Mirazur, Menton – Restaurant Review

Perched on a sun-drenched hillside almost straddling the French/Italian border is Mirazur, a jewel of a restaurant with achingly gorgeous views over the azure blue waters of the Mediterranean. It's not often I have a deep, genuine longing to return to a restaurant – there always seems to be somewhere new to try – yet after one incredible lunch at Mirazur, which bordered on perfection, I find myself physically pining for another visit to this remarkable place.

Le Louis XV, Monte-Carlo – Restaurant Review

I was recently in Monaco to indulge in one of my favourite things, namely watching insanely fast cars drive round a track. And when the Formula 1 circus comes to town, there's no better place to watch it than in Monte-Carlo, where the absurd speed and noise of these machines is in stark contrast to the perilously narrow and usually genteel streets of the Principality.

I'd taken an early morning flight from Oslo and was due to meet up with some friends travelling from London on a later flight. So, I landed at Nice airport at noon without a clue as to what I'd do to pass the five hours until the rest of the gang arrived. Of course, with my other passion being food I found myself in the baggage hall hesitantly telephoning the three Michelin-starred Le Louis XV restaurant in Monte-Carlo's Hôtel de Paris to enquire if they possibly, maybe, pretty please had a table for one available for lunch in an hour. The answer, to my amazement, was yes.

Reindeer Calzone – Recipe

Calzones are a great portable dish, but I prefer to eat mine while slumped in front of the TV, remote control in one hand and a cold beer in the other. I tend to save it for when I've had one of those days as there's something very comforting about the crisp, yet chewy dough, combined with the molten hot interior of tomatoes and mozzarella.

Italian tradition dictates that calzones are filled with leftover vegetables, but you can pretty much add anything you like. Here's a little Nordic twist on this classic dish that uses reindeer salami instead of the more popular pepperoni.

Trattoria Popolare, Oslo – Restaurant Review

Trattoria Popolare opened in Oslo's hip Grünerlokka neighbourhood in March 2011 and, as its name suggests, Italian food is the order of the day here. This is the latest project from Oslo restaurateur Nevzat Arikan, whose other ventures include Olympen, Arakataka, and Ylajali. I've eaten at all three of Arikan's other restaurants and, although very different from each other, all impressed me immensely, so I was more than excited to try out his latest offering.

2010: My Ten Dishes of the Year

I sit writing this from a bitterly cold Oslo. Sunshine and warmth seem like a long-distant memory. Walking outside is a somewhat surreal experience as shadowy figures dressed in thick duvet-like jackets shuffle along the half-lit icy pavements. But it's not that bleak really. The winter solstice has just passed, and with it we can slowly expect the daylight hours to get longer and our depleted vitamin D supplies to be replenished. Christmas is just around the corner, and of course we have a fresh new year with all its challenges and delights to look forward to.

Now, what good would an end-of-year article be without some sort of look back at the year gone by? Yes folks, it's time for a clichéd top-ten list! Without further ado, I bring you my ten best restaurant dishes of 2010. Drum roll please.

In reverse order, these are:

10. Caviar with Crab and Shellfish Jelly – Joël Robuchon, Monte-Carlo

What a way to start a meal! A little trompe l'oeil that looks like a whole tin of sevruga caviar is, instead, caviar atop layers of shellfish jelly and sweet crab meat. A perfect blend of flavours – rich, luxurious and a blast to eat, making you feel like a billionaire oligarch. Mwah-ha-haa!

9. Yose Tofu – Yashin, London

This was perhaps the finest tofu I have ever tasted. Served still warm, and barely set, it came with freshly grated wasabi and diced tosazu jelly, whose tart acidity was a perfect complement to the clean and fresh flavour of the tofu. Within seconds, we had scraped the bowl clean, and promptly called the waiter over to order another one. Heavenly!

8. Tartaleta de Chocolate con Cajeta – Topolobampo, Chicago

Second best dessert of the year is from newly Michelin-starred chef Rick Bayless. This titan of Mexican cuisine is a favourite of President Obama and I can see why. This tart consisted of luxurious, silky-smooth, dark Mexican chocolate sat atop a thin layer of soft, gooey cajeta (goats' milk caramel). This ensemble was lightly sprinkled with flakes of salt and encased in crumbly pastry. Accompanying this was a scoop of goats' cheese ice cream, toasted marshmallows, and graham cracker 'gravel'. Who knew chocolate and goats' cheese would go so well together!

7. Mascarpone Cream, Sponge Pudding, Almond Foam, White Truffle from Alba – Hélène Darroze, London

The undisputed best dessert of the year was this innocent looking number from Hélène Darroze at the Connaught. The cool, sweetened mascarpone was offset by a warm, eggy, vanilla sponge pudding. The residual warmth of the rich sponge was just enough to bring out the flavour of the abundant Alba truffle shavings, so that those wonderful aromas enveloped everything. The almonds and oh-so-light almond foam added a touch of perfumed nuttiness and a variation in texture. When combined, the flavours were nothing short of breathtaking – think of it as 'trifle of the gods.'

6. O-toro nigiri – Sushi Dai, Tokyo

I thought I knew sushi until I ate sushi in Japan, and then I realised everything I knew about it was wrong. The main culprit was this simple piece of o-toro nigiri served to me at Sushi Dai in Tokyo's Tsukiji Fish Market. Pristine tuna (bought a few hours before) had a beautiful spider's web of rich marbling. Eating it was such a sensual experience; the cool flesh of the tuna juxtaposed by the perfectly al dente and lukewarm rice. I hardly needed to chew, the buttery tuna just melted on my tongue. Epic.

5. White Truffle Risotto – Launceston Place, London

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.

4. Guinea Fowl – Oscarsgate, Oslo

At this tiny Oslo restaurant, Swedish chef Björn Svensson is performing little miracles with food. Meltingly tender guinea fowl was served with apple purée, beetroot, and potato. Scandinavia on a plate.

3. Flame Grilled Mackerel with Cucumber, Celtic Mustard and Shiso – The Ledbury, London

A classic by The Ledbury's Brett Graham. This is the dish most people rave about. Mackerel can be a tricky fish to tame – its oily fishiness is always in danger of overwhelming the taste buds. Here the fish was cooked to perfection; the core of it was soft, almost sashimi like, while the skin magically retained a smokey crispness. Accompanying this was a little parcel of smoked eel wrapped in a translucent film of cucumber jelly. A lightly pickled cucumber and delicate leaves of shiso and coriander cress added the needed acidity. I was lost for words at how good this dish was – one of the real highlights of the meal. Magnificent!

2. Langoustine with Oyster, Parsley and Seawater Emulsion, and Rye Crumbs – Noma, Copenhagen

In July, I ate at Noma, and the "world's best restaurant" lived up to the hype and more. This dish brought the house down for me. The most perfect langoustine, barely cooked, was placed on a warm basalt stone that was dotted with small pearls of oyster, parsley and seawater emulsion. A purple powder of seaweed was sprinkled over the stone. This was a dish you eat with your hands and we were encouraged to "make art" as we dipped the langoustine in the emulsion. I closed my eyes and felt transported to a beach on a hot summer's day. Simply amazing.

And the winner of the Nordic Nibbler best restaurant dish of 2010 award is ... *opens envelope* ....

1. Black Truffle Explosion, Romaine, Parmesan – Alinea, Chicago

Alinea totally and utterly took my breath away. The level that head chef Grant Achatz is cooking at now is just astounding. Alinea is on another planet altogether. The Michelin gods saw fit to deign this restaurant with three stars in their inaugural guide to Chicago. Every dish of the meal I had there was stunning, but the standout dish for me was a one-bite symphony of flavour called 'Black Truffle Explosion.' A wafer thin ravioli was filled with the most intense warm black truffle broth. It was eaten in one bite, releasing a cascade of unworldly truffle flavours.


This exercise was actually a lot harder than I imagined. The highlight of the year for me was undoubtedly my meal at Alinea, and at least half of the list could easily have been dishes from the newly crowned three-Michelin star Chicago restaurant. But there were lots of other incredible highlights, and looking back I feel very lucky to have been able to sample such wonderful food. I'll be honest, part of me can't wait to see the back of 2010, it's been that sort of year, but looking back at some of the happy memories, maybe it hasn't been so bad after all?

So, what have been the standout dishes of the year for you? What is your top-ten food list of 2010?

Finally, here's wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Alba Truffle Menu at Hélène Darroze, London – Restaurant Review

Oh, mighty tuber magnatum! Sensual and elusive Alba madonna, where do I begin? For you are one of the most enigmatic and hedonistic tastes around. You spend your life underground, to be unearthed by passing dog and his trifolau master. For centuries you have been fêted and fawned over. Legend has it that that you are formed where lightning hits the ground. You are sold for tens of thousands of dollars, ending up at some of the finest restaurants in the world. I am, of course, talking about the exquisite white truffle.

The finest white truffles grow in Alba, a small town in Piedmont in Italy, and their main season runs from early October to late November. Yes, you can find white truffles in other parts of Italy, as well as in Croatia, but none of these have the extraordinarily perfumed pungency of Alba's finest. These truffles are quite possibly one of the most sought after foods in history, commanding a commensurate price; in November 2010, Chinese businessman Stanley Ho, paid a whopping $330,000 for just two Alba truffles – five times the value of their weight in gold.

I am a (sadly infrequent) worshipper at the altar of the white truffle. There are few things that can't be improved by the liberal addition of gossamer thin slices of white truffle. OK, I exaggerate a touch, but the aroma. Oh, the AROMA! A heady and complex mix of wet earth and musk, with notes of toasted nuts, straw and even honey. No two Alba truffles are quite the same, but all possess that intoxicating, almost erotic perfume, and most of the taste of white truffles comes from this bewitching aroma.

So on a recent trip to London, I found myself at Hélène Darroze at the Connaught Hotel on a mission to try their Alba truffle tasting menu, which they offer for lunch and dinner during the peak of the truffle season. Darroze's pedigree is impeccable. She worked as Alain Ducasse's right hand lady at his legendary three-Michelin starred Louis XV restaurant in Monte Carlo before opening her own eponymous restaurant on Paris's Left Bank in 1999. In 2001 she gained her first star, with a second coming in 2003. She subsequently lost one of her two stars in the 2010 version of the famous guide. The Connaught is her second venture and opened in 2008, gaining a Michelin star just one year later (Update: In the 2011 edition of the Michelin guide it was awarded a second star). Obviously she can't be in two places at once, so the restaurant at the Connaught is overseen by the very capable Raphael François, former head chef of Darroze's Parisian restaurant.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Nibbler does not share my enthusiasm for truffles. So on this occasion she made it clear that if I wanted truffles I was on my own. So it was that I arrived for lunch, reading material in hand, at my table for one in the opulent Connaught dining room, resplendent in dark wood panelled walls, heavy starched white tablecloths, and lushly upholstered chairs. I needn't have worried about dining alone, as I struck up a friendly conversation with two delightful ladies at the neighbouring table after they asked to take a photo of the whole truffle that was being presented to me. It turned out they were food bloggers from Japan (Cinq Etoiles and Flyrobin), so we had fun discussing all things food.

I waved away the à la carte menu and went straight for the seven-course Alba truffle tasting menu. Almost instantly a waiter appeared with a plate, lifting its cloche to reveal a beautiful white truffle specimen sitting on a mound of Arborio rice. This was to be my truffle for the afternoon, and I was pleased to meet its acquaintance. Its miraculous aroma hit me instantly and, yes, I did inhale. Deeply. Sadly it was swiftly whisked away into the kitchen where it remained for the entirety of the lunch; there would be no table-side truffle slicing here. All the dishes would be completed in the kitchen which, while ensuring a visually appealing finished product, does rob you of some of the magic in eating white truffles.

First, I was presented with a couple of amuse bouches. A butternut squash velouté was deliciously creamy, although the mint foam it was topped with didn't go with it all. A bread roll of Piedmont peppers was warm, but very dry, like something you'd expect to be served on an airplane. A somewhat inauspicious start then.

Bread was served next and I chose fig bread, which was dense, chewy and everything the Piedmont pepper roll wasn't. It was served with utterly delicious salted and unsalted Normandy butter. I could have happily eaten only these for lunch.

The first course proper was next and with it came my first taste of the Alba madonna. An egg yolk, topped with Lardo di Colonnata (fragrant cured pork fat from Tuscany), and white truffle slices lay in a bowl. The waiter then poured over a country bread velouté with beurre noisette. I pierced the yolk with my spoon, releasing the golden goodness, and took a bite. It was amazing and packed with wonderful flavours of bread and toasted nuts, with the white truffle transforming the dish into something extraordinary.

Next, a dish that I was initially sceptical of – white truffle with seafood. Could this combination of flavours really work? In a word, yes. Tartare of Scottish langoustine was served with hazelnuts from Piedmont, rocket jus, and an intense Alba truffle ice cream. This was an electrifying dish, although maybe the ice cream was a touch too overpowering for the delicate langoustine. I was delighted to see a flash of pink in the tranche of truffle that topped the dish, indicating that it perhaps grew near a poplar tree instead of the typical oak – one of the very best kinds of Alba truffle.

Darroze hails from the Landes region of South West France, which has a heavy influence in her cooking. The next course was escaoutoun, a polenta-like dish made with cornmeal that is native to the Landes. This peasant staple was elevated to haute cuisine by the addition of chicken stock, rich and unctuous Vacherin Mont d'Or cheese, and of course by more slivers of those 'white diamonds'. This dish was so rich and so filling that a little of it went a very long way indeed. But those wonderful flavours of corn, cheese and truffle were as comforting as a great big hug.

Another seafood dish next. This time a Jurassic sized Scottish scallop was served roasted in its shell, with Parmesan 'cappuccino', and white truffle shavings. Again, it was sensational, the salty parmesan acting as a perfect foil to the sweet, succulent scallop, while the white truffles did their ambrosial thing.

The next course left me speechless. Roasted veal sweetbreads were served with Sardinian artichoke, potato gnocchi, and Alba truffle shavings. The whole thing was doused in a foie gras velouté. Oh. My. God. I find that restaurants so often disappoint with sweetbreads, but these were a revelation. A salty, crisp exterior yielded to soft, bouncy, bone-white flesh, its silky texture providing a mild bacon-like flavour. The artichoke was perfectly al dente with a lovely grassy and nutty taste, while the gnocchi was satisfyingly chewy. And the foie gras velouté? Well let's just say that it took every ounce of willpower not to lick the plate clean. This was one dish where the white truffle was definitely playing second fiddle.

On to the cheese course, and probably the most 'ordinary' dish of the meal. A thick slice of double Coulommiers cheese (a creamy cow's milk cheese, not dissimilar to brie) that was stuffed with white truffles from Alba was accompanied by a simple green salad. The potent truffle aroma had permeated the cheese nicely, giving it a wonderful flavour.

The last course was quite possibly one of the finest desserts I've ever had. Layers of mascarpone cream, sponge pudding, Alba truffle, sliced almonds, and almond foam were served in a clear glass. It was jaw-droppingly good. The cool, sweetened mascarpone was juxtaposed nicely by a warm, eggy, vanilla sponge pudding. The residual warmth of the rich sponge was just enough to bring out the flavour of the truffle, so that those wonderful aromas enveloped everything. The almonds and oh-so-light almond foam added a touch of perfumed nuttiness and a variation in texture. When combined, the flavours were nothing short of breathtaking – think of it as 'trifle of the gods'. Amazing.

I finished the meal with a jolting espresso and a selection of petit fours from a trolley containing vast sweet shop-style jars. Salted butter caramel and milk chocolate truffle were fine, but no match for the previous theatrics, while a chocolate and raspberry macaron was unfortunately tough and leaden.

In many ways, this is a somewhat strange restaurant review to write. The real star of this meal was, of course, the Alba truffle. It needs no cooking or elaborate preparation. It just needs to be sliced thinly and served. The accompanying food, therefore, plays a mere supporting role; a blank canvas that can showcase the flavour of the truffle. But, of course, it's not as though the food doesn't matter at all. Matching and balancing the pungent aroma and flavour of the white truffle to create something truly special takes supreme skill. While I could happily have white truffles served simply with scrambled eggs, risotto, or plain buttered pasta, I was so impressed with the skill of the cooking shown at Hélène Darroze. Every dish from the menu was perfectly in balance, every bite heavenly. The truffle aromas shone through boldly, but not to the extent that they drowned out the other flavours. In fact, quite the contrary – it was almost as if the truffle flavours were enhanced by the matching food. At £200 without wine, the Alba truffle menu at Hélène Darroze is almost recklessly extravagant, but it is a real culinary tour de force. This is one meal I will reminisce about for a very long time indeed.

Food:         9 / 10

Service:      7 / 10

Ambiance:  8 / 10

Hélène Darroze at the Connaught

Carlos Place

London. W1K 2AL

United Kingdom

Tel: +44 (0)20 7499 7070

Polpetto, London – Review

Which came first, the restaurant or the PR campaign? An odd but pertinent question in today's socially networked times. In the case of Russell Norman, the Twitterverse was alive with his 140-characters-or-less chatter in the run up to last year's grand opening of his first solo restaurant project, Polpo. What started as simple tweets about the ongoing development of a restaurant gradually grew, and a sizeable band of eager followers soon ensued. Unsurprisingly, Polpo opened to a flood of acclaim from critics and rapidly became a darling of the blogosphere. Polpetto is Polpo's younger (more attractive?) sister that Norman opened this summer, also to much blog-fuelled acclaim. So when I was in London recently I wanted to see what all the fuss was about for myself.

Polpetto is located above the legendary bohemian French House pub in London's Soho. I wasn't actually sure I'd come to the right place at first, but then a glance upwards revealed a sign bearing an image of an octopus and the restaurant's name in small, neat script. I guess this must be it then. We entered the unmarked door and proceeded up the narrow staircase to the dining room, which was as small as it was charming, seating just 28 covers. Exposed brickwork and unadorned light bulbs hanging from the ceiling give the place a relaxed, urban feel to it, which is softened by flashes of wood and a large plushly upholstered banquette at one end of the room. The overall atmosphere of the place is very warm and intimate – a wonderfully cosy place to while away a couple of hours over lunch.

Like its elder sibling, Polpetto is loosely based on the bàcari of Venice, where small plates of tapas-like chiccetti are washed down with glasses of spritzer or wine. The menu here features a number of tempting dishes, small and large, that are just begging to be shared.

We started with a couple of small dishes of polpetti (£3.00) and melanzane parmigiana (£2.00). The polpetti – baby octopuses – were served whole and had been marinated in olive oil and vinegar laced with flecks of red chilli – they had a lovely chewy bite to them while still being quite tender. We didn't realise that the melanzane is served as an individual piece so we only ordered one of these, and as a result the solitary wrap of aubergine looked a tad lonely on the plate. It was, however, delicious.

This was followed by some simple, but good, grilled focaccia (£2.50) drizzled generously with olive oil. Alongside this were prawns cooked in chilli and garlic (£6.50). The prawns were accurately cooked and the sauce they came in was pleasantly spiced, without being too overpowering. I particularly liked the small cherry tomatoes in the sauce that were just bursting with flavour. Needless to say, every last drop of the sauce was mopped up with the bread.

Next were some polpette (£6.00), dense meatballs of pork spiked with fennel seeds that were served in a simple, but punchy tomato sauce. This was accompanied by one of the single best things I have eaten this year – zucchini fries (£4.50). Thin batons of courgette had been battered and fried to an ethereally light crispness. There was hardly any trace of oiliness, just a satisfyingly crunchy crust that gave way to a powder soft interior. Just amazing. We greedily mopped up the sauce from the polpette with forkfuls of the fries and chortled with pleasure.

Osso Buco is one of my all-time favourite dishes and at just £8.50, Polpetto's version is somewhat of a bargain. Supremely tender veal shank sat atop a pile of velvety saffron risotto; the veal having that melt-in-the-mouth quality that only long, slow cooking can achieve. The crowning glory was a centrepiece of rich, wobbly marrow to be scooped out greedily and spread across the meat. If you're not full by now, then this dish will finish you off for sure.

However, dessert is my Achilles heel, and I couldn't resist ordering a pannacotta (£6.00) to share. The soft, vanilla folds of the pannacotta were cut by the spiced fruitiness of lightly stewed plums. It was a delicious way to end the meal.

The total bill came to £58 including wine and service, which was efficient and pleasantly informal. Although I understand the reasons for it, I'm not a big fan of some restaurants' policy of not taking bookings, and Polpetto doesn't take dinner reservations. I don't know about you, but I like the certainty that reserving a table gives you. We all lead such hectic lives these days, and if I've planned to eat somewhere at a certain time I'd like to know that it will happen, without me having to wait an inordinate amount of time for a table that may or may not materialise. I was there at lunchtime, when they do take reservations, so for me that's definitely the way to go.

I really, really adored Polpetto. It has charm and energy in spades, and the food was divine. Often, a restaurant never lives up to this amount of pre-opening hyperbole. But in the case of Polpetto I'm pleased to say it exceeded all my expectations. OK, the food might not be the most refined in London, but it is honest, no fuss cooking served in such congenial surroundings. Polpetto is a breath of fresh air in the capital's already eclectic dining scene and I can't wait to come back for more.

Food:          8 / 10
Service:       8 / 10
Ambiance:   9 / 10

Polpetto
Upstairs at The French House
49 Dean Street
London W1D 5BG
United Kingdom
Tel: +44 (0)20 7734 1969