banh mi-inspired morsel than a Korean one.

kimchi pork taco from Ambriento

The least successful taco was the vegetarian, allegedly all-aubergine option. Although the moist eggplant chunks were buttery and not overcooked so that they had just the right amount of firmness, there wasn’t nearly enough of it with this taco mostly dominated with sweetcorn filler. Surprisingly, this taco proved to be the spiciest of the lot with a moderately fiery chilli sauce that seemed at odds with what little aubergine there was.

aubergine taco from Ambriento

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Buen Provecho

Even for a market stall, Buen Provecho can sometimes be a little hard to find with only infrequent appearances outside of its usual south of the river, Waterloo-ish pitch. It’s well worth it though as Buen Provecho cooks up some of the best tacos I’ve tried in London.

All of the tacos use proper corn flour tortillas and lots of crisp, tart pickled onions as a garnish. The chicken variant used tender chunks of meat that had a great depth of flavour – sweet, tangy and nutty with a dry chilli heat thrown in for good measure. The pork taco was just as good with the moist yet firm strands of pig blessed with a subtle smokiness that went well with the sweet hints of orange.

chicken taco from Buen Provencho

pork taco from Buen Provencho

The rather bitty slivers of meat in the beef taco was disappointing, but what it lacked in texture it more than made up for in taste. The marinade had frankly ridiculous levels of flavour – distinctly but not overpoweringly sweet, smoky and herby all at the same time.

beef taco from Buen Provencho

Rating: ★★★★★

Average price per portion of tacos: £5-6

Daddy Donkey

Daddy Donkey may be ‘just’ a market stall, but it’s a slick, well-oiled operation based out of a massive well-equipped trailer on Leather Lane, just off High Holborn, with another location promised soon. The pork burrito wasn’t bad, but it’s hardly deserving of the uncritical praise it’s received elsewhere. The tightly wrapped tortilla gives way to reveal firm, tomato-flavoured chunks of pork joined by salty, tender black beans and creamy guacamole. The guacamole is a touch too smooth and overly processed and the ‘extra hot’ spicy sauce is merely ticklish, but overall it’s a decent enough burrito.

pork burrito from Daddy Donkey

The hot sauce had clearly received some much needed attention when I came back for the tacos though. It was much more potent, complimenting the moist, fruity strands of shredded beef filling nicely. The chicken was rather dry, but it was fruity, musky and a little earthy which was very pleasing. The steak was fruity and peppery which made the slightly chewy chunks more palatable. The wheat flour tortillas and the excessive amount of lettuce and limp jalapeños were disappointing though.

tacos from Daddy Donkey

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Freebird

Although Freebird has a small take-away outlet near Liverpool Street station, it’s better known for its four market stalls located mostly in the West End so I’ve included it here with all the other market stalls and food trucks.

The pork burrito served up by the Berwick Street market stall was tightly wrapped with the meat dressed in a fruity, slightly acidic but ultimately rather mild hot sauce. The creamy guacamole and the firm, earthy, nutty refried pinto beans were pleasing. There was an even balance between the rice and the meat but the pork itself was disappointingly dry, bland and bitty.

pork burrito from Freebird

At the time of writing only the Liverpool Street take-away outlet currently serves tacos, with the market stalls due to start serving them soon. They’re nothing to get excited about though. Although the shredded beef taco was sensibly made with the staff not attempting to overstuff the wheat flour tortilla, the dense chunk of beef was flavoured with a generic supermarket-quality sweet and smoky ‘barbecue’ sauce. The smudge of guacamole and scattering of lettuce and tomatoes added little.

shredded beef taco at Freebird

The Liverpool Street location also serves up some burrito fillings not available at the market stands. The beef brisket option is a relatively good approximation of proper American-style barbecue beef brisket, but while peppery, smoky and reasonably hearty it didn’t have the same tender fatty moistness as the very best barbecue beef brisket. The tortilla was clumsily wrapped though and the bland guacamole didn’t impress. There was at least more meat than rice and the hot sauce had a tingly numbing effect.

beef brisket burrito from Freebird

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Kimchinary

A fresh and sprightly newcomer to London’s street food markets, Kimchinary is run by a warm and chatty Swede who serves up Korean-inspired tacos. Ambriento already does something similar, but Kimchinary is arguably more successful. All of the tacos I tried used soft, fluffy corn flour tortillas whose natural nuttiness was enhanced by a choice scattering of sesame seeds.

The meat in the ox cheek tacos took on the form of dense, salty cubes that weren’t quite as moreish as the moister, more delicate ox cheek strands used by Santo, but they’re still very satisfying and complimented well by the tart, mildly spicy kimchi.

ox cheek Korean tacos from Kimchinary

The pork belly tacos used cubes of pork layered with seams of moist fat which resembled pancetta in a way. The layers of pork fat made these tacos more hearty, but also arguably less interesting than its ox cheek counterpart.

pork belly Korean tacos from Kimchinary

One problem suffered by both tacos was the ton of pickled vegetables and sweet mayonnaise. Although a lip smacking compliment to either the ox cheek or the pork belly fillings, the moistness of it all made the tortillas soggy and caused them to break apart which made quite a mess.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Luardos

Luardos is instantly recognisable at whatever street market it turns up to thanks to its distinctive pink and blue vans. Although the medium rare steak used in Luardo’s tacos weren’t especially flavoursome, the thin slices of beef were very tender. The creamy, chunky guacamole contrasted nicely with the fiery chilli sauce, while the thick, nutty corn tortillas held everything together perfectly.

steak tacos from Luardos

Although I wasn’t fond of the rather bland, uninteresting pork used in Luardo’s pork burrito, it was very tightly wrapped with only minimal leakage, the same good quality guacamole and spicy sauce was used and the ratio of rice and meat was evenly balanced.

pork burrito from Luardos

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5.50

Average price per burrito: £6-7

Santana Grill

Santana Grill allegedly serves both tacos and burritos, but the former weren’t available during either of my visits to this market stall. The meat used in the pork burrito was firm and moist, but most of the flavour came from the sweet, refreshing tomato, lettuce and red cabbage accompaniment and the hot sauce. Although only moderately zingy, it was also earthy and musky. The entire package was tightly wrapped with very little leakage.

pork burrito from Santana Grill

The tortilla wasn’t as skilfully wrapped when I tried the chicken and chorizo burrito, with some of the hot sauce dribbling out. Like the pork burrito there was an even balance of meat and rice, but the meat filling was mostly dominated by firm cubes of chicken with the smooth but rather bland chorizo taking a back seat. The chicken had a sweet smoky flavour though with the salty black beans complimenting the meat well, while the zingy spicy sauce was noticeably hotter than before albeit at the cost of the earthy muskiness from before. There was little guacamole, with the heat of the spicy sauce counterbalanced instead by the crisp, refreshing vegetables.

chicken and chorizo burrito from Santana Grill

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Taco Stand

The Taco Stand may have one of the most unoriginal names here, but it also serves up some of the most interesting tacos I’ve tried although they’re not all totally successful. The menu changes fairly frequently, but on my first visit the vegetarian option was a fairly unusual combination of black beans and feta cheese. It wasn’t all that it could’ve been though. Although the salty, hearty yet tender beans hit the spot, the feta was too bitty and sparse to leave much of an impression.

black bean and feta taco from The Taco Stand

The beef taco was filled with meat that was a touch too dry, but it was also dense and woody. It was complimented well by the sweetness of the tomato-flavoured sour cream – a fruity flourish that makes sour cream much more palatable for me. I wasn’t impressed by the mushiness of the meat in the pork taco, but it was saved by its zingy flavour and the mild zestiness of the lime and coriander flavoured sour cream. All of the tacos used nutty corn flour tortillas which were clearly and lovingly hand made judging from their uneven edges.

pork taco from the Taco Stand

beef taco from The Taco Stand

The Taco Stand has also started selling burritos, but the beef and chorizo variety I tried felt rough compared to the tacos. The loosely wrapped tortilla meant that there was some spillage of the filling. There was more rice than meat, but the rice was dressed in a zesty, milky sour cream that was pleasing. The saltiness of the smooth chorizo was complimented well by the fruity sweetness of the beef. The hot sauce was tame and there wasn’t an option for guacamole, but the tart pickled onions was all that was needed to enhance the flavours of both the chorizo and the beef.

beef and chorizo burrito from The Taco Stand

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4

Average price per burrito: £5

Take-aways

Amigos

If you’re looking for somewhere sleek and sexy to get your fix of Mexican food, then Amigos definitely isn’t it. From the gruff service to the spartan shopfront, Amigos oozes the kind of glamour previously reserved for charity shops. Still, I can’t expect too much from a takeaway on Holloway Road in the unfashionable part of Islington.

Surprisingly, the pork taco filling came wrapped in corn flour tortillas although the initial nutty hit faded quickly on subsequent mouthfuls. Despite the addition of rice, the tortilla held everything together with very little spillage. Although dense, the pork itself was rather dry with most the moisture and taste coming instead from the smooth but bland guacamole and the earthy, tingly hot sauce.

pork tacos from Amigos

The overly dry meat was clearly a trend with the large chunks of poultry in the securely wrapped chicken burrito sharing the same problem. There was at least more chicken than rice and the larger squirt of earthy hot sauce proved to be eye-wateringly spicy. The bland guacamole and token amount of vegetables did little to cool things down – a dollop of sour cream would probably be a good idea.

chicken burrito from Amigos

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5-6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Bar Burrito

Despite its name Bar Burrito isn’t a bar, but a lunch place and take away. Most of this chain’s branches are located up North with the only London branch located in Paddington station.

The pork burrito is only worth getting if you need sustenance for a long train journey or can’t face the even worse culinary options at Heathrow. The pork had a slight woody flavour, but it was very dry and bitty and was bland enough that it could’ve been almost any other meat. There was more rice than meat, the guacamole was tasteless and there weren’t enough beans to leave much of an impression. The ‘extra hot’ spicy sauce only had a mild tingly numbing effect and some of the sauce managed to dribble out due to the slightly slapdash wrapping. Unimpressive.

pork burrito at Bar Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5-6

Mexican Express

Situated near some fashionably gritty drinking spots in Hoxton and Shoreditch, Mexican Express has some suitably late opening hours. Sadly, the quality of the food will only appeal to the drunken, gastronomically indiscriminate wolf packs that I try to avoid on a Saturday night.

There wasn’t a lot of guacamole in the chicken tacos and the hot sauce was nothing of the sort, but the chunks of rather dry chicken did have a certain butteriness to them. The wheat flour tortillas tasted of little, but did an adequate job of holding everything together.

chicken taco from Mexican Express

The tender stands of pig used in the pork burrito were reasonably moist but also quite bland with most of the taste coming from the sweet, tomato-flavoured rice. As with the chicken tacos, there was sod all guacamole and the hot sauce might as well have been ketchup for all the heat it contained.

pork burrito at Mexican Express

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £2.50

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Mi Casa

If there’s anywhere even less glamorous than either Amigos or Mexican Express to grab a bite, then it has to be Mi Casa. Located near the Gatwick Express gates at Victoria Station, this takeaway outlet is operated by SSP UK which sounds like it should be making drones and artillery emplacements than operating ’travel concessions’ as the company describes Mi Casa.

Sadly, you’d have to be a very hurried and harried commuter to find any joy in Mi Casa’s rather small burritos. If I squinted, I could just about discern the difference between the flavourless mush of pork and the greasy smear of refried beans as the two were almost indistinguishable in my mouth. The limp lettuce and dreary guacamole were even less impressive. At least the spicy sauce actually packed a zesty, chilli punch and the tortilla was snugly wrapped with only a few drops of sauce dribbling out.

pork burrito from Mi Casa

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £7

Tacolisa

Despite its name, Tacolisa’s expertly wrapped and rice-less staples bore more of a resemblance to the rice-lite burritos found at El Burrito then to any of the other tacos reviewed here. Snug as a bug inside the wheat flour tortilla was some tender but bland braised beef livened up by some mildly tingly hot sauce. The unremarkable vegetables added little and the whole thing was a little on the small side, so if you are tempted by these Croydon consumables then it’d be a good idea to order two.

braised beef taco from Tacolisa

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion: £5-6.25

Wrap It Up

I didn’t have high hopes for this franchised chain and its ‘world gourmet wraps’. The grande chicken burrito served up by the branch near Charing Cross and the Embankment neatly fulfilled my low expectations. The surprisingly small burrito was filled mostly with rice and some rather limp, anonymous vegetables and beans. The chunks of chicken were reasonably firm with a peppery, buttery taste and a mild, tingly heat. There was no option for sour cream or guacamole, but at least the whole package was securely wrapped with almost no leakage.

chicken burrito from Wrap It Up

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5-6

Miscellaneous

L’Autre

If there’s anything more bizarre than a Polish-Mexican restaurant like L’Autre, then it’s the fact that there’s a second such mash-up eatery in Hammersmith (Robin Hood, reviewed below). The strangeness at L’Autre continues to the cosily small interior which, with its timbered walls and red velour seating, looks like a hastily converted pub.

There are only a few half-hearted attempts at fusion cuisine on the menu, with most of the dishes coming instead from the Tex-Mex tradition and what I think is fairly traditional Polish food. An example of the latter would be my starter of fried kielbasa pork and beef sausages. The slices of smooth, moderately fatty and slightly peppery sausages weren’t bad, but not especially remarkable either. The sweet fried onions and mild mustard made this dish resemble a bread-free hot dog on a plate.

beef and pork Polish kielbasa sausage at L’Autre

The chicken burrito was the least offensive Tex-Mex style burrito that I’ve tried. Although I wasn’t fond of the tricolour sauces daubed on top of the burrito, the guacamole was at least reasonably coarse and zesty while the tomato sauce actually tasted of peeled, stewed tomatoes. The reasonably firm chunks of buttery chicken inside the snugly wrapped tortilla weren’t too shoddy either, while the fresh tomato and cucumber side salad was dressed in a sweet vinaigrette. If you’re going to insist on having a Tex-Mex style burrito then it might as well be this one.

Why does a Polish-Mexican restaurant have a French name? Because it’s in Mayfair?

I made the mistake of ordering the Polish-style cheesecake which turned out to be heartstoppingly huge. This dense, hearty wedge-shaped slab was large enough to keep a garage door open. It was mildly creamy, very stodgy and made me feel very bloated.

It’s not a cheesecake, it’s a doorstop.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £13

Barrio Central

I really, really wanted to hate Barrio Central. This bar jut off Oxford Street managed to bring out the curmudgeonly old codger hiding inside of me. The opening times are non-sensical and erratic, the bartender ignored me, the place was cramped, the hard seating numbed my butt cheeks and I couldn’t stand the groups of giggling girls who could shriek at an ear-bleeding volume louder than a baby alarmed at being eaten by a dingo.

The food, annoyingly, was surprisingly good. Although I would’ve preferred my steak taco filling cooked medium rare, the well-done slices of beef were tender with a slight fruity acidity to them and served in nutty corn tortillas. The spicy sauce was limp though and the green salad on the side seemed like an afterthought.

steak tacos from Barrio Central

Although Barrio’s pork burrito was similarly lacking in spicy heat, the hearty portion of tender, peppery and moist pork was larger than the serving of rice. There was some leakage from the hastily wrapped tortilla though and the green salad side was basic, but it was at least fresh, served at room temperature and drizzled with lemon juice.

pork burrito from Barrio Central

If you’re a non-drinker, don’t be tempted to order the pineapple agua fresca. Even as overpriced, watered down fruit juices go, this one is ridiculously charged at a cheeky fiver.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £8

Bombay Burrito

Even if I was avoiding some of London’s more gimmicky burritos and tacos in this round-up (and I’m not), I couldn’t ignore Bombay Burrito which serves up Indian-inspired fillings inside its tortillas. Choose your meat and how hot you want your curry sauce. I opted for lightly smoky chunks of chicken tikka and the hottest curry sauce available which turned out to be only mildly spicy. Although the chicken was paired with sweet, charred onions and what I’m pretty sure was bay leaf and kaffir lime, the burrito as a whole was surprisingly low key with the flavours not quite as bold as I was expecting from an Indian burrito. It’s still pleasing enough, although I do wonder whether using more traditional Indian breads, such as a roti or naan, would’ve produced better results.

chicken spicy hot burrito at Bombay Burrito

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Cafe Bebek

Cafe Bebek serves up an extensive menu of lunchtime dishes besides burritos, including jacket potatoes, sandwiches and even some rather limp, overcooked lahmacun (or Turkish pizzas). However, judging from the ‘for lease’ sign above the door, Cafe Bebek probably doesn’t have much time left in its current form and it’s not hard to see why after taking a bite of the chicken burrito.

The sloppy wrapping leads to large chunks of bland, rubbery chicken spilling out. There’s just slightly more chicken than rice, which was surprisingly fluffy. A mildly spicy sauce is present, but most of the heat comes from the jalapeños. The garlicky mayonnaise and carrots dominated this burrito though, lending it an almost Middle Eastern-ish flair but that flair wasn’t enough to rescue a startlingly bad example of lunchtime cafe overreach.

chicken burrito from Cafe Bebek

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5

Comboco

Comboco is a lunchtime salad bar that has, for some inexplicable reason, branched out into selling burritos. This salad bar heritage is evident from the pork burrito which the staff will fill with almost every conceivable type of salad unless you tell them to stop. The moist, honey-sweet pork, bell peppers, roasted onions, sweet corn and cherry tomatoes all made this burrito taste very sweet, but the sweet chilli sauce also packed a surprising amount of spicy heat. Although there was very little guacamole and no beans that I could taste, the staff did find room to chuck in a few potato chunks. Despite the cornucopia of fillings, the snugly wrapped tortilla held together surprisingly well. It’s pretty good as a salad wrap, but it’s a non-starter as a burrito.

pork burrito from Cocombo

While the pork burrito is an acceptable oddity, the mango-flavoured bubble tea is an inexcusable abomination. The small serving of luminescent liquid tasted like stale Fanta. The bubble pearls weren’t made out of tapioca, but out of some thin, brittle, sugary material instead. Should’ve had a Diet Coke instead.

bubble tea from Cocombo

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

The Diner

Breakfast burritos are still something of a rarity in London. The Diner branch in Soho does one, but I wasn’t expecting much following their dismal flat white and tepid burger. An uninspiring slag heap of tomato and cheese-flecked scramble eggs was joined by some salty and juicy slices of chorizo. The chorizo bits were few and far between though so there was little variation in taste or texture when chowing down through this breakfast burrito. The tortilla was wrapped reasonably tightly, but some chorizo juice did manage to seep out.

Some soft, mildly peppery black beans were served on the side as was some guacamole. The latter was smooth and heavily processed though with bitty pieces of avocado floating about in an overdose of lemon juice.

breakfast burrito from The Diner

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £7.20

Mildred’s

Soho would be a bit of a wasteland for vegetarians if it wasn’t for a handful of veggie restaurants such as the long established Mildred’s. I’m not sure who Mildred is, but her veggie burrito is an uninspiring dish. Served wet, the tomato sauce and cheese wasn’t too overpowering and added an extra layer of sweetness and creaminess, but I could still have done without it. The somewhat stodgy and overbaked tortilla contained some rice that was outnumbered by a large serving of lightly salty black beans that had just the right amount of firmness. There wasn’t any spicy sauce while the guacamole made up for its overprocessed smoothness with a large dash of zestiness.

Mildred’s vegetable burrito

It wasn’t too bad overall, but Mildred’s veggie burrito felt like a missed opportunity – an extra variety or two of beans or perhaps some squash or potatoes would have livened up an otherwise comparatively bland burrito that only confirms the worst fears of dim-witted carnivores.

Mildred’s vegetarian burrito

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £10.25

Robin Hood (aka Robin Hood Zorro)

The only thing weirder than Robin Hood’s Polish-Mexican menu is the restaurant’s bright and bizarre murals depicting the parallel lives of Robin Hood and Zorro culminating in a centerpiece where the two have a dual with model weapons mounted onto the wall.

Nothing says Pol-Mex food like Robin Hood vs Zorro. Wait, what?

Unlike the similar L’Autre in Mayfair, Robin Hood doesn’t make attempt at fusing together Polish and Mexican food preferring to keep them apart. The pierogi or Polish dumplings were oddly dressed in oil and garnished with bacon and fried onions. Of the three varieties available, the sauerkraut and mushroom one was my favourite due to the tart sauerkraut. The bland and stodgy cottage cheese filling didn’t sit well with me, while the ominous ‘meat’ version had the texture of tinned tuna and the taste of cheap sausages.

pierogi polish dumplings at Robin Hood

Robin Hood’s pork burrito was an odd and ultimately rather lame dish. The baked tortilla had a crispy underside, but the top was soggy due to the sweet tomato sauce, sour cream and smooth, slightly salty guacamole. Inside were some cubes of pork in a sauce that bore of a resemblance to cheap gravy than anything Mexican – naturally it had no spicy heat whatsoever. The side salad dressed in olive oil wasn’t too bad, but I could have done without the bland, stodgy rice flecked with overcooked vegetables.

They ate these in Sherwood Forest when times got tough.

pork burrito at Robin Hood

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £9

Tacuba

Even though it’s a glorified bar, Tacuba doesn’t accept credit cards. I wasn’t fond of the garish red lighting or the wobbly service which ranged from attentive to wilfully oblivious. There are just 27 covers which tend to be filled on weekends quite quickly. Oddly, burritos are only available for takeaway or delivery, but my lack of a nearby safe house meant I had to settle for the dine-in only taco menu.

All of the tacos used corn flour tortillas, but their nuttiness was rather muted. The tingly, fiery hot sauce made up for this to a certain degree though. The king prawns were rather limp and livened up only by its coriander dressing and the hot sauce.

prawn tacos from Tacuba

After that unpromising start, things picked up. The dense chunks of pork loin in the pork tacos had a sharp, fruity acidity that was very pleasing. Even better were the cactus tacos – the sweet, squidgy slices of cactus weren’t drowned out by the ill-advised accompaniment of heavily refrigerated tomatoes.

pork taco from Tacuba

cactus tacos from Tacuba

Although the portion of churros was a bit miserly, it did taste surprisingly good. Crispy on the inside and soft, fluffy and free of excess oil on the inside, although the dulce de leche sauce was too milky and the mediocre vanilla ice cream was a tacked-on afterthought.

churros at Tacuba

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Whole Foods (Piccadilly Circus)

Whole Foods is a US supermarket chain with a reputation for selling overpriced organic groceries to arm chair liberals and moneyed foreign students. This is of course unfair – they sell plenty of food to fuzzy hippies too. The Piccadilly branch has a large chunk of its ground floor dedicated to various take-out counters, but the pork burrito was unexceptional.

Although the pork was reasonably firm and mildly peppery, it was a bit too dry and rather bland overall. The tingly heat of the spicy sauce and the saltiness of the firm black beans was counterbalanced nicely by the fresh, sweet tomatoes and coriander. Although a bit too smooth, the guacamole was sweet, zesty and creamy. The rice looked more like quinoa and outnumbered the meat. There was some leakage of hot sauce due to the slapdash wrapping, but it wasn’t too bad.

pork burrito from Whole Foods

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Tex-Mex restaurants

Cafe Mexicali

If you wanted to spite yourself and your stomach, then Cafe Mexicali is the place for you. Smothered wet by default, the tortilla breaks apart to reveal some moist but bland chicken served with equally uninteresting bell pepper and onion slices. Served on the side was a portion of mushy but reasonably nutty pinto beans and some smooth, tasteless guacamole. The only way to liven up this dull excuse for a burrito was to slather multiple servings of the ‘hot’ sauce over the burrito until a mild, cumulative spiciness collected on my tongue.

chicken burrito at Cafe Mexicali

The burrito was a touch on the small side, but don’t be tempted to order the onion rings to fill that hole. Although free from excess oil, the reconstitute mash of onion underneath the thin, limp batter wasn’t worth the calories.

onion rings from Cafe Mexicali

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Chico Bandito

The service at Chico Bandito can be a two-sided thing. My actual waitress was friendly and efficient. The maître d’, on the other hand, pointedly tried to ignore my existence before wearily deciding that he would seat me.

chicken burrito at Chico Bandito

As expected the wet chicken burrito tasted mostly of the excessively sweet cheese and tomato sauce layered on top of the tough tortilla. The mushy meat and salty guacamole were unimpressive, while the odd salad consisted mostly of chickpeas, sweet corn and onions. It’s a sad burrito when its accompanying side salad was more interesting.

Chico Bandito’s chicken burrito

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Chiquito

The Leicester Square branch of Chiquito, previously known as Chi Chi’s, has been there for as long as I can remember. It’s had a few facelifts in its time, outlasting other Leicester Square stalwarts such as the grotty old Man Fu Kung Chinese restaurant (now a grotty Yate’s) and the ugly old Swiss Centre (now an even uglier W Hotel). I have no doubt that in the inevitable post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland, mutant cockroaches will get their fix of shoddy Tex-Mex food from the Leicester Square Chiquito.

Nothing I’ve ever eaten has been as shoddy and insulting as the deplorable chicken tacos, now unsurprisingly removed from the menu. Bitty pieces of stodgy, bland chicken, some tasteless rice and a few shreds of lettuce came in a wheat flour tortilla. The only dressing was an oddly sweet sour cream. The overall effect was of a cheap supermarket-quality chicken Caesar salad scraped out of a bin and into a tortilla.

chicken tacos at Chiquito

The churros wasn’t nearly as bad as the spiteful tacos. Although the dough sticks were a touch too oily and soft, I was surprised to discover that they had a creamy cinnamon filling which not only complimented the buttery taste of the pastry but also made up for the startlingly tasteless dusting of cinnamon. The bland chocolate sauce wasn’t worth bothering with.

Chiquito churros

I opted for the pork burrito on my second visit to Chiquito. As expected, the burrito was served wet, smothered with bland dollops of tomato sauce, sour cream and smooth, overly processed guacamole. Oddly, there was also a second tomato sauce that was far sweeter than the first. Inside the tightly wrapped tortilla were some unremarkable black beans and some tender, moist strands of pork. It was hard to appreciate the taste of the meat though as the stuff was slathered with an excessively sweet barbecue-style sauce.

pork burrito at Chiquito

In an fit of ultimately unsurprising lack of consistency, the churros this time around were quite different compared to the version served on my first visit. These churros were less oily and crisper, but also far blander and the creamy cinnamon fillings was gone leaving a hollow centre. The chocolate dipping sauce was even worse than before with a bizarrely lumpy consistency as if the stuff had been made from partially melted Cadbury’s chocolate buttons. Vile.

churros from Chiquito

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Desperados (N1)

There are a few Tex-Mex restaurants with the Desperados name in London with the two located in Petts Wood and Islington sharing the same owners. The most remarkable thing about the Islington Desperados isn’t the grumpy, monosyllabic service but the murals depicting demonic copulation in the gentlemen’s toilets. A case of art imitating life? I couldn’t possibly say.

Desperados N1 chicken burrito

The chicken burrito was almost as hellish with the meat consisting of a squidgy mush interspersed with a few square pieces that weren’t any firmer. The warmed-over rice tasted like stale left overs scavenged from a student’s fridge, while the pinto beans served on the side almost resembled baked beans as they were served in a watery tomato and vegetable sauce. Although I tried to order the burrito dry, someone among the surly staff ignored my instructions. It turned out that the toppings of a sweet tomato salsa and a sharp onion-flavoured sauce were among the least offensive parts of this burrito.

Desperados chicken burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £9

El Paso (Hoxton)

El Paso is the only Tex-Mex restaurant here to not have a cheesy, cliched ‘Mexican’ decor of sombreros and cacti opting instead for a look entirely fitting for its Shoreditch location. The eclectic range of reclaimed furniture and anglepoise lamps actually look quite pleasing, but the handful of postmodern art pieces should be carted back to the A-Level college they were stolen from.

El Paso’s steak burrito mostly consisted of rice with a wispy coriander flavour and some vaguely nutty black beans with no guacamole or spicy sauce at all. There tender strips of sirloin were cooked well-done, so they didn’t taste of much. Despite the cheese and tomato sauce slathered over the thick, stodgy tortilla, this burrito was exceptionally bland. It’s as if the kitchen designed it for your mother-in-law from the provinces who’s still sceptical of yoghurt, never mind Mexican food.

El Paso Hoxton steak burrito

El Paso Hoxton’s steak burrito

Given the extreme lack of taste in the steak burrito, I was pleasantly surprised to discover sweet, salty chunks of fatty pork belly in the pork tacos. I could’ve done without the thick sour cream though which, along with the crisp hard shell tortillas and refrigerated slices of tomato, helped obscure the taste of the pork belly.

pork belly tacos at El Paso Hoxton

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £9

Average price per burrito: £9

Loco Mexicano

Of all the Tex-Mex restaurants here, Loco Mexicano near Victoria Station is easily the most undignified. The maître d’ wears a poncho and sombrero, while punters drunk enough to have lost their self-respect can don cowboy hats and sombreros.

All that ridiculous get-up isn’t as offensive as the prawn and crab tacos. The fill-them-yourself hard shell tortillas were accompanied by shrimp cocktail and some drab crab that was so heavily refrigerated, it might as well have been shredded fish sticks.

prawn and crab tacos at Loco Mexicano

Loco Mexicano does at least make one of the least repulsive Tex-Mex burritos here. Although the tortilla was stodgy and the rice was especially bland, the shredded chicken did have some firmness to it while the jalapeño slices added some heat. The overwhelmingly dominant flavour was the sweet tomato sauce smeared all over the top of the burrito.

chicken burrito at Loco Mexicano

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £11

The Winners

If you’re looking for a great taco in London, then the best places to go are (in alphabetical order) Buen Provecho, Mestizo and Santo. These three are unrivalled when it comes to dishing out simple, but delicious tacos. Other taco purveyors that weren’t quite as impressive but still deserve an honourable mention include La Bodega Negra, Boho Mexica, Tacuba and Mex-Korean mashup market stall Kimchinary.

It’s a different story when it comes to burritos. No eatery truly impressed me, although Santo came close. If the wilds of Westbourne Grove are too far out for a good burrito, then Benito’s Hat, Chilango, Luardos and Santana Grill are also respectably good lunchtime alternatives but none of these five really captured my imagination when it came to burritos.

Ending my gut-busting Mexican tour of London on such a sour note would be a downer. Instead, I’ll give thanks – the burrito and taco scene in London is far better than it ever has been, even when compared to as recently as a year ago, and this is all down to the hard working folks at the restaurants and market stalls. They deserve our thanks and our encouragement – Mexican food in London still has some way to go, but it’s already come so, so far.

Tower Bridge gets a classy new neighbour

A lot of new London restaurants have adopted some variant of the stripped back ‘industrial’ look common in Shoreditch – bare brick walls, exposed ventilation ducts and naked concrete floors. I’m thoroughly bored of this now cliched aesthetic, so I was pleased to discover that Story has opted for an entirely different style of decor.

Situated on the site of a now demolished public lavatory near Tower Bridge, Story immediately stands out from its neighbours thanks to its handsome wood panelling and floor-to-ceiling glass windows. These windows not only give a view of the small but picturesque lawn out front, but also of the Shard in the distance. The high ceiling and the light streaming in through the big windows makes the small dining room feel airy and much larger than it actually is. Story’s interior decorators couldn’t resist the dreaded bare concrete floors though, which meant that sound bounced off them helping create a relatively noisy dining experience.

Story only has tasting menus – a £65 ten course menu which is cheaper than similarly sized menus at other Modernist restaurants in London. There’s also a slightly cheaper six course menu at £45, although skipping three savoury courses and one of the three desserts for the sake of £20 is barely worth it unless you’re also short on time. Shorter, cheaper menus are apparently served at lunchtime.

The Euro Hedgie and I opted for the ten course menu which started at a break neck pace with the starters coming out so quickly that we barely had time to finish the amuse bouche and catch our breath. The three amuse bouche were nothing if not visually arresting. A vividly orange coloured and earthy tasting flower filled with a salty oyster cream set the meal off with a bang.

The flower of one’s youth.

I was non-plussed by the rabbit ‘sandwich’, a finger-sized puff of anonymised, textureless meat although I did appreciate the macabre whimsy of the tart, pickled carrot topping. The Hedgie was more enamoured with it and while texture can be successfully separated from taste to stunning effect, I remain unconvinced that this can be done with meat.

Wascally Wabit.

My favourite amuse bouche, which the Hedgie wasn’t as fond of, was the cod skin. Resembling a posh poppadom shard, the crisp crackling had a salty, intensely fishy taste balanced out by a herby garnish.

Cod piece.

Following the quirky sophistication of the amuse bouche was a starter that was both surprisingly different and simpler in style. A hearty, chunky serving of sourdough bread was, for some reason, presented in a leather pouch. Accompanying it was beef dripping and rapeseed oil in the form of a candle. Although the bread was suitably tart and hearty, it also overpowered the lardy taste of the dripping in its melted, liquid form. The beef dripping took on a bolder taste that was more able to hold its own against the bread when it congealed into a concentrated paste. In this form it was far too easy to imagine the lard blocking up my arteries, although the fruity meat relish added some much needed moistness and lightness.

Fat of the land.

Fruit of the loom.

Fat head.

The next dish apparently combined some of the chef’s favourite flavours – apple, burnt onion and gin. The Hedgie rightly pointed out that gin isn’t a flavour but a lifestyle choice, although that wasn’t the main problem with this dish. The sweetness of the burnt onion was balanced out by the acidity of the apple and the booziness of the gin, while the thyme oil acted as a unifying element. However, this rather intellectual combination just wasn’t especially satisfying at a gut level.

Gin isn’t a flavour, it’s a lifestyle choice.

If the shellfish used in the scallops, cucumber and dill ash dish weren’t raw, then they were at least very lightly cooked. The tender, quivering scallops were startlingly fresh with a taste and scent evocative of the fishy smell that hits you as you walk through the door of a fish monger. I was thoroughly unconvinced by the sweet, crisp cucumber balls and weird spheres of dill ash which not only added little to the scallops, but actively drew attention away from them.

The scallops are both small and far away.

One of my favourite dishes of the evening was the crab with smoked leek, rapeseed, pear and lovage. Although I’d have preferred a firm meaty claw rather the bitty head meat, it was complimented very nicely by the strong, herby lovage oil and the gently smoked leek, while the pear added some crisp, refreshing sweetness. It was so good, I ate it all before I could remember to take a photo.

Potatoes usually form the basis of a side dish rather than a course in of themselves. Here, a firm hemisphere of potato was served alongside a creamy soft mash that had an acidic flavour due to the addition of radish. A few sprigs of barley grass added an extra layer of moreishness, although the oddly neutral black oil was a strange addition. It all sounds very odd, but it’s just flavoursome and interesting enough to work as a tasting course in of itself.

Sack of potatoes.

Beetroot, raspberry and horseradish sounds like a random selection of words thrown onto a page rather than a dish, but this odd combination of ingredients worked surprisingly well. The earthy taste of the small cylindrical pieces of beetroot were complimented nicely by the sweetness of the raspberries, with the horseradish acting as a spicy palate cleanser. The horseradish takes the unusual form of small, icy, crumbly blocks. Somehow infusing the typical horseradish heat into a crumbly form with a very atypical icy cold finish emphasised the spice of the horseradish rather then detracting from it. Splendid.

The heat of snow.

The final savoury course was a more traditional affair, but no less satisfying. A hearty and meaty slab of ox cheek cut away into exceptionally tender strands and was served in a moreish sauce. The moreishness of the sauce and the meatiness of the beef was complimented very well by sweet and sour hemispheres of cherry as well as by the bitter leaves and the distinctive taste of the firm cauliflower. The flavour of the small cauliflower floret was enhanced by a yeasty cauliflower cream that was very satisfying in its own right.

Turn the other cheek.

If you’ve never had milk delivered to your doorstop in glass bottles, then you not appreciate the whimsy of the first dessert delivered to the table in miniature milk bottles. The bottles were filled with a thin layer of tart and sour rhubarb coulis topped with a layer of custard cream, although this upper layer was more milky than creamy or custard-ish. This yoghurt-ish concoction was pleasant enough, but it would have been rather forgettable if it wasn’t for the quirky presentation.

Cream of the crop?

Far more interesting was the lemon sorbet, although this simple name hardly does this dessert justice. The sour, acidic fruit was represented in numerous forms from an icy, crumbly sorbet to a bittersweet cream and a crisp, bitter, icy shell that been pockmarked to resemble the skin of a lemon. Delightfully accomplished.

Lemony fresh.

The final dessert of the evening took inspiration from Goldilocks and Three Bears. Three small bowls, each filled with a different oat porridge – too salty, too sweet and just right. The too salty porridge was exceptionally, almost inedibly salty and oddly flavoured with what appeared to be shaved almonds. The two sweet porridge tasted heavily of honey, but in a very sickly, artificial way that was reminiscent of Sugar Puffs cereal. The third and final porridge, which should’ve been ‘just right’, was an odd tasting combination of sharp lemon and fennel, sweet raisins and butter. None of the porridges were especially satisfying.

Too salty.

Too sweet.

Just right?

The Verdict

I’m fond of the elegant decor at Story and there’s no doubting the whimsical inventiveness of the kitchen, but the food was by no means an unconditional success. Some dishes were indeed wonderful but others sacrificed accomplished, balanced cooking for the sake of a visual in-joke where the punchline falls flat. Nevertheless, Story shows great promise.

Despite my hesitancy, Story is already incredibly popular with reservations hard to come by. However, until the kitchen breaks itself in I’d much rather eat at the nearby Magdalen. Although Magdalen’s style is very different and isn’t as flashy in its presentation, its cooking is consistently excellent and that’s a story worth writing home about.

Name: Story

Address: 201 Tooley Street, London SE1 2UE

Phone: 020 7183 2117

Web: http://www.restaurantstory.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Tuesday-Saturday noon-14.00 and 18.30-21.00.

Reservations: essential

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and service when shared between two people: £76 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Easily mistaken for a pub, but only if you’re an idiot

Some restaurants open with a blaze of publicity and hype, while others open quietly and slowly but surely build up a sterling reputation through word of mouth. Newman Street Tavern is one of the latter, but it’s hard to understand why this gem of a restaurant hasn’t been showered with plaudits from the outset. The service is friendly and efficient, the wood-panelled dining room with its eye-catching staircase is handsome and, most importantly of all, the seasonal menu is top notch.

First things first

Trout is often seen as a second-rate substitute for salmon which is not entirely undeserved, but the cured trout here is a fine alternative to smoked salmon which is becoming an increasingly cliched ingredient and dish. The thin slices of lean trout had a tart, fruity, slightly herby taste to them that’s refreshingly different from smoked salmon.

Don’t turn up your snout at trout.

Even better was the grey mullet in a garlic broth. The thick, meaty chunks of fish had a surprising lightness to it which was complimented very nicely by the broth. Despite its pronounced garlickiness, the broth didn’t overwhelm the fish but instead enhanced its meaty morishness.

Mullet – one of the least sexiest words in the English language

A side dish of light and tender carrot pieces flavoured with fennel went down nicely, as did potatoes fried with garlic and parsley. The crisp and buttery little chunks were almost like hash browns and I love hash browns (sorry folks, no photos of either of these side dishes).

A slice of almond tart served with almond ice cream sounds rather monotonous and dull, but that was far from the case. The crumbly, nutty tart had a warm bottom layer of oozing almond paste that wasn’t excessively sweet. The moderately large ice crystals in the distinctively flavoured ice cream added a refreshing jolt that neatly balanced out the warm, relatively heavy tart.

I’m a tart for tarts.

Going back for seconds

I wasn’t expecting much from the onion tart starter on my second visit, but I was pleasantly surprised by the sweet custard-like flavour of the fluffy filling. The pastry was just right too – neither too hard and crunchy nor too soft and crumbly.

Onion night.

The pork served with beer braised onions was much more than the sum of its parts. The fatty moreishness and charred sweetness of the hearty chunk of pork was complimented exceedingly well by the tangy moreishness and sweetness of the tender onions. It was a warming and satisfying dish – like a heartfelt hug from a long lost friend.

That was a somewhat tortured metaphor, but this little piggy really did hit the spot.

The spiced cauliflower was a good match for the delicious pork chop. The firm vegetables were lightly dusted with a masala-like mixture of spices that tickled the palate rather than overwhelming it.

May a thousand cauliflowers bloom.

Cranachan is apparently a traditional Scottish dessert and this was my first time at trying it. The surprisingly thick and heavy set yoghurt was almost like cottage cheese. It was dotted with hearty oats and topped with a slice of tart rhubarb, but there wasn’t quite enough of either so the heavy and monotonous creaminess of the yoghurt would’ve dominated this dessert if it wasn’t for the gentle smokiness of the whiskey. A potentially good dessert that needs a little rebalancing to make it truly great.

Unleash the cranachan!

The Verdict

I’m a big fan of the Newman Street Tavern and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be either. The handsome decor, friendly service and elegantly understated yet accomplished cooking put many competing restaurants to shame.

Name: Newman Street Tavern

Branch tried: 48 Newman Street, London W1T 1QQ

Phone: 020 3667 1445

Web: http://www.newmanstreettavern.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday noon-23.00 and Sunday 10.30-17.00.

Reservations: highly recommended

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: £35-50 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

So popular, it needs its own doorman

The oddly-named Social Eating House is the latest restaurant in Jason Atherton’s empire and it’s not quite as expensive as Atherton’s flagship Pollen Street Social. Whereas Pollen Street Social has a muted, inoffensive decor suited to its Mayfair location, the Soho-based Social Eating House is a tad more adventurous with wooden floors, exposed brick walls lined with various artworks and moody lighting beaming down from handsome fittings. There are a lot of tables packed in to the relatively small space, along with a few counter spaces for single diners thrown in too. The bare floors and boisterous clientele make for a rather loud experience which won’t suit everyone.

There’s an upstairs bar, with its own dedicated entrance, where you can kill you liver with lots of cocktails if you so desire. Service was efficient which was no surprise given the army of waiting staff. The relatively large menu may look rather traditional at first glance, but many of the dishes have been given an unusual and modern twist.

First things first

Social Eating House’s main menu has a section devoted to jars of pâté-like snacks which feel more at home on the bar menu. Kangaroo Face and I decided to treat them as an amuse bouche and jumped straight in, opting for two of the more intriguing sounding options – the salt cod brandade and the confit pork rillettes.

I was a little underwhelmed by the confit pork rillettes and I’m usually a big fan of anything confit. The slightly coarse but light and easily spreadable rillettes was a touch creamier and fattier than standard rillettes, but not by much. The smooth salted cod cream was far better with its gentle fishy taste and hints of fruitiness. Both were served with a generous portion of bread pre-smeared with salted butter which worked best with the salted cod.

I confit in this jar.

Why are restaurants suddenly putting crisps in everything?

I followed up the jars with a starter of smoked beef tartare. Although I wasn’t convinced that it was any better than a more traditional steak tartare, the light smoky flavour wasn’t overpowering or sickly while the raw beef had a pleasingly firm and bouncy texture. A gentle amount of heat from some horseradish added an extra hint of flavour to a competent starter.

Smoking is prohibited. Or is it?

Kangaroo Face was disappointed with the presentation of his CLT – crab, lettuce and tomatoes – where the lettuce leaves were draped in a careless, unimaginative fashion over the crab and tomatoes. He would also have preferred better quality crab meat such as a claw instead of the bitty head meat. Despite all of this, the numerous ripe, punchy varieties of tomato and the smoky sweetness of the tomato vinaigrette made this a memorable and ultimately pleasing starter.

Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world – except for a nice MLT. Mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They’re so perky, I love that.

Kangaroo Face continued the seafood theme with his main course of roasted cod. The glossy flakes of fish were evenly cooked and the cream sauce made from a shellfish stock was strongly flavoured and pleasant enough. However, there just wasn’t enough contrast in either flavour or texture to hold his interest.

The Picky Glutton is currently listening to Hurts.

I opted for the ‘flamed’ pork chop. The thick slab of evenly cooked pig had a mildly charred exterior that had a firm bite giving way to a tender interior. The flesh had slightly salty and slightly sweet taste that was highlighted by the soy-like drizzling sauce. I was non-plussed by the charred spring onion and the beetroot, but the creamy polenta was far better with its grits-like finely gritted consistency.  As satisfying as the pork and the polenta were, they didn’t really compliment each other and felt instead like ingredients on a plate rather than a consistent whole.

Almost typed ‘flambéed pork chop’.

Kangaroo Face was amused and delighted by his lemon curd pie. The dessert was deconstructed with the pastry crust in loose crumb form while the curd, merginue and sour yoghurt sorbet were all separated from each other. However, the thick and strongly flavoured curd overpowered both the sorbet and the sherbet-like meringue so while each individual element was tasty in its own right, they didn’t work well together. If there’s an order in which they’re supposed to be eaten, then it’s not obvious.

Like a lemon curd pie, that’s amore?

My own dessert combined some unusual ingredients not usually seen together – Szechuan pepper, pineapple, lime and coconut. The combination of Szechuan pepper and lime in the ice cream was an odd one and although the numbing heat of the Szechuan pepper had been significantly reduced, its distinctive flavour was unmistakable and made for a strangely satisfying ice cream. The dried pineapple cubes and slices resembled candy in their sugary sweetness while the coconut cream to the side was almost wispy in its lightness. However, as with the lemon curd pie, none of these elements really worked together.

Has someone been cribbing from Alvin Leung?

Going back for seconds

I had mixed feelings about my first meal at Social Eating House so I had to return for seconds, this time on my own. I started off with a jar of spiced aubergine. It was completely unlike the aubergine dips often found in Lebanese cuisine, instead resembling an unspicy, meat-free version of chilli con carne. The chunky, diced bits of aubergine were flecked with tomato and parsley giving it a sweet flavour – a sweetness which was hard to appreciate if spread over the accompanying slices of bread already spread with salted butter.

Jarhead.

Mushrooms on toast may sound like the dullest dish ever, but it’s far more interesting when the mushrooms appear to have been cooked sous vide. Gelonch in Barcelona sometimes serves supremely stunning meats cooked sous vide, but I was sceptical that the method was really necessary for mushrooms. While the mushrooms were tender, taut and slippery with a very muted flavour when eaten on their own, the real joy was in their intensely buttery and earthy aroma. They only tasted mildly earthy and sour when eaten on the slice of toast pre-smeared with cep purée. Choosing to purêe cep seemed odd too – part of the joy of cep mushrooms is their smooth, silky texture which was lost here.

Mushrooms.

Toast.

Curried hake sounds like a very heavy dish, but the soft, fluffy fish was only lightly spiced. This gentle curry flavour was enhanced by the thin but distinctly flavoured cauliflower sauce served on the side in a small pot to be poured at your discretion. A separate, thicker cauliflower sauce was poured over a firm chunk of cauliflower, enhancing that vegetable’s mildly bitter taste. The firm cauliflower and baby broccoli provided a contrast in texture to the fluffy hake, but the baby squid and grated cheese seemed unnecessary.

Don’t hake me.

Kangaroo Face had almost opted for the honey almond sponge on our first visit, but decided not too declaring that he wasn’t ‘about to spend £6.50 on a sponge cake, no matter how good it is’. That’s his loss – the sponge turned out to be far more satisfying than either of our desserts the first time around.

The dense, small crumbed sponge had been soaked in honey – the moist texture and light, syrupy sweetness was reminiscent of the Indian dessert gulab jamun. The crunchy almond pieces provided a counterpoint to all the softness, while a thick, tangy orange coulis provided a sweet citrusy burst. The goats curd ice cream provided a tart shot of refreshment after all those bold flavours and textures, although it needed a cleaner aftertaste to be a truly effective palate cleanser.

Not all sponges are created equal.

The Verdict

Social Eating House is already wildly popular with Soho’s sozzled, novelty-seeking bourgeoisie but I’m more ambivalent about the place. Some dishes are very good indeed, but others are merely satisfactory. Given the choice, I’d rather eat at 10 Greek Street, Newman Street Tavern or Duck Soup which are all similarly priced or cheaper. Although none of those restaurants attempt to replicate Social’s creative twists, they’re far more successful in serving up consistently good dishes. The only snag is that out of those three only Newman Street Tavern, like Social Eating House, accepts reservations.

Name: Social Eating House

Address: 58 Poland Street, London W1F 7NR

Phone: 0207 993 3251

Web: http://www.socialeatinghouse.com

Opening Hours: Monday – Saturday noon–14.30 and 17.30–22.30

Reservations: essential.

Average cost for one person including service and free tap water: £45-50 (add at least £20 extra if drinking booze) 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Treading water or better than ever?

When I first dined at Pizarro shortly after it opened in the autumn/winter of 2011, I noted a few niggling blemishes and hoped they’d be ironed out. After a longer delay than initially planned, I made a return visit on a weekend evening with Templeton Peck, Socialist Worker and the Squinting Brummie to see if it really is worth queuing for the eternally popular Pizarro.

I don’t drink, but the Squinting Brummie and Templeton Peck love a good tipple and opted for a carafe of 2009 Syrah from Tierra de Castilla by Casa Delle Valle. They both seemed pleased by their choice with the Brummie describing it as earthy and reminiscent of blackcurrants.

Drink less and you’ll be wealthier and healthier. Simple.

The Brummie enjoyed his plate of thinly sliced chorizo which had a salty and nutty flavour. Templeton had to stop himself from wolfing down the tender, fresh and creamy scallops all in one go. Socialist Worker was pleased the tenderness of his squid which was complimented nicely by the squidginess of the sautéed artichokes.

It’s always good to meat up.

The world is your scallop.

Someone told me the other day that he had never tasted squid before. Poor soul.

My own starter of Jerusalem artichokes served with goat’s curd and hazelnuts was a delightful layer cake of flavours and textures. The artichoke pieces had a charred, slightly chewy outer layer which quickly gave way to a creamy centre that was accentuated by the light creaminess of the goat’s curd and the crunchy, nutty sweetness of the hazelnuts. The curd had a texture that was curiously both coarse and fluffy at the same time.

No hambush here.

I continued my meat-free trend by opting for sweet potatoes with pomegranate and blue cheese as my main course. The sweet and fluffy sweet potato slices contrasted nicely with the crunchy pomegranate pieces and the bold, tangy and sharp saltiness of the soft blue cheese.

Who says vegetarian food has to be boring?

Socialist Worker was disappointed by the blandness of his cod served upon a bed of beans, although given his crude palate and blundering vocabulary this might not necessarily be the cod’s fault.

I am a jealous Cod.

Although Templeton complained that his onglet steak cooked rare was a little chewy and tough around the edges, the centre of each beefy slice was pink and quivering with plenty of moreish flavour that was enhanced by the sweet onions and hearty gravy. The exceptionally creamy mash went down a treat too.

Steak envy.

Even better than the onglet was the Brummie’s duck breast cooked rare. The moist and tender meat was spectacularly moreish due in no small part to the salty, seafood-ish sauce. The mildly bitter spinach contrasted well with the oranges and pears which weren’t overly sweet. The tender slices of sweet pear were a particularly good match for the duck.

Partially devoured.

For dessert, Socialist Worker plumped for the honey toffee cheesecake. He found it to be soft, fluffy, custardy and very light with a sugary sweetness to it. Templeton Peck and I both went for the soft and fluffy almond tart which had a dense crumb pastry. The tart yoghurt ice cream was icy with a clean, pure aftertaste that cleansed the palate of the nutty almond flavours from the tart very effectively.

The Santiago tart is apparently a traditional dish from northern Spain.

The Squinting Brummie opted for the white chocolate mousse and apple. The diced apple cubes had been dipped in lemon juice giving them a zesty tinge, but the excess juice mean that the top layer of mousse on which they rested turned soggy and a little gloopy. Despite this, once the apples were mixed in with the mousse and cinnamon-flavoured crumble the result was an exquisite multi-layered melange of sweetness and varying textures.

Mousse!

The service at Pizarro varied from mildly brusque to forced civility, but there was no doubting their efficiency. Upon accidentally smashing Templeton’s wine glass when clearing the table at the end of our meal, the shards were promptly cleared away and a replacement, complimentary glass brought to the table within minutes.

The Verdict

Pizarro still isn’t quite perfect but, as at sister restaurant José, the cooking is very good indeed. If you haven’t made you way down there, then you owe to it yourself to do so.

Name: Pizarro

Address: 194 Bermondsey Street, London, SE1 3UB

Phone: 020 7407 7339

Web: http://www.josepizarro.com/restaurants/pizarro/

Opening Hours: seven days a week noon-15.00 and 18.00-23.00.

Reservations: not taken.

Total cost for one person including soft drinks but excluding tip: £30 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Sometimes smaller really is better

Compared to the barren dessert of a year ago, London’s Soho is now awash with dedicated ramen restaurants – namely Ittenbari, Tonkotsu, Bone Daddies and Shoryu. The latest is Kirazu, a very small restaurant on the former site of a Lebanese cafe. Small is the key word in every sense – the communal benches only have space for around two dozen covers, the toilet is barely bigger than an airplane WC and the menu lists just three types of ramen – shio (salt), shoyu (soy sauce) and miso. There’s also a small selection of side dishes (unnecessarily called ‘Japanese tapas’ on the menu) with some daily specials, but the focus is clearly on ramen.

Cozy.

First things first

The small restaurant was almost deserted on my weekday evening visit with The Lensman. We shared a plate of gyoza which, even for a side dish, was a little small with just three dumplings. They weren’t terribly impressive dumplings either – I wasn’t fond of the rather bland, anonymous vegetable filling or the skins which were crispy all over. I’d have preferred gyoza skins which were crispy on one side and soft and pliable on the other.

Crispy dumplings. Odd.

The takoyaki were far better. These small, soft, doughy balls each had a firm piece of salty octopus in the middle. Each ball was then dressed with toppings often seen on okonomiyaki – katsuobushi (dried tuna flakes), mayonnaise and a sweet, tangy brown sauce. A delightfully moreish snack and far better than the merely passable takoyaki available from the Yaki bakery on Goodge Street.

Octopus balls.

I opted for the shio (salt) ramen. The clear broth wasn’t very salty, but was instead sweet and tangy. Nevertheless it was pleasing, especially when combined with all the other ingredients. The fatty slices of pork, the tender and earthy bamboo shoots, the thin wrinkly seaweed sheet and the rich, soft boiled egg were all delicious. It would’ve been all for nought if the noodles weren’t up to scratch, but the firm, bouncy, slightly wrinkly noodles are easily some of the best ramen noodles I’ve had.

Salt of the earth?

The Lensman was surprised to discover ground pork rather than sliced pork in his miso ramen, although that’s apparently closer to how it’s served in Japan. He was also surprised by the presence of sweetcorn, but that didn’t detract from the noodles which were the same well-made noodles as the ones used in my shio ramen. He enjoyed the cloudy, moreish broth although he clearly had broth envy and declared my shio broth to be even better. Thankfully, neither of our ramen noodle soups were overstuffed with cheap beansprout filler.

Hungry.

Going back for seconds

I had to return to try out the soya ramen, also known as shoyu ramen. This ramen used the same firm, wrinkly noodles, soft egg, tender and earthy bamboo shoots, seaweed nori sheet and fatty pork as the shio ramen. The difference was the lightly cloudy broth which had a lip smackingly tangy and salty soy sauce flavour to it. The salty soy flavour didn’t linger on the palate or cause an extreme case of thirst afterwards, so it’s unlikely the kitchen cheated by using a heap of MSG.

I’ll show you.

For a side dish, I opted for the lotus root slices. The thick pieces somehow managed to be both crisp and soft at the same time and had been sautéed in what I’m pretty sure was rice wine. This gave them a distinctive flavour that’s hard to describe as a non-boozer, but I’ll settle for slightly acidic and tangy as well as a little sweet. My only wish was that the portion was bigger.

Getting back to my roots.

The Verdict

Kirazu isn’t the biggest or most elaborate of London’s ramen restaurants, but it’s easily one of the finest with simple, inexpensive yet tasty ramen that warms the cockles. Tonkotsu is still my favourite type of ramen and is best eaten at Tonkotsu. For other types of ramen however, Kirazu is a fine, fine choice.

Name: Kirazu

Branch tried: 47 Rupert Street, London W1D 7PD

Phone: 020 3356 8900

Web: http://kirazu.co.uk

Opening Hours: Monday-Friday noon-15.00 and 18.00-22.00. Saturday noon-16.00 and 18.00-23.00.

Reservations: not taken

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: £15 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

The Curse of St. Anne’s Court

There’s no shortage of pizza restaurants in Soho and Piccolo Forno is the latest. The small diner has decided to set up shop at 9-12 St Anne’s Court, but this small Soho alley location has been a cursed address for past eateries. Previous occupants such as a ‘permanent’ version of the Pit Stop Café and a lamachun takeaway have all been very short lived.

Although Piccolo Forno only has room for around a dozen covers or so, it’s an attractively minimalist place with whitewashed walls, bare wooden floors and shiny metal light fixtures. Takeaways as well as table service is available and at lunchtimes a pizza and a soft drink can be had for just £6.

Take your pick.

Piccolo Forno started out on wobbly footing when I tried the diavolo pizza only a few days after it had opened. The toppings weren’t too bad with reasonably gooey and creamy mozzarella and sharp onions. The big slices of spicy sausage weren’t spicy at all, but were instead very salty and fatty. The base was not only stodgy and bland but unevenly cooked too, so it was doughy and chewy in some places but hard and crusty in others. Very disappointing.

diavolo es el diablo!

Thankfully the small kitchen had sorted out the problems with its dough when I returned to try out the capriciosa. The evenly cooked base here was soft and fluffy with a crisp crust although it still didn’t have the same depth of character as pizza bases elsewhere. The thick, meaty, salty slices of ham were complimented well by juicy hunks of artichokes, although slightly smaller, more evenly distributed pieces would’ve been better. Whole, sweet olives were scattered about too, but they had a tendency to roll off when you least expected it.

I can never spell ‘capriciosa’ right the first time.

The tomato sauce used in previous pizzas had been unremarkable, but the one used in the crudo pizza was noticeably sweeter than before. It complimented the thin, light and slightly sweet base well, but the base was also too chewy this time around. The toppings were good with unexpectedly thick slices of woody, slightly smoky parma ham and earthy, musky flakes of Grana Padano cheese. It was hard to appreciate these toppings when chewing my way through the base though. I could also have done without the flavourless rocket too.

On a sunny day, take your pizza to the nearby Soho Square. Just watch out for litter and drunken hobo yobs having a fight.

The base changed yet again when I sampled the vegetarian verdure option, swinging back to a style closer to the one used in the capriciosa. The sweet, juicy peppers drowned out the already muted mozzarella and the mushrooms added little. The artichokes were tender and moist, but there wasn’t enough of them. Compared to the meat pizzas that I’d tried, the verdure felt like a vegetarian poor relation.

Lush or rushed?

The Verdict

The pizzas at Piccolo Forno are cheap and they’re better than the similarly priced pies at the nearby Soho Joe. The even quality of the base and toppings leaves a lot to be desired though and while the low prices make it easy to overlook some of these flaws, Piccolo Forno will have a hard time competing against Pizza Pilgrims when it opens its permanent restaurant a short walk away on Dean Street later this year. Until that happens, I’d rather walk a little further and have a pizza at Rosso Pomodoro instead.

Name: Piccolo Forno

Address: 9-12 St Anne’s Court, London W1F 0BB

Phone: none listed

Web: none listed

Opening Hours: Monday – Saturday noon–14.30 and 17.30–22.30

Reservations: not taken.

Average cost for one person including service and soft drinks: £8-10 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Cheerful Continental Covent Garden Comfort Chow

There’s no shortage of mock French-style brasseries and bistros in London from chains such as Cafe Rouge and Cote to independents such as Les Deux Salons. This two floor restaurant is a mere stone’s throw away from Covent Garden, Charing Cross and The Strand. Les Deux Salons is owned by the same people behind the excellent Wild Honey and the very good Arbutus, so my expectations were heightened even though it’s firmly aimed at the pre- and post-theatre crowd where speed and low prices are typically valued more than the quality of the food.

Les Deux Salons is nothing if not a handsome place with soft lighting, dark wood panelling and brass fittings. The upper level has the benefit of the spherical chandeliers forming a dramatic centre piece in the middle of the room. Service was quick and efficient on all four of my visits – I polished off three courses at a leisurely pace, yet still managed to be in and out the door in an hour. If you’re looking for a lively atmosphere then this isn’t the place for you. Although it’s hardly fusty or hushed, the clientèle of tourists and middle-aged theatre goers gives this restaurant a sedate feel.

Why is there never anyone up here?

First things first

The menu at Les Deux Salons is dominated by several crowd-pleasing French classics with a daily special main course that changes every day. On my first visit I started off with mushrooms and a poached egg on toasted brioche. The squidgy mushrooms were earthy and tangy, but the egg, while perfectly cooked, wasn’t quite as rich as I was expecting. There wasn’t enough of the small slip of brioche to go around for soaking up the runny yolk and it wasn’t especially buttery either. Must try harder.

Eating at the bar.

For my main course I opted for the daily special of rabbit which was served in a very mild mustard sauce. Despite its lack of mustardy heat, or perhaps because of it, the sauce enhanced the mildly bitter richness of the spinach. The rabbit wasn’t quite as firm as I would’ve liked, but the the meat was still quite gamey and fell off the bone easily.

Hop.

Crème brûlée is a classic French dessert and while I couldn’t make out the alleged vanilla flavouring, I couldn’t find fault with the crisp caramel crust or the cool, rich and eggy custard base.

The Picky Glutton is listening to Melody Gardot.

Going back for seconds

I’m a big fan of steak tartare, so I had to go back and try out the version at Les Deux Salons. The raw meat was very tender, but I prefer a firmer, bouncier bite. The kitchen had gone a little overboard with the capers which also drowned out the richness of the raw egg. A little disappointing.

A raw deal.

There wasn’t a huge amount of character in my bavette steak (also known as flank steak) cooked medium rare with most of the flavour coming instead from the sweet, tangy shallot sauce. The steak was pink and tender in the middle, although the edges were charred to the point of being well-done. This chewiness made eating some parts of this steak tough going on the jaw. The accompanying frites were unremarkable.

Outflanked.

Fries? Frites? Let’s call the whole thing off.

Although billed as a soft meringue, this dessert was actually very hard and chewy. It was encrusted with an equally unpleasant layer of overly sweet almond pieces. The only thing that made this dessert palatable was the smooth, creamy, eggy custard interior.

Can I send this back?

Third time’s the charm?

France is home to some excellent black puddings. These were naturally off-limits to the inexpensive, crowd-pleasing menu at Les Deux Salons, but the black pudding used here as a starter was still surprisingly good. The sweet, malty slices of soft pudding were a good match for the runny poached egg resulting in a salty, moreish combination that’s more than the sum of its parts.

Black as night?

The easily squeamish and the crushingly dull will be instantly turned off by the pungent earthy aroma of the andouillette. I’m a big fan of this traditional French offal sausage. The soft, wrinkly rolls of offal tasted especially moreish when daubed in the light and tart mustard and pepper sauce. Like the mustard used with the rabbit, it didn’t have much heat but I can forgive this given the already bold flavour of the stinky andouillette.

Close up.

Despite my best efforts, one cannot live on andouillette alone, so I opted for the potato boulangère as a side dish. This light and buttery mixture of thin potato and onion slices was dotted with sweet and herby hints. Very satisfying.

Just a small sample – the rest of the dish comes in a pan all its own.

For dessert, I opted for the pear and almond tart. The pastry was surprisingly thick and crusty with a dense crumb. The almond taste was muted at best, with the sweetness and delicate tartness of the pear chunks dominating. Not a bad dessert, but not an especially memorable one either.

Tart of the day.

Go fourth and multiply

The menu at Les Deux Salons is very meat-heavy with not a lot of choice for vegetarians (as befits a French restaurant). There are a few picks for pescatarians though, such as the  grilled sardines. Each fish was served almost whole so deboning was required, but this wasn’t too difficult. The oily flesh had a light smokiness to it and had an almost non-existent sprinkling of chilli on top. The heat of the chilli was brought out by the small chunks of tart lemon.

I have a bone to pick with you.

I’m a big fan of duck confit, but the version here needs a little refinement. It was a bit on the small side and while it tasted perfectly fine, it wasn’t quite as dense, fatty and moreish as the very best examples of duck confit. The accompaniment of braised butter beans was a little too firm.

Walk in; waddle out.

Rice pudding seems more like a British dessert than a French one. The version here was thick and creamy, but it was also served lumpy and chilled which won’t suit everyone. Resting in the middle was a small dollop of sweet blueberry jam which was interspersed with small pieces of fruit but these varied from chewy to tough.

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She’s crying with all her might and main,
And she won’t eat her dinner – rice pudding again -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

The Verdict

There’s no doubting the speed of the kitchen and the service which benefits both the diner in a rush and the management looking for a quick turnaround of tables to maximise takings. The quality of the food can be surprising variable though ranging from good to flawed but just about satisfactory. Les Deux Salons is far from perfect, but it’s good enough for fast, generally competent continental comfort food in comfortable surroundings. The perfect place to entertain gastronomically timid in-laws visiting from the provinces without spiting your own, more discriminating stomach.

Name: Les Deux Salons

Address: 40 — 42 William IV Street, London WC2N 4DD

Phone: 020 7420 2050

Web: http://www.lesdeuxsalons.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Monday – Saturday noon–23.00 and Sunday 11.00–18.00

Reservations: highly recommended.

Average cost for one person including service and free tap water: £30-40 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

High-tech but low brow food?

London’s restaurant scene is very crowded to say the least, so newcomers often need a gimmick just to get noticed. Inamo’s trick is that instead of ordering via a human waiter, you order using a computer with the screen beamed onto your table from a projector sitting above each table. I was broadly unimpressed with the original Soho restaurant, but I had to see if anything had changed with the second branch near Piccadilly Circus.

Inamo St James is a lot bigger than its forebear with bamboo partitions dividing up the space into cozier blocks that also feel a little more private. The bamboo feels a little cliched for a Japanese/Pan-Asian restaurant, but it serves its purpose.

How do you keep away all the pandas? Wait, what do you mean it’s not real bamboo?!

The technology

The computerised ordering system from the original Inamo has remained virtually unchanged. Simply move the onscreen cursor using the touchpad built into the corner of your table to navigate the menu. Point and click to order food, drinks, request the bill, play a few simple games while you wait and even keep an eye on the kitchen using the fuzzy, low-quality webcam.

Just about legible.

Although the system works well enough and was very stable with no crashing or blue screens of death in sight, the washed out colours and low brightness of the ageing projectors won’t suit those of us with faltering eyesight. The games and other extras feel unnecessary in an age where seemingly everyone has a smartphone. The biggest disappointment is the lack of any real information about the food itself, such as the cuts of meat used or the types and sustainability of the fish used in the sushi and sashimi. Even a basic glossary of Japanese food terms for those unfamiliar with Japanese cuisine would’ve been useful given the inability of the mute automatons posing as waiting staff to answer even the most basic questions.

If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it?

The food

I dined at Inamo St James on a weekday lunchtime with the help of The Youngling. He started off with the squid and spring onion Dim Sum, although the thin and supple scrimped skins bore of a resemblance to typical Japanese gyoza. The smooth, overly-processed paste-like filling only tasted vaguely of squid though and this weak flavour was easily drowned out by the overly sweet mango and chilli dipping sauce.

Dim Sum my arse.

The battered baby prawns were better. The small balls of fresh prawn meat were covered in a light, crisp batter that was free of excess oil although the light dusting of chilli powder was so light that it might as well not have been there.

Popcorn prawns.

I started off with the eight-piece set of nigiri sushi. The rice rolls tended to fall apart very easily and the selection of fish was unremarkable. The salmon, tuna and sea bass were rather limp. The only exception was the last delicately meaty, fatty roll of fish that I couldn’t quite identify.

Were they out of good tuna at Billingsgate today?

I’m pretty sure this was sea bass, but it was hard to tell given how limp and bland it was.

Throw it back.

What is this? Answers on the back of a postcard.

For his main course, Youngling opted for an assortment of vegetable tempura. The sweet potato stood out the most, but Youngling found some of the batter to be doughy and a little undercooked in places. I found the batter to be lacking in character, but at least it wasn’t excessively oily and was reasonably crisp.

Fry up.

I enjoyed the firm, meaty and smooth texture of the satisfying but light black cod, although the marinade was a little too sweet for my liking.

The black cod of the family.

It’s just a flesh wound!

I paired the black cod with a side dish of spicy aubergine. There wasn’t any heat at all though and the individual squishy soft slivers of egg plant were far too oily.

I’ve struck oil!

I wasn’t expecting much from the vanilla crème brûlée, but I was pleasantly surprised. Although the caramelised crust was only moderately crisp and the alleged flavours of lemongrass and strawberry were mild at best, the creaminess and the smooth, soft, almost wispy texture of the custard base was pleasing.

I remember the half-arsed Modern European restaurant that used to be on this site. Now it’s a half-baked Pan-Asian restaurant.

The selection of ice creams apparently changes on a daily basis. I couldn’t quite place the three flavours used here which may have included nutty black sesame and a fruit-based one such as yuzu or lychee, but none of them were too heavy or excessively sweet and had clean aftertastes.

Hodor likes ice cream.

The Verdict

Despite the roomier Piccadilly location, at its core the St James branch of Inamo isn’t that different from the Soho original – so much so that it’s clearly an attempt at forging a chain. Once you get past the thin gimmick of the computer ordering system, the food is hit and miss with some good dishes mixed in with some very mediocre ones. Well-heeled families with kids and easily impressed WAGs and tourists may enjoy Inamo St James, but everyone else should eat elsewhere. There’s no shortage of Japanese restaurants in London that are consistently good from the budget to the more expensive.

Name: Inamo St James

Address: 4-12 Lower Regent Street, London SW1Y 4PE

Phone: 020 7484 0500

Web: http://www.inamo-stjames.com/pc/

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday noon-15.00 and 17.00-23.00. Friday-Saturday noon-00.30. Sunday noon-22.30.

Reservations: probably a good idea.

Average cost for one person including soft drinks: £30-55 approx.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

The Lukin – winnin’ or pukin’?

There are plenty of pubs serving food in Fitzrovia and The Lukin is one of them. Sat within spitting distance of the BT Tower, it’s  a popular watering hole and lunchtime spot for local residents and office workers alike. I found it to be a merely middling experience though following my weekday lunchtime visit with Templeton Peck, Resume and Socialist Worker.

I started off with the scotch egg which was almost large enough to be a meal in of itself. The whopping big egg was quartered, grease-free and covered in a mildly crisp coating. Sadly, the smooth sausage meat was bland and the egg was hard boiled. It wasn’t awful, but it can’t compared to scotch eggs available elsewhere.

Oddly, Fortnum and Mason claim to have invented the scotch egg.

The same could be said about Templeton Peck’s fish and chips. The golden batter was fluffy, but also a little too oily. The anonymous slab of cod was fine, but hardly anything to write home about. The most notable thing about The Lukin’s version of this pub classic was the chips which were actually skin-on potato wedges.

I’ve never seen the attraction of fish and chips.

Socialist Worker went against my advice and opted for the burger. I didn’t expect The Lukin’s burger to compare well against the best burgers in London and it didn’t. The odd spherical shape of the patty meant this burger had to be eaten with a knife and fork. The patty was made from a moderately coarse grind, but it was a little too chewy and bland as well despite the excessive coating of cheese. It was cooked done to well-done, so any character the beef may have had was lost. The best thing that could be said about the accompanying fries was that they were free of excess oil.

I wonder what burgers are like in Hamburg.

Hopefully better than this.

Resume was slightly taken aback at the size of her pork chop and I had to help her eat the thing. Despite its epic proportions, it was surprisingly lean. However, apart from a slight hint of sweetness, it was an unremarkable hunk of pig.

Up for the chop.

I was underwhelmed by my salad of smoked chicken, black pudding and mango. The strips of smooth and lightly smoked chicken were accompanied by generously large slices of mango, thick chunks of bland, overcooked black pudding and some bitter leaves. The chicken and mango were the more successful elements of this salad, but they didn’t really work well together to form a coherent whole.

Try harder.

The Verdict

The Lukin is a very average food pub. It’d be fine as a fall back option when you can’t get into somewhere better, except its inexplicable popularity makes booking a table almost a necessity. There are far worse food pubs in London, but that’s little consolation if you find yourself faced with the mediocrity of The Lukin.

Name: The Lukin

Address: 4 Conway Street, London W1T 6BB

Phone: 0207 323 5965

Web: http://thelukin.com/TheLukin/welcome.html

Opening Hours: Monday – Friday 11.00-23.00. Saturday and Sunday, private functions only.

Reservations: highly recommended.

Average cost for one person including soft drinks: £15-20 approx. 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Fuel up at breakfast or brunch

The area around Kings Cross station is slowly being regenerated and while some will miss the area as it was before, I won’t be one of them. The grotty, run-down, whore-strewn Kings Cross of yesteryear can’t disappear fast enough. One of the highlights of the new Kings Cross is Caravan in Granary Square, a short walk north of the station.

Caravan’s dining room is spartan, but spacious and airy with seriously comfy seats. Although the service is slowly improving, the key word here is ‘slowly’. Waiting 15 minutes for my order to be taken is not my idea of a good time. Although Caravan serves lunch and dinner as well as breakfast, my interest is in the first meal of the day as there are few other interesting breakfast options in the Kings Cross area.

Jalapeño corn bread topped with fried eggs, black beans and peppers might sound a little overwhelming for breakfast, but it was actually a nicely balanced dish. The mildly spicy and nutty corn bread had actual corn kernels in it, while the grease-free eggs and firm, nutty beans made for a moreish topping. It may be a spin on eggs on toast, but it’s a good spin.

You are so corny.

Poached eggs on sourdough toast is a classic, but classics can be improved upon. Here, the runny eggs were joined by a coarse, creamy and flavoursome aubergine purée. This combination was complimented nicely by tart, creamy yoghurt and slices of smooth, salty beefy sausage. An excellent dish.

Aubergine needs to turn up in breakfasts more often.

Coconut bread with lemon curd might sound more like a dessert, and while this dish was a little sweeter than most breakfasts, it was still a savoury delight. The distinctly flavoured, yet light and crumbless coconut bread was topped with a thick, creamy, sour and zesty curd. The flavour of the poached rhubarb was a little muted, but the squidgy, fleshy strands were still a good counterpart to the tart curd. A very satisfying breakfast.

Sweet.

No breakfast is complete without coffee, if only because I’ll start suffering from withdrawal symptoms. I’ve had Caravan’s flat white before and it’s still just as good. The thin, smooth and silky head conceals a chocolatey, lightly smoky and strong coffee. It’s not quite the best flat white I’ve had in London, but it’s still a good ‘un.

Coffee! Oh glorious coffee!

The Verdict

The food and coffee at Caravan is very good indeed. It’s a great breakfast spot that’s well worth visiting, even if it’s a little out of your way, despite the lethargic service.

Name: Caravan Kings Cross

Branch tried: Granary Building, 1 Granary Square (off Goods Way), London N1C 4AA

Phone: 020 7101 7661

Web: http://www.caravankingscross.co.uk

Opening Hours: Breakfast available Monday-Friday 08.00-11.30. Similar brunch menu available on weekends.

Monday-Tuesday 08.00-22.30. Wednesday-Thursday 08.00-23.00. Friday 08.00-midnight. Saturday 10.00-midnight. Sunday 10.00-16.00.

Reservations: not necessary on weekdays; highly recommended at weekends

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: £11-15 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Bar-gain or bar-baric? (Sorry.)

I’ve eaten at and written about the Hawksmoor mini-chain of steakhouses at length before on this blog. What makes Hawksmoor so interesting, apart from the sheer quality of most of the dishes, is that each branch is a little different from the others. For example, the Air Street branch does some excellent seafood dishes in addition to steak, while the Guildhall branch does a stonking breakfast. The Spitalfields branch is the original and one of its distinguishing features is it handsome bar which has a unique steak-free menu all its own. I’ve dined at the Spitalfields bar before, but a new menu necessitated a new visit with the aid of Templeton Peck and Vicious Alabaster.

I don’t drink, but Templeton Peck does and he chose the Marmalade Cocktail as his tipple for the evening. He enjoyed the concoction of gin, lemon, campari and marmalade. The generous splash of gin gave it a real punch, although Templeton still wished for more. It also genuinely tasted of marmalade – slightly bitter with a bit of a tang.

No Paddington, get off the sauce!

I opted for my favourite non-alcoholic Hawksmoor drink – the cornflake milkshake. A cool, intensely sweet and milky replica of that delicious puddle you find at the bottom of a bowl of cornflakes. Only a moron would turn his nose up at this beauty.

Sweetheart.

Templeton Peck and Vicious Alabaster engaged in a staggering level of gluttony that astonished even me. They started off with the ox cheek nuggets. The smooth crumbed, oil-free balls each had a filling of tender, earthy and meaty ox cheek and creamy, melted cheese. A moreish way to start a meal or an evening of drinking.

Partially Devoured. Think of them as a poor man’s Prairie Oysters if you like.

The dynamic duo moved onto the chilli cheese dog.  Vicious Alabaster in particular seemed taken with the thick, hearty, meaty weiner and its smoky moistness. Templeton also enjoyed it, but didn’t think much of the slimy chilli goo which didn’t have much heat to it.

Partially devoured.

Templeton’s favourite dish of the evening was the cheeseburger. The smoothly ground patty was sweet, moist and tangy. It was smaller than the burgers at other Hawksmoors, but that also made it more manageable given the amount of food he was shovelling down his gob. Sorry folks, no photo of this one.

Vicious Alabaster is from Canada, so she was especially giddy about was the poutine – a Québécois dish of chips covered in cheese curds sourced, in this case, from Neal’s Yard. She was disappointed by the absence of gravy, a traditional poutine topping, but pleased by the addition of pig’s head meat. Although the soft floppy chips are a necessary departure from Hawksmoor’s usual super-crispy triple-cooked chips, they were still the least interesting part of this dish, merely providing a bed of carbs for the tender, flavoursome pork and the creamy curds which had an almost mozzarella-like elasticity. Filthy but lovely.

Pout for poutine.

Both Vicious Alabaster and I had our own ox cheek French dip sandwiches as we’re incapable of sharing. Imagine the filling of the ox cheek nuggets, but in a sandwich, and you have the right idea. The soft and fluffy bun stayed out of the way, letting the meat and the creamy, viscous cheese take centre stage. The earthiness of the tender slices of ox cheek was enhanced by the sticky gravy. Excellent.

The gravy (or is it a jus?) is on the side in a jug. Dip as required.

I wasn’t expecting the pulled pork bun to be as accomplished as a pulled pork dish from a good, dedicated barbecue restaurant, but it was surprisingly good. The fruity sauce mixed into the tender stands of pig enhanced their porkiness. Although the meat wasn’t very smoky, the tart and sharp topping of onions complimented the pork surprisingly well.

Too old to die young now.

The smashed cucumbers and watermelon turned out to be a much need refresher and palate cleanser after all that meat and cheese. Actually cubed rather than smashed, the sweet watermelon and oddly peppered but pleasing cucumbers did their job nicely.

HULK SMASH!

We somehow managed to make room for dessert, even after all that meat. Vicious Alabaster went for the sticky toffee sundae. I usually avoid sundaes, since they’re often little more than fodder for kids – layers of cold sweet nonsense topped by even more layers of the same difference. I should’ve had more faith in the kitchen though – the thick, treacle-like toffee was a delight, as was the malty, tangy taste of the cake chunks and crumbs. Even the ice cream was well-chosen – its clean, pure after taste providing a neat antidote to all that heavy sweetness.

Winter’s edge cuts you like a knife.

Both Templeton Peck and I had the peanut butter shortbread served with salted caramel ice cream. Surprisingly, the saltiness came not from the mildly sweet caramel-flavoured ice cream but from the warm and soft yet densely crumbed shortbread. Both combined delightfully with the dollop of thick, treacly caramel, the crunchy peanuts and a hint of chocolate. Although it’s a deconstructed Snickers bar, it’s a very good deconstructed Snickers bar using well-balanced textures and flavours to provide a sweet nostalgic kick.

Marathon.

The Verdict

In a remarkable and spooky display of subconscious culinary group think, all three of us managed to order to a theme – meat and cheese. Although partially due to our shared culinary prejudices, it’s also due to the meat and cheese bias of the menu at the Hawksmoor Spitalfields Bar. Although the food is slightly messy with meat juices dribbling everywhere, this only adds to the convivial fun. It’s not cheap for bar food though, but it’s also far superior to the drab, dreary selection of olives, hummus, ‘tempura’, crudites and mini ‘burgers’ at other bars. Heartily recommended.

Name: Hawksmoor (bar, Spitalfields branch)

Address: 157a Commercial Street, London E1 6BJ

Phone: 020 7426 4856

Web: http://thehawksmoor.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Monday – Thursday 17.30-23:00, Friday 17.30-midnight, Saturday noon-midnight, Sunday noon – 23:00

Reservations: highly recommended.

Total cost for one person including drinks: £40 approx. (A 50% off promotion is currently in effect until the end of June 2013. The price quoted here is what we would pay normally.)

Rating: ★★★★★

Vegetarian Monday is not going well

Some people actually quibble over the size of the bacon bit on top.

Chewy bacon bits dotted throughout the soft fluffy sponge. Salty meat + salted caramel + vaguely maple syrup flavoured icing = gimmick. It’s a fun, filthy gimmick though.

Available for a limited time only, so the question is:

-The Picky Glutton

A party in my mouth or a damp squib?

I’ve never seen the appeal of Nando’s. As far I’m concerned the seemingly ubiquitous chain serves unremarkable but acceptable chicken. My occasional dining companion Snoop Dogg explained Nando’s to me as ‘comfort food in grown up surroundings with booze’ which I can sort of understand. It’s hard not to think of Nando’s when eating at Galeto, a new restaurant serving Brazilian-style roast chicken on Dean Street in Soho.

Split over two floors, Galeto occupies the premises formerly taken by an old Italian restaurant. It’s a brightly decorated place with some big tables, but the restaurant was almost deserted on my Friday lunchtime visit with Templeton Peck, Resume and Socialist Worker. Not a heartening sign. The service was friendly, helpful and quick.

I keep mistyping Galeto as ‘gelato’.

I started off with skewers of chicken hearts coated in farofa. The small, firm little organs had a taste and texture highly reminiscent of pig kidneys with an added garlicky, buttery flavour. Not bad.

I will burn the heart out of you.

Both Templeton Peck and I opted for the eponymous galeto – half of a small roasted chicken served with your choice of sauce and fries. The chicken was deeply unremarkable. It was also a bit greasy, but not unpleasantly so. The supple skin had a very subtle hint of herbs to it, but it’s easily missed. Most of the taste came from the sauces. My coriander sauce actually tasted very strongly of the herb, but Templeton’s tropical fruit barbecue sauce was a forgettable melange of sweetness. The fries were bitty on the inside and floppy on the outside. I’d have preferred proper chips, but I guess that wouldn’t be very Brazilian.

This seems more like a quarter chicken then a half to me.

Socialist Worker went for the burger cooked medium rare which turned out to be surprisingly decent. The smoothly ground patty was moist and lightly seasoned. It was a little chewy, but tender overall with a mild beefy tang to it and the bun held it all together quite well. It’s a pretty good burger, if a touch small, but it can’t compare to the excellent burgers available from the nearby Honest Burgers and Burger and Lobster.

Is this really what burgers are like in Brazil? Really?

Resume decided to be different and chose the seafood special – pan-fried prawns served with a side salad dressed in garlic and olive oil. Resume thought there was far too much oil and the garlicky flavour was a little underwhelming. Although cooked in their shells, she was unimpressed with the slightly squidgy texture and their muted taste.

Heroes in a half shell?

I was the only one who went for a dessert and I wish I hadn’t. If the bland, soft mini doughnuts and insipid vanilla ice cream hadn’t been bought from the Tesco up the road, then I’d be very surprised.

Tesco called. They want their crap doughnuts back.

The Verdict

The food at Galeto is a very mixed bag with some decent dishes mixed in very some disappointing ones. The biggest let down is the deeply average flagship roast chicken. When you can rustle up something better at home, then something has gone deeply wrong. Galeto is only really worth visiting if you can’t get a table at somewhere else better or you’re a late eater.

Name: Galeto

Address: 33 Dean Street, London W1D 4PW

Phone: 020 7434 1409

Web: http://galeto.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Monday – Thursday noon-23.30. Friday – Saturday noon-midnight. Sunday noon-22.30.

Reservations: not taken.

Average cost for one person including soft drinks: £15-20 approx. 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Small shiny seafood shack serves salty sustenance

It’s fascinating what you’ll find in the back streets of London. Bonnie Gull is a seafood restaurant located on Foley Street, a quiet street located in a slice of city in between the thoroughfares of Oxford Street and Great Portland Street. The place has been done up to resemble a humble seaside shack – all wooden planks with a dash of nautical kitsch lining the walls. Bonnie Gull has replaced Back to Basics, an older seafood restaurant, at the same address but there’s no relation between the two as far as I can tell.

Service on both of my visits was friendly and helpful, if a little slow.

First things first

Gulls are noisy beasts, but that hasn’t stopped their eggs from popping up on the menus at a few select London restaurants, including Bonnie Gull’s. The small, soft boiled egg was very mildly salty and the runny orange yolk was slightly tangy, but it wasn’t dramatically different from a hen’s egg. The yolk did make for good dunking with the accompanying toast and stems of tender, fresh asparagus though.

Egg on my face.

Far more satisfying were the firm, plump and salty fresh razor clams. They’re easily some of the meatiest razor clams I’ve had in London so far.

Some of the best razor clams I’ve had in London.

Pairing scallops with pork belly sounds like cheating of the highest order. As expected, the clashing flavours of the scallops and the pork belly didn’t compliment each other well at all. Still, when taken on their own they were very tasty indeed. The tender strands of belly oozed with rendered fat and were topped with crispy, slightly hard crackling. The scallops were soft, creamy and very fresh. The less said about the so-so potatoes and apple sauce though, the better.

Hmmm, I’m sure I could’ve framed this shot better. Ho hum.

Bonnie Gull’s beef dripping chips aren’t quite as good as the version at Hawksmoor, but they’re still good. Although the internal texture was a little inconsistent with some thick and fluffy and others far more bitty and oily, the crisp, golden exterior was a delight.

You can’t escape red meat, not even at a seafood restaurant.

Going back for seconds

The menu at Bonnie Gull changes frequently depending on what’s fresh, so it’s rarely exactly the same. On my second visit I started off with some small but juicy clams bathed in a thin but rich sauce that tasted strongly of butter and garlic. Simple, but lip smacking.

Happy as a clam.

I was pleasantly surprised by the grilled mackerel. The light and tender fish didn’t have the characteristic oiliness and strong aftertaste of that fish, but was still unmistakably mackerel. It was complimented nicely by juicy, sweet tomatoes and some silky mushrooms that had an unusual but pleasing acidic tartness due to the fact that they had been pickled.

Fishing for compliments.

The tangy, moreish spinach purée accompanying the hake was a little too bold for that light, tender and milky fish. The purée was just right though for the mildly salty and nutty cakes of potato and almond mash. It’s just a shame all the elements of this dish didn’t quite come together as one coherent whole.

You can’t fake a good hake.

The lemon curd tart proved to be a good way of finishing things off. The smooth, soft and boldly zesty tart had a caramelised crust, similar to the one you’d find on a good crème brûlée. The combination of contrasting textures and punchy lemoniness was a delight. The icy sorbet tasted little of blood oranges, but it did help cut through the strong aftertaste of the tart, cleansing the palate.

Does Clive Swift like lemon curd tarts?

The Verdict

Bonnie Gull isn’t quite perfect with some missteps here and there, but it’s still a damn fine seafood restaurant that’s a must-visit.

Name: Bonnie Gull

Branch tried: 21A Foley Street, London W1W 6DS

Phone: 0207 436 0921

Web: http://www.bonniegull.com/

Opening Hours: seven days a week noon-22.00.

Reservations: essential

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: £50 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆