All reader reviews by stevethelipless

Jai Krishna

It’s one of those unwritten rules of eating with men that you can only really go for a curry. With certain men you might risk a trip to St Johns, or Kurz and Lang, or Terroirs, but most men it’s curry or bust. That said, a vegetarian curry is sometimes a tricky subject to breach. Some of my friends just won’t contemplate a meatless meal.

Thankfully, after a trip here a week or so ago with Vegetarian Sarah, i manage to coax a trio of lads along for a Friday night slap-up.

The first great thing about Jai Krishna is the fact that it sits opposite Jacks, a modest looking off licence which stocks a ridiculous selection of beers. To take on a curry with a Goose Island IPA or Liberty in hand is a joy for a Cobra and Tiger-sceptic like myself.

The second great thing about Jai Krishna is the informality of it all. This isn’t a date restaurant. It’s a place you can come with your friends, scribble what you want on a slip of paper, and - eventually, when you’ve caught a member of staff’s attention – hand them your order.

The third great thing about Jai Krishna is the price. We must have polished off about seven curries, two naans, two rice and eight papadams, and i don’t think it came to much over a tenner a head.

The food is largely of a good quality. I can never remember the names of dishes, but our two potato plates were wonderfully spiced and felt like hugs. The spinach and okra dishes were perhaps a little over-salted, but some delicious dal that dribbled off naans, down fingers and eventually into laps more than made up for them.

The fourth great thing about Jai Krishna is that as soon as you step outside you’re within five minutes of two or three decent pubs, to continue the evening.

A good night out for the lads. And judging by the other clientele, a good night out for lasses and couples and families too. A really lovely, unpretentious dining experience.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Overall rating
Food 8 | Service 5 | Atmosphere 9 | Value for money 10

Zucca

There’s a wonderful bit in Joseph O Neill’s Netherland when Vinay, the food critic who spends his evenings careering around the streets of New York trying the plethora of cuisines on offer, begins to question his ability to really understand what he’s eating. ‘I mean, I think this is good baklava’ he says, ‘but what do I know really? How can i be sure?’ (Or more profanity-ridden words to that effect).

Sometimes when spending evenings at various restaurants round London, and particularly writing reviews on this site, I feel the same way.

The hugely refreshing thing with Zucca is the simplicity of the food. All the ingredients are in season, and all of them are cooked with minimum fuss, but clearly impressive palates. Our four anti pastas were all a joy to pick at, the highlights being a delicious plate of Italian ham (the name of which escapes me) and fennel, and the zucca (pumpkin) fritters, which were light, well seasoned, and I expect (given the name) will become a bit of a signature of this place.

The mains were also delightfully simple. My pan fried Halibut with purple sprouting was delicate and light, set off perfectly by a vibrant herb sauce. I ended up though with pigeon envy, my friends roasted bird with polenta and spinach was rich and filling (if a little difficult to eat gracefully, he had more than an air of Dick Dastardly as he chased it across his plate).

My dessert of rhubarb and panna cotta was joyously creamy and vanilla-y, and was perfectly set off by the recommended accompanying wine (I’m no expert on these things, but the staff clearly were). The staff – in fact – throughout were friendly, helpful, and seemed passionate about the venture.

My only complaint would be that – with its opening at 18.30 – it would be difficult to squeeze in dinner here before a visit to either Shunt or The Southwark Playhouse. Which is a shame, because this area needs somewhere for that purpose.

Compared to so many overcomplicated venues through town though, with cooking and ingredients so simple, I always knew what I was eating. And I knew that it was good.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Overall rating
Food 9 | Service 9 | Atmosphere 9 | Value for money 8

Mildred's

You’re a mixed bag Mildreds. Whenever i’ve had the mushroom and ale pie, a deep and smoky brown gunk under a perfect pillow of pastry i’ve thought you were wonderful. And with the excellent mushy peas and a half decent beer on the side, you’ve sometimes seemed like the perfect pre-West End, not horribly overpriced, venture.

But when i’ve strayed away from the pie i’ve been severely let down. It was a good job i was concentrating on wooing someone when i was with you a year ago – rather than the hugely underwhelming curry you served up (my memory suggests there was plum involved, but i’m probably wrong). And i remember ordering the kind of pasta once which aimed at subtle flavours, and ended up tasting of nothing.

I think if i stick to THAT pie though, i’ll keep visiting...

Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Overall rating
Food 7 | Service 7 | Atmosphere 8 | Value for money 6

Marie's Thai Cafe

Sweet Marie’s. Last night was another of numerous visits to your reassuringly shambolic abode. My green curry was simple and delicious, my companion’s panang likewise. Our rice dishes were sizeable steaming mounds. Our spring rolls crisp and hot. And our cups of tea, sugary syrups of brown, were served up in marvellously mismatched mugs.

On a bank of overpriced and underwhelming alternatives, you are my pre-National and my pre-Imax. My pre-Old Vic and my pre-Young Vic.

These weeks its harder to squeeze cheeks onto one of your tables. But for good reason.

Friday, March 05, 2010
Overall rating
Food 8 | Service 9 | Atmosphere 10 | Value for money 9

Boho Mexica

My brother's girlfriend is on a course in Old Street, and following recommendations from both Middle Class Pete and Robin Brunch, i booked a table at Boho Mexica for the three of us. Nobody is here when we arrive, which is worrying.

We select almost at random from across the menu. It will be a night of picking from plates and carving up sandwiches into imperfect triptyches, which, as always happens with brothers, will end with arguments about who gets the 'biggest third'.

The first dish to arrive is the plate of guacamole with tortillas. The former isn't quite fine enough, with large chunks of avocado taking up vast swathes of the bowl. We try to use the tortilla sides to break it up, but their lack of seration gives the dip an almost cornflake crunch topping.

We think they've bought us soup by mistake, but it is our black beans. You almost need scuba diving gear to rescue them from their deep tomato and garlic lagoon.

Thankfully this is a false start.

The 'Carne DF' or rump steak tacos are deliciously marinated, and dance around the mouth. The mushroom tortillas ('sopes') with lettuce and cream are tiny - like volauvents from snooty receptions - but packed with flavour.

Our 'pueco a la Jamaica' - a pork tenderloin in a hibiscus flower sauce - is the most interesting dish of the night. Soaked up by some perfectly executed mash it's like a floral sweet and sour stirfly, that's been whacked in a blender. Which is much better than i make it sound.

The highlights though are unexpected. 'La Pollera' or more simply 'a chicken sandwich' is gorgeous. The bird has apparently been marinaded overnight and is soaking in flavour. The fried plantains, chewy and chargrilled on the outside and sticky and sweet within, are the perfect accompaniment. We order an extra portion of both.

The first beer - a bohemia - is good, but taking on a Michelada, especially with a full bottle of Sol, is perhaps unwise. Of course, me and my brother both soldier through ours, despite not enjoying them, as neither of us wants to be the lesser man and give up.

The restaurant is quiet, which is a shame. Even half full, i imagine it would seem a much more fun place. I'll definitely be back.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Overall rating
Food 8 | Service 8 | Atmosphere 8 | Value for money 7

Tom Aikens

I camped in a place called Moremi Gorge once. It was stunning. A small river trickling at the foot of our campsite. Rocks steepling around us, along which baboons scampered and howled. A perfectly clear sky at night, in which i saw my first - and only thus far - shooting star. The only disconcerting thing were the vultures that circled perilously over our heads for the entirety of our stay. 'Carrion Camping' i'd quipped to my friend Noel. 'I don't get it' he'd said.

This trip came to mind when i recently visited Tom Aikens as a belated christmas present for my mum. The food was stunning. A light foie gras mousse on perfect circles of thin turnip. Pork croquettes that didn't so much melt in your mouth as sublimate (if that is the right word, GCSE chemistry seems a long time ago).

Most amazing though, was my pudding of roasted pineapple and pineapple puree with spiced olive oil. It was, put quite simply, the best thing i've ever eaten. So good, that i giggled with each spoonful. My mum said she hadn't seen me laugh that innocently or purely since i was spoon fed as a baby.

It was just a shame that throughout, an unnecessarily large hoard of waiters circled restlessly. I couldn't take a sip of water without one stepping in and replenishing my glass. Couldn't complete a sentence without one checking that everything was okay. Which reminded me of the gorge. And the vultures. A little bit of solitude and peace might have seen this trump the brilliantly unpretentious Champignon Sauvage for my best ever meal.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Overall rating
Food 9 | Service 6 | Atmosphere 7 | Value for money 8