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Gastro: The Charles Lamb

16 Elia Street
London N1 8DE
Tel: 020 7837 5040

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, November 25th, 2006

The Victim: Natasa

The Damage: £16. With apple juice. 

The Background: I woke up at 10 thinking...

Margaritas at
1 a.m.
are
a
very
bad
idea.

And then my cell phone (that's American, for mobile) rang and it was Natasa wanting to know if I felt like brunch. Now see, it had started pouring rain by the time I was functioning, so walking anywhere brunch-like was not an option. So I convinced her a pub lunch was a better idea! And I'd been walking by that chalkboard at Angel for ages now--the one that tells you where the Charles Lamb is. And then they were runners up in the Best Gastro category in Time Out which made me very annoyed about ignoring that chalkboard for so long.

The Approach: The Charles Lamb is so cute. I want to live here and adopt Mascha the dog. Even though I'm allergic. (Although--the bathrooms might make it difficult to live here; I did have a little trouble getting in and out. Again, taking the term water closet a little too far.) We took a table in the corner and placed our orders with the friendly girl behind the bar.

The Starters: After years of not liking French Onion Soup, I actually do and am now on a bit of a French Onion Soup kick. I was assured it was not an overly large portion. Well, it was very filling!!! (This is me being nice. What I'm trying to say is that it was a large portion and I could have just had that.) Natasa had the goat's cheese tart, and well, you can never go wrong with goat's cheese. One day, I will learn how to make this.

The Mains: I went for the lamb with the bubble and squeak, which I do so love. I loved the green beans--nice and crisp. And the B&S was great too. (Is it ever not?) It was the lamb with which I struggled. This is not a ladylike dish. I felt like a glutton (which I probably am). And a cavewoman--this was a big piece of lamb. Natasa and I could have easily split this dish--although the girl behind the bar said it wasn't an overly large portion, boy, it sure was. If I felt less awkward about taking pictures of my food,  I would show you what it looked like. Natasa had the duck and it looked a little more managable. And delicious.

The Verdict: Loved the "Please don't feed Mascha" signs. Loved the friendly service. Thought the portions were huge and the presentation a bit, well, not presented. But a good friendly neighborhood spot that I would gladly go back to. Although I thought £2.50 for apple juice was a bit steep. You know you bought that jug for less than that.

Vietnamese: Song Que

134 Kingsland Road
E2 8DY
Tel: 020 7613 3222

Date of Last Visit: Friday, November 24th 2006

The Victims: Too many to mention

The Damage: £15 each with beer.

The Background: Ben & Gerry suggested a night out at the circus over at the Bethnal Green Working Man's Club. We were game for the excursion, and met up at Song Que for some eats beforehand. I, of course, was on time and everyone else showed up 10 minutes later. Rather than sit around and wait for the others, I chatted up my server and ordered up a Saigon and some of those delicious leaf-wrapped-beef-parcels and sat back to soak in the atmosphere. That last crack about the atmosphere is a joke; Song Que has as much atmosphere as a high school cafeteria.This isn't a bad thing necessarily, but I did want to mention it.

The Starters: Along with the leafy beef thingies, we ordered a veggie tofu pancake which was honestly so very delicious. I could have been happy with just that. We also ordered up an assortment platter, but I can't tell you what type of assortment it was because the platter was licked clean--safe for one crummy prawn toast--by the time it made it down to my end of the table.

The Mains: Ben and I split 1/4 crispy duck. Love the duck!!! I think this would really be my last meal request. Echo ordered the sweet and sour prawns because she saw PRAWNS and got really excited. She did not enjoy her meal. (I sometimes feel I know Chinese people better than they know themselves!) But she did enjoy the side of veggie noodles she ordered--as did I! I helped myself to a large portion of her dish--sorry Echo! The rest of the table seemed to very much enjoy everything they ordered, and rounds of Saigon and Jasmine tea were in abundance. 

Aside: Ben was wearing a top hat which got us plenty of attention--Gerry had made it herself and it was awesome. She had also made Echo and I feathery circusy headpieces. We looked very festive. Gerry makes some pretty amazing stuff, and you should totally visit her Web site and/or stop by the Truman Brewery some Sunday when she has a stand.

The Service: I had read lots on-line about the gruffness of the service and you know what, you gotta work with it. I asked our server for his favorite beer, and his favorite food. And he loved us for that, and we loved him too. I did think writing the time on the tablecloth for when we had to leave was a bit annoying, but given the speed in which food is delivered, they know their average turn rate. They gave us 90 minutes, and we were out of there in less than that.

The Verdict: Cheap. Delicious. And spacious in comparison to Cay Tre. Song Que is what it is. Fluorescent lights and all. Once I get a bike pump, I can see myself biking over quite frequently.

Frenchie, frenchie: Racine

239 Brompton Road
SW3 2EP
Tel: 020 7584 4477

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, 19 November 2006

The Victims: Al, Louise + 1/3

The Damage: £45 per person (LOVE my new English keyboard with the £££££ sign!)

The Background: Al and Louise are master organizers--they are so good at the brunch thing, you'd think they were from my country. They have the dubious honor of being "my English friends." They're lovely. They are also EXPECTING which is very exciting, and which I suspected many months ago when Louise and I went to the theatre in Richmond. "We" had a drink at the Orange Tree and I did not write about it; you see, Louise did not drink at all, and let us just say that that is just a wee bit abnormal for her so I was immediately suspicious.

The Arrival:  I arrive--early, despite visiting my Anya Hindmarch bags at Harrods--and am left in the doorway. A gentleman takes my coat and proceeds to stand there. He cannot seat me. I tell him I have a booking, but that does not matter. He cannot help me. No one can, except for the one man at the bar who is too busy serving the 7 customers seated. I am peeved!!! A couple walk in behind me. They too are left standing. The odd part is that there are 7 customers seated and THERE ARE 8 WAITSTAFF. And no one besides the guy holding my coat seems to give a damn that I'm there. Holy crap, I must be in France!

Finally, the head dude comes over and I tell him I have a booking and I say it's for at least 3 at 12:45 and then he assumes that the people behind me are all with me and this just annoys me further. But finally I am shown to my table.

Sitting: And I am further ignored! I try to make significant eye contact with all 8 waitstaff, but despite the lack of customers, they all seem terribly busy. They walk to the front of the restaurant and then the back. Finally, I catch the eye of a young boy (he is, really, but a boy) and I request a glass of Riesling. Finally. Things pick up from there.

The Clientele: I must be in Paris. Everyone is American!

The Food: Al & Louise arrive and we go for the French Onion soup (but of course!) and the deep fried corn fritters (I could be SO wrong on this). My soup is good--deep and dark and onion-y. It's not the unbelievable French Onion experience I had in Paris with Michael and his friend Jenny at midnight when we were lost, but it is still very respectable.

The Mains: When I was a child, my father was in the Coast Guard Reserves. One year, we went to Virginia and went camping while he did his active duty (two weeks). We ate at the mess hall on the Navy base most every night for dinner. Except for the night they served RABBIT. Us Yankees hightailed it off that base faster than a, heck, I don't know. But it was fast. We had dinner at Wendy's that night. (Aside: One of my fave memories from childhood is seeing the opening of A View to A Kill on that very same base--we were the only family in the place--it was all soldiers in their uniforms, and man, were they excited to see James Bond!)

This is a very long way of saying that I had rabbit for lunch at Racine. Rabit with mustard and stringbeans. And you know what? It tasted like chicken. Heck, it's possible it was chicken. I have no idea. It was like white meat. I was expecting duck-like meat. But I guess I should have realized that chicken is fowl and rabbit is not.

Al liked Louise's dish so much that he ate his (the beef) and hers (the stew). Us drinkers washed it all down with a lovely chalky Sancerre.

Dessert: I love it when they set my dessert on fire. I don't know what it was, but it was flammable.

The End: The restaurant filled up around 2 p.m., and the 8 waitstaff were fully utilized. Everyone who waited on us was very kind and decent, so I cannot complain except for that blip at the beginning where everyone ignored me.

The Loos: Not so bad. Clean and neat and very closet-like.

The Verdict: My father would like it here.

I Heart Cheese: Obika

Selfridges
400 Oxford Street
W1A 1AB

Tel: 020 7318 3620

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, November 18th

The Victim: Me, myself, and I

The Damage: £20

The Background: I woke up this morning in the mess that is my flat and knew I had to escape. I am very good at avoidance. So I hopped on the bus straight over to Oxford Street and made my way to Selfridges. After a quick eyebrow threading (£20), a back rub (£10), and the purchase of some very unnecessary kitchen supplies (£20), I made my way to Obika for some cheese, glorious cheese! (And I wonder where the money goes????)

The Approach: I am greeted warmly and shown to a little table, situated so I can watch the crowds come off the escalator. Love the people watching at The Big S. What do all these people do for a living? Where does all the money come from??? My server recited all the specials and sounded very excited about all of them. It was a tough decision, but I had come for the cheese, not the pasta, so my decision was made for me.

The Meal: I went for the delicate mozzerella (there are three types and mine was the lightest) along with some grilled vegetables, some very lovely prociutto, and some very spicy salami that had more of a creamy consistency. I loved it. I gobbled it up. Now I don't know if this was a faux pas or not, but I put salt and oil on my plate and mopped it up with the mozzerella. My server kept coming over and moving the oil and the salt away from me. Was I breaking a cardinal rule? I do not know. I only know that mozzerella tastes even better with oil and salt, so sue me if I was wrong! All this was washed down by a glass of white--a dirty on the outside glass of white that I didn't really notice until I was half way done and holding the glass by the bowl and not the stem. Yuk. But the food was so delicious and the service so friendly I will overlook this for now.

The Verdict: Quite a nice way to pass the time, eating cheese and watching how the other half lives.

Average Japanese: Hare and Tortoise

373 Kensington High Street
W14 8QZ
Tel: 020 7603 8887

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, November 12, 2006

The Victim: Kristi

The Damage: 8 quid

The Background: K and I had spent the afternoon at the BBC Good Food Show--where we got a look at Gordon Ramsay from afar and helped ourselves to delicious cava, rum drinks, kingfishers, and popcorn. It was not as fun as Vive la France, but that was about France and this is not.

Anyhow, tired of nibbling, we headed over to the Hare & Tortoise, which was just a hop-skip-and-jump away from Olympia. K had been wanting to try it for a while.

The Starter: We started off with some edamame, which seemed a little old and furry and reheated. And no salt crystals. I was slightly disappointed, but edamame is edamame is edamame, so I was still relatively happy.

The Mains: K felt like spring rolls, so that's what she had. I felt like Chicken Katsu Don, so that's what I ordered. K's spring rolls arrived in all their deep-fried goodness, in direct contrast to spring, which suggests a certain lightness and peacefulness of being. My katsu don arrived soon afterwards and it was, precisely, rice and fried chicken and a little big of scrambled egg and onion. Now I am no expert, but when I have had this dish before, there's been more to it than white rice and fried chicken and two onions and a dabble of egg. I was saddened. I ate some chicken and then we left.

The Verdict: Never to return.

Pizza: La Porchetta

141-142 Upper Street
N1 1QY
Tel: 020 7288 2488

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, November 11

The Victims: Bryan, Stacey, Julie

The Damage: 15 quid each

The Background: We were due over at Ross' Going Away Party (that's American for "Leaving Do") at 7:30 so we popped into La Porchetta for a quick bite. I was super excited because every time I walk past La Porchetta, it's really packed and looks fun. And I had a hankering for Italian, so it was perfect.

The Soundtrack: REM's Automatic for the People, interspersed with Italian pop--at that volume mostly heard out of cars in developing countries, where the music is so loud and the speakers are so poor that a nice song just sounds like crap, and your ears hurt. No one else seemed to be bothered by this but us. We asked for the music to be turned down twice.

The Starters: Fried mozzarella and the mozzarella and tomato salad. They were decent, and were made all the more delicious by their price tag. It was a good value.

The Wine: I love a place that serves table wine. Stacey and I put down a 1/2 liter of red.

The Mains: I went for a fusilli with sausage and broccoli and chillis and garlic and oil. The sausage was good, the broccoli was sparse, and I was insanely jealous of Stacey's dish and Bryan's pizza. Julie went for the spaghetti with mussels and it looked nice, but after reading Kitchen Confidential, I'm not eating mussels again until I pick them myself. If I could order all over again, I would. I was not pleased. My meal was boring.

The Service: Indifferent.

The Tap Water Test: Tap water arrived, but it took ages. Everyone else ordered sparkling and I felt cheap.

The Verdict: Eh. But I'd give it another shot.

Bar Food: Hoxton Bar & Ktichen

2-4 Hoxton Square
N1 6NU
Tel: 020 7613 0709

Date of Last Visit: Tuesday, November 7 and then again on Thursday November 8

The Damage: 15 quid a person without drinks, 20 quid with

The Victims: Julie, Feathers, Ross on Trip 1. 13 people on Trip 2.

The Background: It's an odd thing, this global world we live in. Take a bunch of American girls and move them to England. Introduce them to a bunch of British boys and what happens? One of these British boys gets transferred to America. The weekend right before Thanksgiving no less! (What HR rep worked that one out???) So we took Ross out to lunch to educate him on 8 1/2 x 11, tap water, "cable," writing checks, and winter coats and boots and hats and gloves and scarves (real ones--not those pansy English ones that are more form than function). And guys named Chuck and Randy, which I guess don't exist over on this side of The Pond.

The Entrance: The Hoxton Bar & Kitchen is empty at 12:45 on a Tuesday. Given Ross' imminent departure, I chose it partially for it's American-ish cuisine, although there wasn't a glass of tap water in site. Note we weren't in the bar, but rather the restaurant. We sat in a big booth by the windows which was nice because gosh darnit if it's not just a little bit autumn-y these days and Hoxton Square itself does look all peaceful and greenish gold.

The Service: Nice, but just a little bit spacey. When I returned on Thursday night, our server accused (in a funny way) one of our group of ordering two beers for himself, and although we were the only folks in the place, they kept asking for the drink and food menus back although we were (I'd argue) obviously still perusing them.

The Starters: Thursday night, we ordered two things of nachos. Our server assured me that it was a large platter. In fact, she indicated the size with her hands. (Seemingly, about 12 inches of nachos.) Imagine my surprise when one of those Frenchie bowls for frites arrived. It was like a frite bowl (or a soup bowl) full of nachos. Talk about margin!!!They were tasty, but it's hard to eat nachos out of a bowl. (Messy fingers.) They work better from a platter. We also ordered chorizo, which was pretty basic. Nothing exciting.

The Mains: Burgers, burgers, burgers. They were actually pretty good. And they had monterey jack cheese! Practically unheard of in this country! On Thursday night, some in our party ordered the ribs and they were really big ribs. I wouldn't have wanted to eat them, they were so uncomfortable looking to hold and get through. Knife and fork? Gnaw away? What to do?

The Restrooms: Well, on Thursday night, it was a big night for the bar next door. So I went over to the ladies from the restaurant side, and it was fine, but on my way back, I had a very unattractive view of the men's room--and the whiff was even worse. They totally need to power wash that place.

The Verdict: I thought this was a good choice for a relatively inexpensive meal for 13 people. And I was happy with my burger. I wouldn't be adverse to going back.

Chicago Superlicious: Sola

3868 N. Lincoln Ave
Chicago. IL 60613
USA
Tel: +1 773-327-3868

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, October 28

The Victims: Christina, Kent

The Damage: Unknown! They paid.

The Background: I am a not infrequent visitor to Chicago. My arrival is thus not trumpeted, heralded, or otherwise feted. With so many visits in 2006, I fear 2007 will be the year of "Oh hey, it's you again."

But shall such misfortune ever befall me, I will take myself to Sola, and celebrate myself. See, in Sola--a not-so-large-but-not-so-small restaurant on Chicago's northside, I found everything I could ever want in a restaurant.

Christina and Kent had just gotten married in August--at the top of the Sears Tower, no less. Hence I had really just seen them, but being their wedding and all, I didn't really get a chance to SEE them. So they took me to Sola on this last visit to town.

The Drinks: I ordered a martini. A rare event. But the drinks looked so fresh and fabulous, I couldn't stop myself. It was a vodka-based martini (you know I don't like gin, or vodka really for that matter, but I'll take vodka over gin if I must), and it was yellow-ish. And I want to say it had star anise in it. It was very summery, which was funny considering it was like 0 degrees Celsius outside.

The Tap Water Test: All restaurants in the US pass this test. We love tap water. It's bottomless. And there's ice. And lots of it. And they refill your glass constantly. All this tap water--that's why our skin looks so much healthier than that of the folks in my adopted country.

The Starters: I did the duck confit and it was perfect. Really perfect. The menu said it had arugula, endive, and butternut squash in it. I forget how much I love butternut squash.

The Mains: Mine was Black miso cod. Our server, who was really the best server I think I've ever had (more later), reminded me that it would be served medium rare. A medium rare fish? Sign me up. And honestly, it was so fantastically good. It came with "bambooed rice," and I'm not quite sure what that means, but it sure was good. Creamy and almost curry-like. Kent went with the pork chop and it was HUGE but not in a bad way. It was perfect. Christina got the duck, duck, goose which was some sort of duck wontons. She did not share. OK, maybe a little. But not as much as I wanted her to.

The Service: Perfect. I liked how our server actually told us how much the specials cost. It was very matter-of-fact, and I appreciated that. Why do the prices of specials have to be so mysterious elsewhere? Heck, I am reading Kitchen Confidential right now. I know what goes on back there in the kitchen when it comes to prepping specials. Anyhow, our server gave great recs, didn't interrupt us when we didn't want to be interrupted, and was generally just very observant and perfect.

The Dessert: Banana ice cream. It was really some of the best ice cream I've ever had.

The Decor: Very golden-like. In my mind's eye, I see only golden browns and yellows. It was lovely.

The Verdict: Sola, please don't ever change.