A THIN PANCAKE is fitting here. Typically, this thin pancake is a European culinary delight: it shuns air bubbles, bounce, fluff and plate piled pancake aesthetic. Thin means, also, there’s no Japanese jiggle. By calling it a pancake in and of itself suggests heft. Pre-Lent Shrove Tuesday in Britain: are we snobbishly upholding the stereotype that most Europeans are thin or meagre? The French Diet has entered the chat…
Crêpe A la Crème De Marron
Out of every Pancake I’ve had the esteemed pleasure of encountering on Pancake Day, I’ve yet to see the layered cake effect of tasty American buttermilk pancakes. Lemon and sugar – yes. It’s just us in the UK that say “flat as pancake” probably because we’re the only ones calling them and a McDonald’s breakfast pancake the same thing.
What is called a crêpe in France occupies the recipe realm of a traditional English pancake. French crêpes is the nomenclature outside of France. In Norway they deliver complication. The Norwegian Sveler looks stackable and much like the fatter stateside pancake of similar batter.
Crêpe vs. Galette
Street food with flair? I do love a plated moment with either, though. The pliable glutinous chew of a crêpe demands your attention like a bowl of hand pulled noodles. You could eat it with chopsticks: the single handed concentration of oral pleasure is doubled. Which is ironic, as this is the sweet version of the thin pancake or crêpe in cone from a street stall, often smothered in Nutella.
Crêpes at night in Caen
The galette or Breton galette cannot be distinguished from the crêpe by sweet and savoury nuances alone.
The Best Galette in Caen Normandie
The rozell is mandatory for the best galette. As a home cook, you don’t need a crêpe maker to make a crêpe; English pancake, or a galette but out of your home, it is a tragedy if neither a billing nor rozell are in the hands of the street vendor or restaurant kitchen.
La Ficelle
Galette with roquefort and creme, potatoes and ham
Menu at La Ficelle Caennaise crêperie
Galette with roquefort and creme, potatoes and ham
Galette in Normandie
Rain being a backdrop for Normandy, there is solace in back alleys. The locals are comforting. The streets; inviting, warming to me. There were gifts to be bought and the relief – the sheer relief – of having the last purchases to hand made me giddy.
I went for the La Larzac galette at the Caennaise crêperie La Ficelle – established in 1974. The galette was crispy on the edges. The potatoes rounded off the rocketing roquefort funk that was tamed by the ham and gently balanced by the crême fraiche. The handsomely wrapped galette took it over the edge. Bite, even in the middle and little fermentation flavour in that buckwheat – that can put people off from the “savoury crêpe” – was toothsome and whole. The salad may look like an afterthought but it was not.
L’ andouille De Vire
A typical day in Normandy means it’s raining. A hand held street food crêpe? Or galette (only in London this..) just doesn’t cut it. Nor should it. It takes time to savour. This is the French way. Let’s cut to the point. French butter from Normandy divinely lifted off a plate, like a sauce you need to mop up the crêpe up with, requires a plating moment. In the Vaugueux District of Caen you find that thin doesn’t mean meagre. So if the crêpe needs a plate, what about the galette?
Here we have Andouillette de Vire in a galette. I ordered it several times, alone or with whatever it came with and each restaurant said it sold out.
Galette of andouille, cream, potatoes and egg
Menu at Pourquoi Pas Caen Normandy
Galette served with salad
Andouille de Vire the smoked tripe delicay
Savoury Crêpe in France
At Pourquoi Pas in Caen, the waiter was hesitant to serve me this galette.
“Madame, are you sure? It is quite a strong… taste…”
I was sure. It tasted like smoky spaghetti ribbons of stink in the best possible way. The egg and whatever else was inside leant itself to one side. The entire galette tasted of this laborious creation of pork intestine and stomach, smoked over beechwood for God knows how long.
Eat Tokyo Notting Hill Gate
Date of visit: October 2025
I used to study here, in Notting Hill. In fact, I was persuaded to stick around this area. This was before a literature degree reflected a curated re-enactment, typically including the obligatory pop into the local bookstore.
Eat Tokyo Notting Hill Gate
Before cobbled cul-de-sacs and cozy cat cafes, there was a fishmonger right by Notting Hill Gate station, a tiny Pret a manger and Starbucks.
Now we have Eat Tokyo – an authentic Japanese restaurant that also operates several branches across London, including locations in Soho, Hammersmith, Holborn, and Golders Green.
Recently, director Mr Hiroshi Takayama was proud to bring the Taste of Japan to the Grand London Sumo Tournament (the first held outside of Japan). Here are some clips from the event at The Royal Albert Hall, along with the Eat Tokyo Company’s Head Chef Motohashi and Head Chef Wu discussing Chanko Nabe with a Director of Fallow restaurant, Chef Will Murray.
We won’t be eating Chanko Nabe at Eat Tokyo.
Here’s what you can eat at a sit down, authentic Japanese restaurant in London that serves sushi.
The menu at Eat Tokyo Notting Hill Gate
There are restaurants I scrape to find a full online, up-to-date, a la carte menu for and this is one of them. Extensive higher-low end price points: from A5 wagyu cuts of beef, to cucumber rolls using Premium Grade sushi rice; a high quality, short grain variety. I am not a sushi making expert but I hear that rice is one, if not the most important elements that classify good sushi from bad sushi.
Menu at Eat Tokyo Notting `Hill Gate
I love sea urchin: the addition of uni when in season makes Eat Tokyo stand out even more for me. It’s not an omakase style restaurant. There is no unspoken “I’ll leave it to you” request to the Sushi Master when it comes to the menu. A laminated booklet reads like a scroll, blanketing the dark dinng wooden table top. It takes a good read and many visits to get through. Did I mention I love sea urchin?
Sea urchin – uni – and tobiko – flying fish rose
The uni is buttery and nutty with a hint of that full-fat tomalley flavour profile carrying it through at end of first bite. This symphonic undertone lingers until the last bite. It is generously portioned here onto the rice in an uni nigiri format. There’s only one thing better: fresh sea urchin eaten out directly out from its shell with, perhaps, a squeeze of citrus circulating in between the strips of pumpkin- coloured gonad.
Flying fish roe or tobiko crackles and pops in the mouth with a moreish briny sweetness. A bite of pickled ginger in between the two nigiris to cleanse the palate make this a well rounded choice of nigiri for someone, like myself, who appreciates good rice but doesn’t need a lot of it with every bite.
Nigiri and sashimi with menu prices at Eat Tokyo Notting Hill
Eat Tokyo also has branches in Japan and Germany. In a saturated market of London restaurants offering sushi as Asian fusion foods or high end authentic Japanese sushi, Eat Tokyo hits that mark at being welcoming to enthusiastic eaters. There’s a tapas style to the way the dishes read in print that screams more.
Butter asparagus
Going through it, the extensive here in Notting Hill may be the largest. There are appetisers expected of an authentic Japanese restaurant in London and then there are complete surprises. Vegan salmon tartare, unagi and or sake foie gras and fatty funa or otoro as opposed to holding back at chu-toro – all make an entrance. Soups and ramens take a bow here and there but most regulars go for a set dish or all out on the range of wagyu beef selections to choose from. It’s fun, is what I’m getting at.
A simple butter asparagus dish is executed perfectly. It’s sweet and salty, light yet rich, with the lemon butter peppered ever so subtly as it clings to the trimmed, steamed three-bite earthy stick.
Snails at Eat Tokyo – sea snails in a light broth served with toothpicks
The sea snails are chewy. There was an inedible part which was a flat delicate shell: easy to remove from the organ itself, which I gleefully poked out to eat. Like a cockle without vinegar, a mussel without cream, squeaky and meaty to the bite: a yummy treat on the end of a toothpick. It looked as ugly as it was delicious (see photo below). Order them. Their fragrant broth is reason to as it carries that savoury sweet balance so typically used in Japanese cooking. The clean fragrance owing to the plentiful ginger steeped inside the bowl. A hint of white pepper could be detected, which gave a freshly fermented, warm end-note to the dish.
I didn’t know what to expect from sea snails at Eat Tokyo. I’ve mentioned that the typical restaurant preparation in Europe can come from a can, then re-stuffed into used shells. This was more of a bulot which was exceedingly popular and equally affordable in Normandy, France.
Sashimi platter at Eat Tokyo Nottinghill London
The California rolls and asparagus rolls can be seen in the background of the photo above are not to be dismissed by their price point. Fresh ingredients; the use of chunks of crab rather than surimi, for example, generously fill or wrap all the rolls and temaki I have sampled at Eat Tokyo.
The sashimi selection cannot be faulted. If you prefer your raw fish without rice, you won’t be disappointed with the freshness and quality they provide.
I was refused entry at a restaurant I researched. I mention this as a preface to what happened next. I hot-footed it there, knowing that the opening hours were all over the shop.
I found another, by chance that I was passing by. This is what happens when you look up at your new surroundings. Travelling to a new place, while clutching your phone, can mean you miss out on what’s actually going on.
Caen Normandy by night
No reservations were made by me, at either establishment. Where I ended up that night did not come up on any of searches online in Caen or London.
I wanted a French bouillon experience. Typically, Paris is the way to go. I didn’t make it there either but perhaps that’s a tale to tell another time. Normandie, let’s see what you have to offer.
Bouillon Saint Martin – Caen
Dining in France
The French just don’t do rushed dining. Even after you’re seated at a restaurant, no one will rush to take your order and it’s nothing to do with their service charge / no tipping culture.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t proper French dining – it’s a Bouillon restaurant. They originated in Paris, more specifically with the first one opening in 1767 on Roue des Poulies and named after Monsieur Boulanger, commonly referred to as the 1765 Parisian soup vendor.
Soupe à l’oignon gratinée – French onion soup in Caen
“Venite ad me omnes qui stomacho laboratis, et ego vos restaurabo”
It’s no coincidence that the restorative properties of a bouillon broth led to Monsieur Boulanger’s shopfront engraving of “Come to me, those whose stomachs ache, and I will restore you,” in Latin. Nor surprising is that it closed around 1854 when the street was torn down.
Soupe à l'oignon gratinée - French onion soup in Caen
Previously not drawn to a French onion soup, this challenged my persuasion: the broth – not too beefy, in fact not beefy at all. One wonders about the stock used; nothing almost gravy like about it, nor do the onions resemble a caramalised mush. This is essence of onion, soft Roscoff slivers, dispersed Gruyrère goo and slightly fermented baked bread. Hint of bay and bright alcohol cooked off and not a garlic crouton in sight. None of it is sloppy or astringent, as my description may suggest. Perhaps it is their take on it; Bouillon Saint Martin style?
Having tried it in brasseries across London all it needed there, for me, was a splash of red reduction and it could go onto a banger or Sunday roast – spare the cheese. At Bouillon Saint Martin in Caen, this is not that. When I stir my spoon into it the creamy emulsification resembles my Pastis the moment the ice hits the glass and the water is release through it. You want to take your time with this, trust me.
Butter, parsley, garlic and the Helixpomatia. Burgundy snails which are most prized and a protected species in France. Also known as the Roman snail they are a classic to be eaten in this preparation. The three other varieties are the “escargot du turc”, “petis gris” and the large grey snail. While restaurants in France typically use fresh precooked snails (before adding the butter etc), home cooks or kitchens without such availability used canned. These are then stuffed back into a snail shell purchased separately for this purpose.
The garlic isn’t playing here. It will stay with you. It lingers. I taste the earthiness of the mollusc’s diet in each al dente chew, bathed in Beurre d’Isigny. The accompanying complimentary bread acts as a delivery mechanism for every morsel of that butter bath gushing from the shell with each extraction of flesh.
Sausage and mash
The snappy smoked pork sausage is satisfying to cut through with the steak knife the dish is presented with. The jus is light and seeps into the chive scattered mash. The portion of the accompanying carrots and mushrooms can be less or replaced with a few simple roast carrots or plain cabbage. Although a speck or two of Dijon would not go a miss here, I add nothing to any dish, if not prompted.
Inexpensive French faire served honestly in an expensive environment: the French bouillon re-opened in the late 1850s. This time it was butcher Pierre-Louis Duval serving cheap meat and broth to workers in Paris. By 1900, Paris had nearly 250 bouillons.
Warm choux pastry filled vanilla bean ice cream with Chantilly cream and chocolate sauce
Once sat, it’s rare to see a new set of diners appear. Most of our closely placed tables seat a family, a couple. It makes as good case for this Michelin thing where they excel: “Take a seat. Get comfy. It’s going to be a long ride.”
I’m not a dessert person. Fresh choux pastry, warm, I might add, enveloping vanilla bean ice cream like a hug only an airy pastry puff could give. Créme patisserie with vanilla bean and chunks of dark chocolate. I’m still dreaming about it. Hot and cold, crunches of bitter chocolate, all afloat colossal cream clouds swimming in Willy Wonka’s pool.
Place Saint-Saveur – the heart of old Caen
Bouillon Saint Martin address – 21 Pl. Saint-Martin, 14000 Caen, France.
Food 8.9/10
Value for Money 10/10 (25-30 Euros pp for 1-2 appetisers, main course, desert with a carafe of wine, digestif)
Where it’s the dream of many lovers of seafood – of shellfish and perhaps simply oysters – to visit Brittany or in my case, Normandie, France, I quite fancied avoiding any tours. Perhaps even try oyster farming on a, well, an oyster farm.
Ouistreham shellfish market
So on the overnight ferry I popped from Portsmouth to Oistreham in Normandy, France. No, I hadn’t heard of it either (Ouistreham that is) but then Normandy is big and there are many place in Normandie to visit. If not just eat to their famous four cheeses that start but don’t end with Camembert. Other soft but not as creamy characters include Livarot. The heart shaped bonbon de Neufchâtel attracts the eye and makes a lovely cadeaux while Pont Lévêque formerly known as “l’angelot” is a high fat dairy devotee. (Yes that’s four cheeses. I double-checked).
More on dairy in Normandie shortly. Back to oysters!
Anatomy of an oyster in Normandy France
The anatomy of an oyster is not something I looked into in England as, although they are a treat to eat, for myself, I rarely do. They’re expensive or a messy, an accident prone fanfare to shuck without the appropriate tool. I also feel that they are to be savoured and so, when in France that is exactly what I plan to do: savour. Which is a way of life, I suspect, not only translates in the way the French like to eat.
There are four types to choose from and I try them all (in the image of the oysters above). I like both creamy and sweet and slightly saline and creamy oysters. The Papillon oyster (pictured but labelled incorrectly due to lack of labels, as I was told) along with the Asnelles no. 3 oyster hit the spot all the more for me in this regard.
Menu at Funny Fish Ouistreham with prices
Here’s the menu for funny fish in Ouistreham with the reasonable prices. Not pictured but indeed present are the lovely staff who know and chat to all the locals that frequent to purchase their seafood for the day.
Delicious crab in Ouistreham France
Would I recommend Funny Fish in Ouistreham, Normandy?
Would I recommend visiting Ouistreham out of all the places in Normandy to add to your travel itinerary?
I highly recommend both to do, to try. I almost insist upon it. Especially if you are an oyster lover or shellfish lover for that matter, you are a Francophile, considering where to visit in France that is not Paris for a change. Even Emily left Amélie and France altogether, apparently.
I did not imagine to eat the best crab of my life in Normandy but I did and that is not another blog if you like.
There is a great divide when it comes to food. Be it the ingredient itself or the method by which it is prepared: no one is partial to a texture that they cannot tolerate. We all have to eat so why is it only foodies or trends that drive us a certain direction into feeling like our palates are only so-so? Or that we have to try things in a restaurant because it’s expensive or someone cool said it’s delicious?
Eating Cold Jellyfish with Chinese Vinegar, Cucumber and Mustard
Maxim is a Chinese restaurant specialising in Cantonese cuisine, in Ealing, West London although it’s based in Northfields and much closer to get to on the Picadilly Line by tube from there. Ealing didn’t have many Chinese restaurants specialising in any regional or traditional foods or cuisines when Maxim arrived – so it was crowned Ealing’s best Chinese restaurant.
Cold jellyfish is prepared with a side of mustard sauce for dipping and thinly sliced cucumber. It’s a trilogy of textures and flavours I never thought I’d try and yet it works as though The Godfather Part Three was typecast to satisfy its audience. No fishy taste or Haribo jelly texture just smooth cartilage-like bite with a slippy snap that gripped the hot mustard and mellowed out with the cucumber. The creamed Chinese cabbage: a juxtaposition of things you’d not like to eat, is milky, sweet and on the scallion side of allium forward fruitiness. They are my two favourite dishes at Maxims. Executed impeccably.
Sizzling Beef at MAXIM Ealing
So there’s the jellyfish that looks like translucent hand cut noodles, that is crunchy and moreish and the creamed Chinese cabbage: two reasons why ordering in a group is good here. I would not think to order these alone. I’ve ordered both from Maxim as many times as we visited as family – which is probably 25-35 times.
The spring rolls are fat cigars – probably frozen filo pastry filled with bean sprouts, carrot and Chinese cabbage – succumb as much to that instagram -able presentation as absolutely nothing on the menu at MAXIM.
In spite of what you feel about chilli oil, this is what David Chang called “ugly delicious”. Only works if it is –and it is, delicious.
MAXIM – Best Chinese Food in Ealing
We had been coming as a firm family favourite to MAXIM in Northfields for a decade or so and I was avoiding the past tense, until this statement. I want to clarify a few things. There’s a husband and wife team at the head of business or operations in the kitchen and the wife is a delight who takes every individual’s dietary needs, requests, on board without fuss. The Hot and Sour Soup and stir fried mixed vegetable dishes at MAXIM sent me to my kitchen (a place that simultaneously sustains my life and sucks and spits it out) to seek replicable answers.
The food was good. Consistent yet pricey for, well, Northfields. But good.
One evening, on a bank holiday that was not busy we were encouraged to order our drinks first. We ordered bottles of wine for the table as it was a special occasion and our usual sparkling water. We were charged £20 per bottle of sparkling water and when we were asked if we would like to order anything for dessert (we barely did as its mostly frittered fruit and ice cream from Tesco) we mentioned it was a birthday. We had the option to decide what we wanted in this case and we left to the server. It was a version of what I just described and we charged for it. All in all, it left us with a bitter a taste for the establishment. Take with that, what you will.
Visiting Vilnius, Lithuania – Part One. Date of Visit: February 2025
George Orwell said: “A genuinely unfashionable opinion is almost never given a fair hearing…” So when I was greeted with “Why?” as the common response to mine – over mid-February exchanges in London that encourage enquiring over one’s plans – I was even more eager to go.
Fried Lithuanian Bread at Šnekutis
Fried Lithuanian bread smacked me upside the head. The historic Old Town Vilnius was founded in 1387 so it probably saw me coming. As did this Lithuanian snack that must have smirked to its mate Lithuanian wheat beer and had a giggle with the garlic. That’s those flecks in the picture: garlic.
Earlier I acquainted myself with the Lithuanians of London by way of booking an off-peak Ryan Air flight experience. This included the added thrill of a group of us paying a fine more costly than the plane ticket – newly implement, of course – for exceeding their permitted onboard carrier luggage dimensions. As we shook our heads and took it on the chin, apart from one or two anti-heroes which sadly did not make it on board, I realised that I was disappointed in myself. I couldn’t convey collective emotion in the Lithuanian language let alone basic non-emotive conversation prompts.
Cathedral Square Katedros Aikštė – Main Square Vilnius – City Capital, Lietuva
Šnekutis beer pub was were I had by first Lithuanian fried bread. English breakfast fried bread can sod off. Šv. Mikalojaus (Saint Nicholas) Street is where my trainers had an absolute wreck of a first date with all forms of white and black pavement encrusted ice. Coming off Cathedral Square, nearby (in better walking conditions) into contact with overhanging bulbs of welcoming lights, a beer-mat tramp stamped swinging door to draught beer at 10pm Lithuanian time, had me proverbially weeping with joy.
One might say that by that point anything I consumed or imbibed would have sent me over the edge. Which is fair, apart from the fact that I’m writing this many months later and I’ve eaten a lot of fried in the Baltics since. Paired with beer. Any way, home to the oldest surviving church in Vilnius – the Gothic-style Šv. Mikalojaus (Saint Nicholas) – Šv. Mikalojaus (Saint Nicholas) Street at Šnekutis is where I started my foray into Lithuanian wheat beer and bread.
Although the Lithuanian language is one of the oldest living Indo-European languages in Europe, I asked for whatever local beer and snack the bar keep recommended, in English, punctuating only my knowledge of beer (pour measures) in the process: a pint.
The accompanying cheese sauce was like edam, white cheddar and garlic mayonnaise decided that cohesively they united as an inseparable sauce when warm. The fried non greasy strips of kepta duona (Lithuanian fried bread) graced me with gentle linseed, whispers of malt syrup, barley and spices combined with flecks of unexpected astringency from the garlic. Kepta duona is magically moreish. The cheese sauce as anti American and cut off from Tex Mex I would swear I’ve never heard of a Dorito or nacho if it meant I could bottle this Süriu, Ĉesnaku ir Majonezu Sauce. It wouldn’t taste the same though. Not least because it’s garlic and cheesy (sour cream accented) mayonnaise.
Landing at Vilnius airport in February
Ushering my tired trainers back out to the their hazardous fate I took in the post snow air, a mix of piss and mildew and I did: I felt excited about the next days of exploring this historical Capital City of Lithuania. Was there another language that google translate disabled the speaker tool for? Was the local wine as good as the beer and was breakfast a thing here? I didn’t know how to pronounce sveiki yet but if I heard hello one more time when I tried, my head would explode. The local wine sounded interestingly strange and I wondered if the complimentary buffet breakfast was real, considering what I paid for my clean, warm, private room.
I got some change from a 10 euro note for my pint of local wheat beer and kepta duona with cheese sauce. There are local hearty, substantial meals to try at Šnekutis at reasonable prices too so you should try them.
There are five historic and cultural regions in Lithuania. Vilnius the capital South Aukštaitian dialect speaking, is located in the ethnographic region of Dzūkija (also known as Dainava). Although the regions can be considered to correspond to different Lithuanian dialects, this is not strictly the case. In the case of Vilnius: it does not mean that Dzūkija is part of Aukštaitija; dialects of other regions are spoken in certain parts; there are three indigenous dialects in Samogitia (some of which are subdivided into sub-dialects).
Boro Bistro review – date of visit Saturday October 2025
Boro Bistro review
Under the bridge and down the steps, en-route Borough Market, a perpendicular swivel to your right finds you enface an alleyway. There you find a courtyard leased out to indoor crazy golf and Boro Bistro. I would say, follow the fairy lights but they’re everywhere now.
Snails with Garlic butter
The snails with garlic butter were tough. Chewy was my first bite. At £9 a plate I reserved my judgement. Not a bad idea as, like a camp symphony that teases, my second twist into the shell pulled out more snail meat that bit like wagyu married a fat Gordal olive. Earthy. Nutty and happily married with garlic butter.
Ricard Pastis
The main snails eaten in France are the Helix pomatia (Burgundy snail), although Bulots – i.e. sea snails or whelks are commonly found on restaurant menus in Brittany and Normandy. The Burgundy snail is consumed in this way, as is presented with garlic butter. A Bulot is eaten as a steamed head-on grey or pink Crevette or prawn, with lemon and a side of mayonnaise. I assume its got more crunch and salinity.
The menu at Boro Bistro
It’s not easy to find Ricard or a Pastis in London on a menu. It’s a an aniseed heavy drink that is not too sweet. Good for digestion and typically consumed in summer months. You have to ask for how you want it served if you find it on a menu in London.
The service is lacklustre here Boro Bistro but I’m late to my reservation and it is a Saturday night where I can see most first dates or Friday night date dissections (over a glass of white wine) are well underway.
The best leeks I ate in my life
The French have a way with alliums. Shakespeare convinced us that good and evil are interchangeable; elopement; familial estrangement; murder and all those fun things are all about nothing.
The French convinced me that garlic, even raw and stripped down to only unpeeled white noise – is good.
If a dish corrupted my character that night, it was the roasted leeks with pistachio & mint pesto and hazelnut.
Taken, this review is mostly beautiful images (as the truffle fries were soggy and far too truffle forward for me and the salad was OK but too ingredient heavy for my liking) I would say that was some corruption.
I will come again and try out more dishes, if I’m in area, although there are a lot of other restaurants round the corner I’d like to try first. 6.8/10 for experience. Overall….
Colbert, not to be confused by the American comedian and writer of the same nomenclature, was opened to replace the Oriel restaurant in October 2012. Colbert the restaurant was created by Jeremy King and Chris Corbin after the Earl of Cadogan, the landlord, was dissatisfied with his meal at the Oriel and chose not to renew its lease.
Two things we don’t see on a French Brasserie or Bistro menu in London are a well balanced soupe à l’oignon or French Onion soup and a menu that includes Pastis, let alone a selection of it to choose from.
These have never been removed nor changed from the menu since I have been coming here for over 6 years.
French Onion Soup and Ricard at Colbert, Chelsea
As a morose Goldilocks warned with her; too hot, too cold and just right porridge tasting, we must take heed as French onion soup lovers, to appreciate when the broth is present and not gravy like. The black pepper swirls across the melted compté and finally the sweet onion. If it’s not in this order of mouthful; pepper, fat, salt and sweetness, while still nearly burning my tongue to the point that I cannot put my spoon down – I don’t what to know it. Or order it. ever again.
Art deco interiors at the French Brassie Colbert on Sloane Square
The clacking of heel or muffled rubber sole landing on mosaic tiles, is reminiscent of your Victorian town house entrance, or British boarding school corridor. The overhanging art deco spanning the bar, restaurant, splendid bathroom interiors, come in and out of focus like clouds of asbinthe for artists and pastis for poets in 17th Century Saint Germain.
Seasonal vegetarian dish at Colbert London
If you love a globe artichoke steamed with vinaigrette dressing it is a treat heard in so much as each you’ll love it hear when it’s on the menu (it’s off now). It’s the most expensive you can order in London but they’ll make sure you decide at what temperature it’s served to you. It’s trimmed to perfection but I’d still order it alone or with a close friend.
Individual oysters are sourced from Poole and Jersey. There is no more information on their size or taste so you have to spend the £5.95 to find out. I’ve done it for you (it was £4.95 previously) and what can I say?
Huîtres
I like my oysters raw and in any size. Nutty or even better, creamy with a gentle salinity. These are really good. I used to think the creamy part was the belly of the oyster. Turns out it’s the reproductive organs. I’ve a lot to learn about oysters.
Overall
As long as the Cadogan family remain the landlord or Colbert exists, I’ll come back when I can for what I pay a reduced, if not fraction of the price for in France (not necessarily Paris). The key to Colbert is consistency. I’ve never faulted a single dish ordered, yet, seen a change in standard nor a reason to complain. It’s fun, comfortable, with great service added on. Qu’est-ce que ne pas aimer?
Additional costs and considerations
The menu changes slightly with the season, particularly vegetarian items. A 175 ml pour of wine starts from £10.75 and it’s worth checking the draught pours of beer and cider at the bar where you can also order some bites and chat with the friendly bar staff about drinks. Cover Charge is £2.50 at Lunch and Dinner in the Dining Rooms and a 15% service charge will be added to your bill. The dessert menu is lengthy for a brasserie and note-worthy if you have a sweet tooth. They don’t wow but they end the meal nicely if that’s your kind of thing.
London is England but it’s also, well, London. It’s a City and an expensive one at that. After a trip Tesco where you forgot the one item you intended to buy, what do you eat? In your London flat when you have a craving but no ingredients? Order from Deliveroo or other food delivery apps every day?
The Food Scene In London
What about coffee shops (although we’re a tea drinking Nation) and Italian restaurants, sushi chains? Are they any good? Will I get my value for money – as a student, a budget traveller fighting the exchange rate? How about we, the Londoner, not wanting to try new food: it’s too much risk for our hard earned Great British Pound?
International Cuisine for Under £20 in London
British cuisine lacks seasoning or it doesn’t apply the seasonings acquired from lands colonisation. This is the reputation of British food instilled into many non-Brits. We have marmite and the scotch bonnet pepper. Neither are bland.
Vietnamese Pho in London
I like the lunch dine-in option of this chain. To take away or Deliveroo your order can leave you with a lot of noodles that aren’t soggy (as they cleverly separate the noodles from the broth) but to dine-in means you have delightful fresh cut chilli and garlic in vinegar, nuoc cham, chilli oil and if you like sriracha you can go to town on it too. It’s on the table at no extra cost (except the nuoc cham which you can ask to be topped up). They are generous with bean sprouts, mint, coriander and Thai basil.
Price point dining in: £15 (with one main) A beer or starter along with with a pho or other main, between £20-25. There are also choices to make your pho broth vegetarian as well as lots of vegetarian and vegan options on the menu.
Avoiding Tourist Traps In London
So, you’ve paid your extortionate fee to sleep well, refrigerate foodstuffs and already packed Fortnum and Mason tea bags as gifts. Supermarket bought bagged and loose tea leaves taste great too, by the way. So do the biscuits and chocolates from Tesco or Morrisons. It’s how Londoners survive, in case you were wondering.
After scrolling through TikTok and watching you tubers munch on chocolate covered strawberries in Borough Market for the hundredth time.. What do you actually eat here? Whatever you want, of course!
A running theme you’ll notice in this blog is that I like to dine out where I can order menu items or dishes I wouldn’t typically make myself. English breakfasts in London are not something I’m familiar with as I like a Greasy Spoon. Sadly, the reality is that: I liked a Greasy Spoon. I’m not talking about Regency Cafe or E. Pellecci in Bethnal Green. I’m talking about the liquidation prone Greasy Spoon by the laundromat where a bacon sarnie cost £1.50. If you have a kitchen in your air bnb and you’re staying for over 3 nights, buy: a tin of Heinz baked beans from Tesco; along with some eggs, tomato, oyster mushrooms, toast, British Cumberland or Richmond sausages, British bacon and black pudding. It sounds like a lot but it’s not when portioned out.
Alternatively, if you’re kitchen free and like big breakfast, The Ritz Cafe in Hammersmith on the district and piccadilly lines serves you a make your own English Breakfast with a choice of tea or coffee for £7-11.
Indian Street Food in London
Pani puri, dosa, vegetarian delights, lamb, combined with seafood, flavours from Goa are discoveries to be found in Southall. Southall is a West london residential area away from the tourist magnet that is Central London, which can be reached by public transport on the recently built Elizabeth line. It’s street food heaven if you want to nibble away on delights and purchase some spices for cooking. I would dine-in for dosa and reserve the bigger meals with starters, mains and naan with or following a pint, for Brick Lane in Shoreditch, East London. Dosa tastes better when its hot and fresh and enjoyed on a plate, in my opinion. Pani puri needs to eaten standing up by a street cart if you’re to avoid inauthentic add ins or service for bites you pop in your mouth and off you go!
For chaats, puris, pakoras and samosas for under £5 while you stand and chat to locals before deciding where to shop, the two links below offer a starting point into what Indian street food in Southall, London has to offer.
Pret a manger is the typical sandwich chain you’ll see in every Borough of London. More or less. That’s because it’s fresh and located by City offices or where one typically takes out a sandwich and heads back to the office.
£8.70 Deli Sandwich in London
When I think of a deli sandwich, I think filling. Layers and layers of filling, stacked so that I can’t finish the sandwich and the other half can conveniently fill me up later in the day. At £8.70, this offering from Delizie D’Italia for any of their sandwiches – including vegetarian options – is what I would call value for money.
Best Dim Sum In Chinatown London
As much as I’d love to eat it every day or at least once a week, dim sum is not cheap. Cheung fun in London is hit and miss. More on China Town later.. but if you get to Leicester Square I suggest you keep some cash on and make a dash for Kowloon Bakery on Gerrard Street. Grab some fresh – make sure they’re fresh – Youtiao and whatever freshly baked treats take your fancy. Point at the display if you can’t pronounce the items you’d like to try and let the lovely lady get your goods ready while you head to the counter on the right ready to pay. Everything is under £6 per piece, tastes as good as you’ll get in London and not just for the price.
Pro tip for visiting London’s Chinatown: Lo’s Noodle Factory supplies most of Chinatown in London’s dim sum restaurants which noodles and dumpling wrappers. You can purchase these from them directly on Dansey place in Chinatown.
Beijing Dumpling Chinatown London
If you need to rest your legs, I like Beijing Dumpling on Lisle Street in Chinatown for the fact that they don’t care if you’re alone, how much you order, you can see them make the dumplings; it’s hard to spend over £25pp minus alcohol (which is unique for a dim sum spot) and you can order a bottle of house wine for £17.50 and take it home with you if you don’t finish it. It get’s busy at peak times but the queue moves fast. It’s not as instagram-able like Din Tai Fung or Leongs Legend but it does the job.
Nearby (3 min walk away) in the same London China Town at 3-6pm slurp one-pound-a-pop oysters at Burger and Lobster on Wardour Street.
Cheap Pizza in London
If you’re sick of frozen pizza or craving pizza in London as a tourist, there are too many options. If you are visiting from Napoli you’ll shed a tear at the prices. Pizza Union, with various locations throughout East London and one in Kings Cross, doesn’t compare to Napoli but at least we’re talking £4 for a marinara from the start. We are talking about budget eats in London that don’t make you feel like you’re on a budget. So I’m including it as you won’t spend over £10 for a 12 inch pizza here. There is a whole lot of pizza in London. Sicilian, Neapolitan, Roman, etc. May be a discussion for another blog.
Is Wetherspoons Any Good?
The first Wetherspoons pub opened in Wales. You can get a full English there for £6 at most JD Wetherspoons pubs. Along with a pint you can tuck into an array of offerings like burgers and curries. It can get rowdy in the evenings. The clientele can change dramatically, depending on the Wetherspoon’s location, so take note. Or rather, take caution (especially if you’re with children).
If you’re craving a beer and quick bite you can find a Wetherspoon’s pub here, saving you some time on trying figure out how to spot them.
Finally, if you’ve read till the end, I would love to know your budget eats in London. Where did you get the most value for your money eating out in London? Would you be interested in a part 2 from a resident of this City for 25 years? What types of cuisine interest you the most?
The bouncer at the door, the hidden cobbled pathway of Raphael Street, the Knightsbridge address discreetly possessing no view of Harrods while neighbouring a Green King Pub— are all really good things about ZUMA, London. No, really, they are.
Not many people talk about his upscale Japanese restaurant chain, as they do say, Nobu. It doesn’t boast an Omakase Menu. Nor a Michelin Star. Two things that, when it comes to eating raw fish in any Mainland Capital, regardless of what counts for supply-demand freshness, I have an open mind. By that I mean I don’t care.
Wagyu beef
Before we get into details, the interiors and all that vibey stuff, I have to mention I’ve been coming here for after work drinks, snacks, meals (always dinners), blow out birthdays for about a decade.
We give our names for the reservation for 5 at 7pm on a Saturday. I’m used to giving my coat (it was one of those London October days) but for the first time no offer was given to take it and I missed the Zuma emblazoned coat check. I didn’t know it yet but it was a sign of things to come.
We were sat with our backs to the cold wind blowing every opening of the entrance so I asked if it was possible to be sat somewhere else. My request was greeted with the response my grasp of both Knightsbridge service industry and Eastern European etiquette and culture deemed admissible.
All cosy with views of both chefs and grill at a wooden specimen of a table, not out of place in Ibiza: the comfortable deportation trumped their Wifi.
We need to get into the food and drink now as that’s what we’re here for.
Edamame salted and spicy arrives. I notice no one touches the spicy one and that’s because it tastes like warmed up Sriracha on top. I hear the miso soup tastes good from the other three diners. It was placed in front of me and when I handed the tea cup sized portion to my fellow diner, the contents did not pique my curiosity.
The aubergine main character at Zuma, now in the snacks and soup section of the menu, is not here to play. The buttery flesh has no give. It’s skin is so thin that any bitter char whispering smoke into the now baby aubergine cylinder shaped presentation, is obsolete.
The best bite of Aubergine in London yet
japanese aubergine, white sesame and kinome
Creamy caramelised miso paste topped with a thin garnish complete the oblong platter that – since the Post Covid renovation –has changed in both mouth feel and ingredient choice.
I top each subsequent bite with a topping of generous wafer-thin slices of Jalapeño as that’s how I like it. If you ask for them as I did, they cut through the richness, which a toothsome sprig of sprightly coriander to substitute the interminable green on each moreish morsel, is my palate’s only suggestion.
The burnt tomato and aubergine salad made its way into inconsistent dishes unworthy of recommending in future while the Zuma salad, a little over £3 dearer was fresh, ingredient heavy and interesting.
burnt tomato and aubergine salad with smoked tofu, kinome
yaki nasu to tomato no sarada, kunsei tofu zoe
The skewers – always a hit. The lamb chops devoured. The excitement of Umeboshi, mentaiko and shiso (perilla leaf) paired with scallop was undetectable. Each overzealous zebra char formation reminded me that I preferred succulence and sweetness and naturally generous mentaiko flavour; coral, that an in-shell scallop provided.
The chicken wings were passable. The miso cod was left to take away. The otoro was replaced by chu toro in the chef’s selection (special?)
I ordered otoro sashimi (that comes in 3 pieces per serving) expecting each piece to create that just-over-ice sheen like quality of moist melded marbling. What I wasn’t expecting, however, from this premium 3 biter was that the fat was clearly visible. It did not meld or marble. I couldn’t take a one biter without feeling a sheath-like cross section reminiscent of meaty, raw, connective tissue.
It may be a pleasant expectation for a particular cut of this mammal, of which I do not know. I also saw for the first time a glaring hue of green on the wasabi. Having observed the chefs at the table grate the fresh wasabi in all my previous visits, I was grateful for my request of Jalapeño, if not a touch nostalgic for the pure authentic zing that only freshly grated wasabi can bring.
The chopsticks were wooden, to be broken apart by hand as in any high street chain and no resting place for them either, as was previously.
Chutoro and caviar with salmon and tuna
The birthday desert assortment comes as a visual and tasting extravaganza, garnering a bit of a show and fanfare highlighting exotic fruit, matcha ice cream and a chocolate fondant – of which are not individually sold in the dessert menu. Which is a shame. As they are the best of the sum of parts. It’s not always complimentary and the assortment is dependent on the total table spend. This knowledge comes from casual and occasional visitations at ZUMA London, spanning a lengthy frame of time and every possible factor that could contradict this.
Would I return? Absolutely – for my tried and tested. Would I take up the offer of assistance by a sommelier next time? Indeed. The Rosé from Uruguay didn’t hit the mark, although a flung guess at an under £100 bottle of white, the second time round, did.
Zuma London might not be as talked about these days as it once was, mostly tongue-in-cheek, particularly during Covid. However, it still has its hits and attentive staff, that may witter away into one when it’s a busy Saturday night. They did verbally mention that the 15% Service charge doesn’t include tips which is bold but in these economic times perhaps a sobering reflection on the real price of (fine) dining out. The total bill was over £900, including tip over £1000.
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EuroRevs 