Nydalen Bryggeri & Spiseri, Oslo – Restaurant Review

Over the last year or so Oslo has seen some great new restaurant openings. Although there's still a long way to go before Oslo catches up with its Scandinavian neighbours, it's finally starting to feel like Oslo is getting a restaurant scene befitting its status as Norway's capital. One very recent addition to the city's dining scene is Nydalen Bryggeri & Spiseri that opened in Oslo's Nydalen neighbourhood in August 2013.

Running Nydalen Bryggeri are the team behind Oslo's Amundsen Brewery who have turned the site of a former Bølgen & Moi restaurant into a vast temple to zythology (yeah, I had to look that one up too), serving a wide variety of beers as well as robust fare for lunch and dinner, with many of the dishes made with their own beer.

Roganic, London – Restaurant Review

Of course, by now you probably all know about Roganic, the London restaurant of Simon Rogan, head chef and owner of the Michelin-starred L'Enclume in Cumbria. Since its opening last summer, Roganic has quickly become one of the darlings of the London restaurant scene. The reviews of the restaurant's particular brand of modern British cuisine have been glowing, and following a recent dinner there, the praise is totally deserved – Roganic dished up one of the best meals I've had in London.

However, it's all change at Roganic now. Head chef Ben Spalding recently made the surprising announcement that he was leaving less than a year into the restaurant's 2-year "pop-up" run. In addition to Spalding's departure, Roganic's front of house team lead by Jon Cannon and Sandia Chang is also changing, with Jon moving to the L'Enclume flagship up north and Sandia starting a new London venture involving hot dogs and champagne.

Café Laundromat, Oslo – Restaurant Review

As far as ideas go, putting together a laundry, restaurant, library, café, and bar under one roof isn't an obvious one, but Oslo's Café Laundromat does just that. It's an ingenious concept that first started in Copenhagen in 2004 and came to Oslo in 2010. I must admit I had high hopes for Café Laundromat – all-day dining places are as rare as hens' teeth in Norway, and there was something about the quirky style of this place that just felt right.

2011: My Ten Dishes of the Year

The year is rapidly drawing to a close and, as usual, I'm left scratching my head wondering where all the time has gone. One of my favourite things about writing a food blog is that you have a handy diary of memorable food experiences to look back on – something tangible like photos and words, something other than the ever rising numbers on the bathroom scales. Looking back at 2011 I've been lucky to have experienced some truly wonderful food, and it's good fun to look back and relive some of those memories.

Of course, what good would a year-end post be without that hackneyed favourite of work-shy journalists the world over? Yes folks, it's time for a top ten list! I did a similar post last year and really enjoyed the exercise of reminiscing over some fantastic meals, so I thought I'd repeat the process.

Young Turks at The Ten Bells, London – Restaurant Review

Let me begin this post with a little disclaimer. Way back when I was young and carefree and 5kg 10kg lighter, me and John and a couple of other friends bought a ramshackle East End boozer that was on its last legs. It was a complete and utter dive; the place was filthy with the windows coated in a seemingly impregnable patina of grime, and the rooms on the floors above the main bar were so dishevelled the place looked more like a crack house than a public house. The typical customer was some old dodgy looking bloke and evening entertainment consisted of "exotic dancers."

Hibiscus, London – Restaurant Review

Hibiscus has been on my radar screen for ages, yet every time I considered making a booking I ended up opting for another restaurant. I don't know why this was the case as on paper Hibiscus looks like a solid member of the two-Michelin star restaurant club and seems like as good a place as any when you're looking for a luxurious and special dining experience in London. So to celebrate a good friend's birthday recently I knew exactly where we'd go for dinner.

Breakfast at The Riding House Café, London – Restaurant Review

Since moving to Norway, one of the quintessentially British things I've missed most is a proper fry-up. The full English breakfast done well is truly a thing a beauty on the plate; fried eggs quivering, sausages steaming, bacon glistening ... arteries hardening. It's certainly (and literally) not for the faint-hearted but, oh my, what a way to start the day! And it is a singular treat that I save only for those occasions when I am back in dear old Blighty.

Bob Bob Ricard, London – Restaurant Review

The bar at BBR

Bob Bob Ricard has been a darling of the blogosphere since it opened at the end of 2008. I had moved to Norway a few months earlier so missed out on its quirky blend of British and Russian food. Nevertheless I vowed to pay it a visit one day. So when I was tasked with organising a boys' night out with four of my closest friends from university, BBR was at the top of my list.

Pollen Street Social, London – Restaurant Review

The irony of going to a restaurant called Pollen Street Social alone is not lost on me. But needs must and the chance to eat at Jason Atherton's first solo project – one of the most anticipated openings of the year – was not to be missed. So it was that on an atypically glorious April afternoon in London I found myself at Pollen Street Social, nestled in a narrow side street just off bustling Regent Street.

The Sportsman, Seasalter – Restaurant Review

The last few weeks have been fairly quiet on the blog front. I've really wanted to write, but every time I try and put digital pen to digital paper the words just don't seem to form, and the letters remain jumbled and stubbornly stuck in my mind like some tin of Alphabetti Spaghetti. The main reason for this is a trench of work-related crap that I'm wading through at the moment, enveloping me in alternating clouds of ennui and worry. I'm not going to drag this blog off topic, or into a melancholy funk, so that's all I'll say for the time being. So, deep breath, Zen thoughts, and time to transport myself to a happier place by reminiscing over a wonderful lunch I had at The Sportsman pub on the windswept coastline near Whitstable in Kent.

The Nibbler family had rented a house with some friends in Whitstable for the New Year festivities, and we decided to see out the last day of 2010 with lunch at The Sportsman, a short drive away. The journey alone was memorable enough – an exposed coastal road that meanders into increasing remoteness. I had to check the GPS a couple of times to make sure I was headed in the right direction, and just as I thought we had passed the last traces of civilisation, there it appeared, a somewhat shabby, whitewashed pub. Despite our early lunchtime booking, a sign in the window reassuringly proclaimed the restaurant to be fully booked for the day, so be warned if you plan on dropping by unannounced as it looks like you have to do the very un-pub like thing and reserve well in advance. The interior of the pub is fairly spartan with wooden flooring and unadorned wooden tables throughout, but the atmosphere is friendly and welcoming. A crackling fire radiated cosy warmth and our mouths began to water as we gazed at the day's menu chalked up on a blackboard next to the bar.

Brothers Stephen and Philip Harris took over The Sportsman pub in 1999 with financial backing from their music producer brother Damian. Philip was tasked with running the bar, while Stephen set about running the kitchen. The family link continues with Emma, Stephen's partner, managing the front-of-house. Remarkably, Stephen is entirely self-taught as a chef, learning his craft by eating his way through the menus of some of the world’s top restaurants. His initial inspiration for The Sportsman came from a meal he had at Chez Nico, Nico Landenis’s legendary London restaurant, which at the time held two Michelin stars. The idea was to bring that rarefied level of cooking to a pub; Michelin-standard food, without the Michelin-standard snobbery perhaps. Their efforts were recognised when, in 2008, Michelin awarded The Sportsman one of their coveted stars.

The Sportsman offers a tasting menu that is only available on weekdays if you order in advance. Disappointingly, although this was a Friday, the tasting menu was not on offer – I suppose New Year's Eve should probably count as a weekend on a technicality. Anyway, we needn't have been disappointed as the à la carte menu listed more than enough tempting dishes to keep us happy. Harris's focus is very much on sourcing or producing quality local produce and treating it kindly and intelligently. Each dish therefore is a showcase for local ingredients, and it was so exciting to think of such a thing as the 'Kent terroir', a place I had only ever, to my shame, associated with apples and oysters.

To begin we were offered bread. Not usually something to fawn over, The Sportsman’s offering was staggeringly good. Crumbly soda bread bursting with sweet malt notes, dense chewy sourdough, and soft rosemary focaccia were as good as any I’ve ever had. The accompanying house-made salted butter was luxurious in its richness, and even the salt used was special, it being made with seawater from just across the road.

For starters I chose the simply-titled pork terrine (£7.95). What arrived was a thick slab of coarsely cut pork speckled with herbs and elegantly wrapped in cabbage. This was served with apple mustard, pickles, toasted bread, and the most obscenely good pork crackling. The meat was sublime and is sourced from nearby Monkshill Farm, part of The John Townsend Trust, a charity set up to help deaf children. From start to finish this dish was pure bliss.

My friends started with pickled herring and cabbage salad (£5.95) that glistened with freshness, and poached rock oysters with pickled cucumber and Avruga caviar. I wasn’t quick enough to take a snap of the latter, and it had been wolfed down by the time I had fired up my point-and-shoot.

For his main course my friend went for roasted goose (also from Monkshill Farm) served with mashed potatoes, hazelnuts and apple sauce (£18.95). It looked a bit of a mess on the plate, but my friend reported it to be excellent. My eldest daughter, Little Miss Nibbler, had opted for tagliatelle carbonara (not pictured), which she loved. I tried a bit of this and was impressed with the quality of the pasta; thin, bouncy ribbons with a perfect chewy texture.

Meanwhile, I had chosen seared Thornback ray with brown butter, cockles, and a sherry vinegar dressing (£18.95). Accompanying this was a separate plate of mashed and boiled potatoes. Skate wings have to be one of my favourite pieces of fish, and here they were served simply, but flawlessly. A thick piece of wing had been cooked perfectly, its flesh coming away in long juicy strands. It sat atop a mound of wilted spinach and came with the classic addition of nutty beurre noisette, whose richness was cut by a sherry vinegar dressing. The dish's crowning glory was a sprinkling of tiny cockles. It wasn't so long ago that the only cockles you could find in Britain were those drowned in vinegar and cheap white pepper, the majority of them having been exported to France or Spain. To see these little bivalves sitting proudly on the plate waving the flag for British seafood made me very happy indeed.

For dessert I had cream cheese ice cream served with pear purée, meringue and crumble crumbs (£6.95). This was one of those dishes where each component seems ordinary in its own right, but when combined creates a stunning confluence of flavours. The cool freshness of the ice cream went so well with the slightly tart purée, and the meringues and crumble added just the right amount of sweetness and texture. This was a very well thought out dish that was executed perfectly.

However, I suffered a serious case of food envy when my friends’ desserts arrived as they had gone for the warm chocolate mousse (£6.95). In their benevolence they let me taste some. I can safely say my search is over – the best chocolate mousse in the world is right here, in Kent! Fluffy folds of airy, but powerful chocolate mousse sat on a layer of salted caramel sauce, the sweet intensity of the combination tempered by a mild milk sorbet. I don't usually do chocolate for dessert, but this was the stuff of warm fuzzy dreams.

Lunch at The Sportsman was a truly singular pleasure. This meal would also mark another special occasion: my 4-year-old daughter’s first experience of a Michelin-starred restaurant. Although Michelin is certainly not the ultimate arbiter of culinary excellence, the fact that virtually all professional chefs (at least in Europe) regard recognition by Michelin as the highest accolade speaks volumes. Indeed, within the confines of "modern European cuisine" you know that a restaurant bestowed with one or more of the famous tyre company’s stars will generally serve some remarkably good food. And that is what I wanted Little Miss Nibbler to experience: the magic of exquisite food. I wanted her to marvel at the ritual of eating in a restaurant, to taste food she's never seen the likes of, and for her to see the adults' joy and near reverence of the whole experience.

Some of my earliest memories involve food, and I have vivid childhood recollections of being taken to restaurants by my parents – the wonderment and excitement of it all! Somewhere along the way, whether by familiarity or indifference, this sense of magic gets lost. Lunch at The Sportsman with my daughter brought those happy memories flooding back. The lack of frippery here, so often present in Michelin starred restaurants, allows you to focus solely on the food. It is also this same sense of informality that leaves you totally unprepared for the sheer quality of cooking to come out of the kitchen. As a family affair, the pub really is a labour of love, and this passion for impeccable food and service shines through in everything they do. Eating at The Sportsman was certainly a highlight of the year for me and, judging by Little Miss Nibbler’s broad smile, she seemed to have enjoyed it too.

Food:         8 / 10
Service:      8 / 10
Ambiance:  7 / 10

The Sportsman
Faversham Road
Seasalter
Whitstable
Kent CT5 4BP
Tel: +44 (0)1227 273370

Launceston Place, London - Restaurant Review

I am a relative newcomer to Launceston Place. I first heard of the restaurant when I watched one of their former chefs, Steve Groves, win the BBC's Masterchef: The Professionals 2009 TV show – you know, the one that introduced the fabulous and terrifying Monica Galetti to an unsuspecting world. My interest in the cooking of Launceston Place's head chef, Tristan Welch, was piqued, but it's taken me this long to actually eat there. But as a worried teenage girl might say, better late than never.

Launceston Place has been around for quite a while, feeding Kensington's lunching ladies unremarkably for years. The restaurant was said to be a favourite of the late Princess Diana, whose former home at Kensington Palace is just up the road. In 2007, D&D (formerly Conran Restaurants) bought Launceston Place and embarked on a refurbishment project, installing the then 28-year-old Tristan Welch as head chef in the process. Although young, Welch has cooked at some top restaurants, gaining experience at Aubergine and Le Gavroche in London, and at Alain Passard's legendary three-Michelin starred restaurant, L'Arpège, in Paris. Before starting at Launceston Place, Welch was working at Gordon Ramsay's two-Michelin starred restaurant Pétrus under its then head chef Marcus Wareing. (Update 09.02.12 It was announced that Welch has left Launceston Place and Timothy Allen from the two Michelin-starred Whatley Manor would be his sucessor).

Launceston Place is located in a quiet residential area of Kensington, and inside it feels very intimate and cosy. The restaurant comprises of different rooms, so it never feels crowded. Dark walls and floors add a little moodiness without being overly gloomy, while pristinely laid tables are well-illuminated by strategically placed lights. The odd candle here and there adds a welcome touch of cosiness. It is the quintessential perfect date place (probably not first date, mind) – quiet enough that you can hear each other speak, but with a pleasant surrounding buzz of conversation so you don't have to worry about being overheard.

We're seated promptly and presented with menus for our dinner. The menu here is a showcase for Welch's unique interpretation of British food, and it is a real dilemma choosing from it; everything sounds good. At £58 for six courses, the tasting menu seems like decent value, so we opt for this. The only slight distraction was the fact that given it was still the Alba truffle season, there were white truffles to be had! Sensing my interest, the waiter quickly brought over a fine smelling specimen for me to marvel at. For a suitable supplement you could have truffles sliced over any dish, probably even over yourself if you paid enough. But more on this later.

The first food to arrive was a little snack of spiced crisps, tied together neatly with a ribbon. They looked fantastic and tasted of...erm...crisps.

Next, some bread that was presented with salted butter and pickled herrings, served in a ubiquitous kilner jar. I'm not a fan of pickled herring; all that fishiness and acrid acidity is just wrong. Look, I live in Scandinavia – the home of the pickled herring and source of the best examples – and such is my dislike for them that I avoid them at all cost. So believe me that when I say I was totally stunned by how good the pickled herrings were here, I really, really mean it. Here was a delicious meal in its entirety; soft, plump pieces of mildly pickled herring served with warm, chewy bread, and luxuriously rich butter. Oh là là, what a way to start!

The amuse bouche was next, and this was a sort of deconstructed Waldorf salad. Celery sorbet was served with thin apple batons, candied walnuts, and a dollop of whipped cream. I took a bite and ... fireworks! It was a fantastic mix of these classic flavours; the cool sorbet almost fizzing on your tongue, with fresh tartness from the apples and a touch of sweetness from the candied walnuts. Every mouthful seemed to be accompanied by involuntary chuckles of delight.

You know those Alba truffles I mentioned? Well, it transpired that I may have agreed to have some. Apparently, the previous day's consumption of unholy amounts of white truffles at Hélène Darroze at the Connaught had done nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for more of those pungent white diamonds. We decided to have just one of the courses topped with the Alba madonna for a reasonable £10 supplement each. The obvious dish for this was, of course, risotto. The tasting menu listed a cep risotto with Spenwood cheese, but we were also offered the possibility of having a 'plain' white truffle risotto instead (how can anything with truffles be called 'plain'). In a classic fit of indecision we ordered one of each to share and hedge our bets, which turned out just fine; I got the white truffle risotto and Mrs. Nibbler the cep risotto and n'er the twain would meet, as we were both reluctant to relinquish our plate to the other.

Unlike at Hélène Darroze, here the white truffle was sliced over the risotto tableside. It's such a spectacular piece of culinary theatre, and I will never tire of seeing it. The waiter pulled a trolley over to our table, upon which lay a truffle grater and a solitary Michael Jackson-style white glove (hee-hee, shamone!) He then proceeded to slice oodles of the magical stuff over our risottos. It was, without doubt, the finest risotto I have ever had – rich and creamy with an oh-so-perfect consistency, full of that intoxicating white truffle aroma – I shall be having warm fuzzy dreams about this dish for a long time to come.

The next dish was "West Coast scallop roasted with aromatic herbs from the coastline." A single, but plump scallop had been cooked to perfection and served in its shell with a herb butter sauce. I'm not quite sure what the herbs were, but they apparently change according to what's available at the time. With stunningly fresh seafood such as this, a light touch is required to let those fresh flavours shine, and that's exactly what this dish provided.

Next up was a regular feature on the Launceston Place menu – truffled duck egg on toast. Here, a soft boiled duck egg was served with some grilled bread, truffle purée, and slices of Somerset truffle. I loved the simplicity of this dish, but thought the execution was just a little off target. The duck egg had perhaps been cooked a fraction too long (but I suppose people's preferences vary) and the dish was barely lukewarm when it arrived. Also, while pleasant enough, the Somerset truffles are no match for the pungency of their Italian rivals. Don't get me wrong, though, this was still a very fine dish.

The next course was baked lemon sole, served with shrimps, coastline vegetables and early potatoes. A beautiful fillet of lemon sole was a lesson in how to cook fish, and the accompanying brown butter was a delicious addition. The tiny prawns provided lovely bursts of shellfish sweetness.

For the main course, we chose Tamworth suckling pig, which came served with roasted radishes, potato purée, wild chervil, and an onion purée. A "suckling pig" sauce was then poured over the top tableside. Two different cuts of the pork were served: loin and belly. The former was fork tender, while the latter had a glorious layer of crisp and fatty crackling. This was a perfectly conceived and executed dish. I particularly loved the little thumb-sized radishes, which had a pleasing mild pepperiness to them.

For our pre-dessert, we were served a red wine mousse served with pear sorbet and ginger. Appropriately, given the season, the dish was full of those spicy Christmas flavours such as cinnamon, star anise, ginger and cloves – a fun take on stewed pears.

For dessert we had rice pudding soufflé served with raspberry ripple ice cream. As a nice little touch, the ice cream was presented in a little jam jar, from which the waiter took a scoop and transplanted into the warm soufflé. When I first saw this dish mentioned, I was curious as to how it work; a soufflé should be feather-light, while rice puddings can be pretty stodgy. In the end, the effect was magnificent. The soufflé was spectacularly airy, while still giving your teeth something to chew on. The raspberry ripple ice cream slowly melted into the dish to provide a glorious sauce.

As if we weren't stuffed enough, some mini madeleines were brought out with the coffee. I thought I was too full to have any, but then I took a bite. Oh. My. Goodness! They were powdery soft, yet still moist, their residual warmth releasing a sweet vanilla fragrance across the table. We dipped them in the accompanying pot of cream and ate them in stunned silence. It was a beautiful way to finish the meal.

Based on my meal at Launceston Place, I find it rather bizarre that the Michelin people haven't bestowed this place with one of their stars. OK, Michelin stars are certainly not the ultimate arbiter of quality, but still, this sort of place is exactly the kind that gets starred. Did Tristan Welch say something unkind about Bibendum's weight and hurt his feelings? It's almost as if Michelin have gone out of their way not to star this place. Oh well, the world works in mysterious ways. (Update 27.09.12: Michelin announced that Launceston Place had finally been awarded a star). 

Launceston Place is exactly the sort of local restaurant you'd want in your neighbourhood: small and intimate, and serving exquisite food without costing an arm and a leg. It has just enough fanfare to make it special, but not too much that it becomes a chore to eat there regularly. Judging by the various reviews that have been written in the last couple of years, Welch's cooking and Launceston Place seem to be on a rapid upward trajectory. Surely, as a chef, Tristan Welch is just getting into his stride, and I'd expect even greater things to come from him. Go now, and see for yourself.

Food:         8 / 10

Service:      7 / 10

Ambiance:  9 / 10

Launceston Place

1a Launceston Place

London W8 5RL

United Kingdom

Tel: +44 (0)20 7937 6912