Paradise Garage, Bethnal Green

Bethnal Green used to be my stomping ground. The four years I spent in the E1/E3 postcodes during university (before moving to E8 and then E5, so not exactly far away now) saw more house parties than fine dining but as is always the way with up and coming areas, the good restaurants are quick to spot an opportunity. Which is what the guys behind Clapham's The Dairy & The Manor did last July. Opening in the railway arches on Paradise Row, Paradise Garage is an ideal spot for soaking up the last of the spring and summer sun. I fiiiiinally made it over last Wednesday, the keenest bean to try small plates that are big on textures and flavours.

Welcomed in by the first glow of just-lit candles and the friendliest of hosts and hostesses, we were shown to our table at the side of the restaurant. This was the perfect spot to marvel at the tiled walls, the wines upstairs, the touches of turquoise and, of course, the beautiful open kitchen, framed by greenery. While we were choosing champagne, still warm sourdough arrived at the table along with homemade whisky butter and a taster of pickled beetroot that had the perfect bite and tang.

Choosing what to have was tough but, of course, we stepped up to the plate. They recommend two or three small plates to share and the rabbit 'picnic' which comprises of the whole rabbit used in different ways, or three or four small plates each. We went for the latter (although were sorely tempted by the Tasting Menu at £45) and settled in to negotiate choices.

First up came the pork, black pepper and apple salumi which lasted all of five seconds before we delved into the venison tartare and Jerusalem artichoke. This is where the textures started to come into play with the artichoke as a foam and the meat studded lightly throughout to be mopped up all together with the bread.

Then came the cornish crab with fennel, ginger and borage. A little looser and wetter than we were expecting and the brown crab biscuit split on the plate but the fresh fennel brought it all together, and a world away from the fennel kimchi that accompanied the lamb heart - firm slivers rich in flavour themselves amongst the slick sourness of the pickle.

From the 'Garden' section we ordered the portobello mushrooms with bagna cauda and raw turnip on rye. This was our least favourite dish of the day, overshadowed by what had come before, but by no means a duff order. The stronger flavours of the cod from the 'Sea' section were the more memorable; smoked fish, strong roe, confit salsify and a ketchup.

For dessert, we ordered cheese (can't take a French guy anywhere without having to judge the cheese plate) and the white chocolate parfait which was perfectly balanced by blood orange (a little less so by carrot). And Armagnac. Because French, naturally.

Had it been around during my uni days, I would probably have spent all of my student loan and bar earnings at Paradise Garage. From the attention to the different textures, to the prettiness of the plates (both the food and the crockery) and the warmest welcome, Gill and the team have proven that they're top of their game yet again. Four out of five.

(beautiful photo via - I was too busy eating to snap)

Pennethorne's Cafe, Somerset House

Thinking of heading to Fashion Week later this month? You'll be needing a pitstop then, won't you? Pennethorne's Cafe in the New Wing is the perfect place.

Chic black walls and tiled floor (perfect for Instagramming), a light but tasty European-inspired sharing menu and cocktails to see you through. Find out why else this is the perfect spot over at Try This For.

Morden & Lea

If you think of food in Leicester Square, your mind is instantly drawn to queues outside KFCs, Burger Kings and McDonalds and the incessant stream of people making a beeline for M&M World. But if you venture a stone's throw away, towards Chinatown, you'll find a fantastic little addition to the British restaurant scene in Morden & Lea.

Watch out for the powder blue frontage among the sea of maroon Irish pubs and Chinese restaurants, and step inside to a slick, tiled brasserie. A flank of booths leads you towards the industrial styled bar at the back, where you can sit on high tables, before heading upstairs to what they call their more 'refined dining experience' (although you can get just as good lighter snacks downstairs).

We started off with a couple of cocktails (half price between 4pm and 7pm) and boy, were they good. I went for the East India Cocktail, a heady mix of vermouth, eau de vie, raspberries, curacao and maraschino cherry. Fruity without being overly sweet, the dry depth shone through and who can resist anything that comes topped with chocolate? Emma went for the Halah with citrus sharp with pink grapefruit and bitters.

And then upstairs into the serene dining room that was both elegant and yet relaxed. Lots of art on the walls and the friendliest of waiters who swept delicious bread and oil on to the table and were experts at spying a near-empty water glass. The genius Mark Sergeant has made all men equal here with a set menu: 2 courses for £29 and 3 for £35. Which makes decisions both deliciously easy and difficult.

In the end, I went for the rabbit tortelloni with peas, pommery mustard sauce and bacon. Having only eaten rabbit for the first time earlier this year (as buttermilk fried), this could have been my downfall but I think I'm a total convert. The parcels of pasta were perfectly cooked with the meat inside tender, and perfectly accompanied by the slight bite of the mustard sauce. Salty lardo added an extra dimension and the peas brought some sweetness to the plate. 

I was too busy wolfing down my pasta to try Emma's mackerel rillettes on prawn toast with cucumber white grape gazpacho but empty plates are good signs, right?

For mains, we did the bad thing and ordered the same fillet of cod with crispy, crunchy black rice. Lifted by sweet vegetables, this time in the form of courgette, and brought back to another plane with salty, smoky squid and chorizo, this dish was exquisite. 

We washed these down with another cocktail (this time with whisky, grain, tobacco and bitters) and a glass of red each and went the whole hog with puddings. Emma's gypsy tart was devilishly sweet and sumptuous while my set chocolate with hazelnuts, mocha sherbet and praline mousse was one of the smartest ends to a meal I've ever had. Top marks for total defeat. 

Seriously though, I was seriously impressed with Morden & Lea. It's shot straight into my recommendations list and would be back in a heartbeat. Hats off.

Vintage Salt, Selfridges

A few seasons ago, Selfridges had the bright idea of opening up their prime real estate rooftop and introducing themed bars and restaurants for shoppers, tourists and locals alike. Last winter it was Le Chalet with Alpine wooden panelling, blankets and more hot chocolate than bloggers could shake a stick at. This summer, it's Vintage Salt and inspired by Cornish fishing villages all decked out in blues and Breton striped servers.

After a brilliantly boozy brunch one Saturday at Pachamama (read about it here) and some attempts at shopping, Soph and I ventured up for a drink. An unsuccessful and frustrating 30 minutes later, we left empty-handed as four attempts to order drinks had been ignored. Ouch. We managed to catch Simon, the manager, on our way out and he later invited us back for a bottle of sparkling wine.

With that in mind, we returned last Thursday on a warmish, sunny evening just perfect for catch ups. Soph had just celebrated her one year anniversary with her boyfriend so the English sparkling wine was a nice little treat (whilst I, on the other hand, recently celebrated a six month anniversary with mine and now it is no more, so slightly less of a celebration there).

The weekly printed menu tells you the weather forecast and the food is heavily fishy, which is right up my winding little Cornish alley. We decided to kick off with the London particulars fritters, made from pea and ham hock and served with a light mustard mayonnaise. The batter was light, the seasoning was good and the mayo had the right amount of kick to complement.

Mains next and Sophie went for the Josper grilled spring chicken. A huge portion (it has to be at £18.50), it's smothered with a tangy barbecue marinade and finished on the grill du jour to combine that charcoal taste with the surety of an actually cooked piece of chicken. It came served with a spicy slaw which lifted the entire dish completely and was eagerly mopped up by both of us.

I chose the sea bass a la plancha which came with surf clams and wilted beach greens - in my case, samphire. It was well pan-fried with a lovely colour but a little underseasoned and a little dry on the whole. Swiping some of the slaw from the chicken was a brilliant idea and those truffle chips? To absolutely die for and hugely worth ordering.

We finished on the brownie sundae dip (although were very tempted by the chocolate burger) and a deliberately upturned ice cream cone spilling with marshmallow, brownie pieces and chocolate crumb arrived at the table. Scooped up with plenty of chocolate ice cream and the obligatory cone, this was a finale that wasn't overkill. It was also, perhaps, the most authentic Cornish village dish of the day.

All in all Vintage Salt was great, but a little underwhelming ultimately. The staff are friendly and attentive when you need them but the food didn't blow me away. It's busy and popular and the ideal place for people-watching but if you're after the fishy wow factor, I'd suggest trying one of these fine fisheries.

Top photo via

Duck and Waffle

Some people set sensible resolutions: 'I'll work out', 'I'm doing dry January', 'I'll eat well'. I didn't set myself any of those unless you count my interpretation of eating well to be eating at great places rather than turning to the rabbit food. It's been a mixed bag so far but this week really kicked things off - first with a great meal at Tozi and then with what was firmly one of the best meals I've ever eaten at Duck and Waffle.

Our late night reservation had been weeks in the making so by the time Saturday night rolled around, I was raring to hit the lift up to the 40th floor and survey my stomping ground below. For the uninitiated among you, Duck & Waffle sits pretty on the 40th floor of the Heron Tower and is open 24/7 so whether you're in need of a morning pick me up, a late night lounge or simply in the mood for a cocktail, this place ticks all the boxes. Just perhaps avoid if you're afraid of heights.

Luckily for us, S and I are huge fans of high places and we decided to raise a toast to our fantastic little corner table which gave us views across the city in two directions (seriously, try and nab one if you can, I promise you it's worth it). And of course, we had to break bread. Fresh out of the oven and deliciously hot nduja and gruyere bread, naturally, before choosing what else to feast upon.

Like a lot of places at the moment, Duck and Waffle is all about the small plates. Big enough to share, not enough to overwhelm and just the right amount to make you fall in love, they came thick and fast from the open kitchen and had us speechless in appreciation.

We kicked off with the achingly smooth Angus beef carpaccio which comes garnished with small spots of truffle, foie gras and pecorino - combinations of woody, earthy flavours that compliment the mild meat brilliantly. This is a dish I could happily eat for the rest of my life. Next up, the roasted octopus - succulent octopus combined with the meaty, almost tomatoey flavours of melting chorizo were melded together with lemon and caper for a bit of bite and mixed with potatoes. I gleefully scooped this up with first fork and then bread while S barely got a look in, because it was such a perfect plate.

Then came the Scotch bhaji - a new twist on the classic Scotch egg that's seeing a surge of popularity at the moment. Cumberland sausage meat encased a beautifully runny yolk, and crispy deep fried onion wrapped the whole thing together. It arrived on the plate like some twining vine with crunchy tendrils to break off and dip into the caramelised onion yoghurt. Fourth was the hugely decadent foie gras creme brulee with lobster  - if ever there was a time to forget the diet, this must be it. The pot of molten pate, topped with the classic sugary crust which satisfyingly split with a crack or two of the teaspoon, demanded simultaneous dipping of the moreish lobster tails and the brioche toast immediately.

Our final dish - and perhaps the one we didn't really need to order because the first four plates were exceptionally filling - was the jerusalem artichoke ravioli. From the 'For the table' part of the menu, this is meant as a sharer and sits alongside the eponymous duck and waffle which (whisper it) we didn't really fancy ordering. Instead, this gorgeous pasta dish came served in a heavy skillet and was topped with charred cauliflower, smoked butter and malt crumble - a sexy comfort food if ever there was and tasty enough to satisfy my meat-loving companion.

I would have loved to have tried one of the desserts - especially the pistachio and dark chocolate macaroon sandwich with drunken cherries - but I was so full from gorging on the fantastic mains that I think it's a brilliant excuse for another visit. Rich (the cocktail maestro) sent us over two delicious cocktails to try: the Duck & Stormy (rum and ginger in a brown bag) and a Removed Aviation (gin, violet and citrus juices) so we graciously sipped on those instead before bowing out at a civilised 1am.

Having looked forward to eating at Duck and Waffle ever since it opened, it definitely didn't disappoint. Dining at height late at night lent itself perfectly to romance and fun in equal measures; the ever-changing atmosphere reflected the ever-changing clientele, and we were bouncing around to Al Green and Mark Morrison from start to finish. The service, as you'd expect, was brilliant - unobtrusive but friendly, polite and there when you needed them and still going after hours on end. My only gripe? That I can't call that little corner table my own and eat there whenever I'd like... Maybe that can be next year's resolution.

Jones&Sons at Trip Kitchen

Haggerston: the No Man's Land between Shoreditch and Stoke Newington. More of a 'passing through' kind of place than a real destination, it's being snapped up by property developers as the next area to throw up luxury flats. The real charm though is under the railway arches and next to the canal. Tonkotsu East's cottoned on to this and it seems as if Jones&Sons have now too.

This is Jones&Sons' second outpost - the first being up the road in Dalston - and they've taken up residency in Trip Space, a cultural hangout where you can yoga one minute and hot desk the next. Ella, Ashley and I were invited down to check it out last week and were promised great British food in a contemporary setting.

We weren't disappointed. Initial impressions were welcoming - warm light glows from the glass frontage showcasing the exposed brickwork and bustling bar within - second impressions were slightly less so as it took quite a while for us to be acknowledged but we'll be generous and put it down to opening jitters.

Onto the food and drink. There's a nice selection of draught and bottled beer (although Ashley chose Estrella) but being a girl, I headed straight for the cocktail menu and went for an easy choice of the Joan Collins - a zesty combination of gin, elderflower, lemon and fizz, a sharp but sweet boozy lemonade. Ella went for something involving egg white - I realise that's a pretty exhaustive list of potential options but for someone who's previously steered clear of any with it in, I wasn't paying much attention. Having said that, it won me over. Success.

Then it was onto the food. Jones&Sons have forgone every date night dilemma of not choosing the most expensive dish on the menu by standardising the pricing - starters are all £7, mains £11, sides are 2 for £7. And desserts? Who cares how much they cost. We were spoilt for choice and could practically have eaten one of everything on offer but waistlines and professionalism considered, we decided to swap and share.

First up, my salmon tartare. Served with nice crisp toasts (more please though), the perfectly diced fish was achingly good. Clean flavours were complemented by dill and capers, and the slided cucumber haphazardly presented on top added a good bit of crunch. Ashley had the battered courgette flower with goats curd and tomato - I'm a total fiend for goats cheese and the classic combination of textures on the plate were pulled off well with the tart tomatoes cutting through the smooth, salty curd and the crisp batter. My only gripe would be that £7 seems a little steep for just one stem. Ella's grilled squid with morcilla and parsley crumb was stand out though; the tender seafood griddled rather than deep fried to maintain a nice bounce whilst the meaty sausage crumb added another level of flavour. This I'd order again. And again.

Onto the mains. Ashley and I both had the Butcher's steak with Bearnaise. More commonly known as 'Hanger steak', it's from the diaphragm of the cow and one of those cuts that are having a resurgence in popularity. I like my steaks so rare it's almost still mooing, this was cooked to perfection and served with the moreish Bearnaise for dipping. Ella went for the lamb belly with lentils and beetroot (and I failed to get a snap) but she declared it a masterpiece so further props right here. Beefing up our mains, we shared two sides between us - the mac and cheese, obviously (not bad), and the kale (underseasoned and a bit soggy) - and discussed whether the standardised pricing works for mains or not.

Of course, we had to continue with little needed but much wanted desserts - I went for the treacle tart with clotted cream and Ash and Ella went for the sticky toffee pudding with ice cream. Nicely executed, if widely varying in portion control, but I probably would have gone for something chocolatey or fruity given the opportunity seeing as I could now practically roll myself out of the restaurant.

Jones&Sons is a great little place that's unassuming, friendly and open all day so you can start and finish the day (in a food coma) in one laidback location. The staff are really friendly, if a little rushed off their feet when busy, but always on hand to persuade you that yes, you really do need that last bite of saccharine sweetness. Four out of five from me.

The Noah's Ark, Lurgashall

I had to dash home last minute at the weekend to do a bit of house- and cat-sitting. The mad dash for a seat on the train home is worth it the second you step off the other end and are whisked home through beautiful tunnels of orange and red leaves. I hadn't been back since the summer - which in itself is always glorious back home - but the countryside is so much better in the autumn. Those crisp mornings, those freezing nights and wait a second, are those actually stars? I grew up outside a sleepy village in the middle of nowhere so spent most of those angsty teenage years surrounded by fields and clawing together money to escape by working in the various local pubs.

One of the places that I didn't work was the Noah's Ark, in Lurgashall. Sitting pretty on one of the most picturesque greens, this gastropub is hugely popular in the summer - and so too it seems, on a Friday lunchtime in October. This may have something to do with how gorgeous a day it was - perfect blue skies and so warm we just had to start with a bottle of wine outside.

Moving inside for lunch, we were both swayed by the daily special of scallops with pancetta. The sweet honeyed meat of the scallops was perfectly countered by the accompanying saltiness and crispiness. Expertly grilled, they were so moreish that my only gripe (which is always my only gripe when it comes to scallops) is that there weren't more. But I think my bank balance is thankful for this.

From there, I was torn between the seabass (told you I'm a safe bet) and the tempura battered haddock and chips (a pub staple) but went for the (unimaginative) baked camembert that was oozing with melting goodness and studded with garlic and rosemary. I devoured this with lashings of bread and a rocket and parmesan salad whilst dad chose the burger: a huge patty that was still perfectly pink, accompanied by bacon and cheese as standard and the added bonus of a grilled portobello mushroom all wrapped up in a toasted bun with plenty of chunky chips to keep him busy. Typical pub fare maybe but done well. 

Finished off with a latte for dad, an affogato for me and plenty of reminiscing from the both of us. The Noah's Ark is one of those places that reminds me so much of my younger years and being both sides of bars, the slow pace of life and how everyone knows your name (sometimes good, sometimes definitely not). Worth a visit if you're in the area. Or even if you're not. Just go.

New Street Grill

Blink and you'll miss it. New Street Grill is tucked down an alley, a stone's throw away from Liverpool Street station, but far enough off the beaten track that you'd never know it was there. I hadn't heard of it until J invited me out for L's birthday; I found them all sitting outside in the very summery Old Bengal Bar garden. You see, the Old Bengal Warehouse - apparently London's oldest surviving spice and tobacco warehouse in the City - houses not one but three bar/restaurants and a wine shop. The guys at D&D have been busy.

We moved next door into the New Street Grill and while waiting for G, ordered the first of our three bottles of red (which helpfully I now can't remember the name of, other than it was a Cote du Rhone). The restaurant's dark and seductive - lots of leather and low lighting for getting lost in - and divided up into booths and tables, all flanked by a floor to ceiling wall-length wine fridge that houses some of the 350 bottles on offer. The menu is leather bound too and brought with the wine and warm bread, making decisions hard as drinking and eating take over. 

With a nod to its name, there is indeed a selection of dishes from the grill - from cuts of Angus and wagyu beef to lobster - but also a 'crustacea' section offering oysters and a shellfish platter, and partridge and grouse for the gamier tastes. Alongside the a la carte, they also offer a Saturday set menu (three courses and an after dinner cocktail for £24.50) which was far too tempting to pass up. 

I started with the venison carpaccio - the expertly thin slices of sweet were perfectly sweet, coupled with the tangy parmesan and rocket, and a nice alternative to the standard beef. From there I was tempted by the braised daube of beef with creamed potatoes and red wine jus (which looked amazing) but went for the slightly more predictable pan fried seabass, celeriac puree and braised leeks. I just like seabass, okay?! Perfectly crispy skin, smooth puree and buttery leeks - I just wish there had been more of it. Very small sides of buttery new potatoes and baby carrots were nice accompaniments but the lobster macaroni was (unsuccessfully) calling my name.

Dessert was a mixed bunch - I went for the iced brownie parfait which was a real disappointment. Sizeable chunks of brownie but the accompanying ice cream was practically tasteless and left me hankering for the Colston Basset stilton and spiced pear chutney that the others had chosen. 

We'd drank the place out of the Cotes du Rhone at this point so decided to settle up and head next door for our complimentary cocktail. A more industrial but still dark sliver of space, the Old Bengal Bar promised to get busy later but never really delivered. Nonetheless, the cocktail was pretty good - Mount Gay Black Barrel rum, Maraschino liquor, grapefruit juice with lime and sugar syrup. A bit of a knock out after all.

New Street Grill has its pros and cons - it promises to be a 'destination' and could be a real star in an area of the city that is pretty underserved in smarter restaurants, and the service is very friendly and attentive, but the food is just a touch underwhelming and the Bengal Bar a little 'Deliverance' in style. Three and a half out of five.

The Hackney Pearl

Hackney has been London's darling for a while now. Restaurants, shops, markets, classes - you'd be hard-pressed to find it lacking anything you really need, which is why there's something pretty good round every corner. There's a small corner of Hackney that's a little less known (unless you're an East Londoner), although no less loved, which is great for balmy evenings spent by the canal or just round the corner from it in The Hackney Pearl.

(via)

There's very much a cafe vibe to the place. Lots of benches for outside seating, mismatched furniture and bare walls inside, an open kitchen and tables that you imagine were salvaged from somewhere hugely in need of an overhaul. But it's charming. And welcoming. And open all day and night, so whether you're in for a lunchtime coffee or in the late night long haul like us, it's a great find.

We started with a pint of Meantime London Lager for him and a fittingly feminine drink for me that involved prosecco, vodka, limoncello, basil and berries and was possibly one of the nicest concoctions I've had in a while. And of course, it'd have been rude to not look at the wine list. I chose a bottle of 1997 Decenio Rioja that was syrupy smooth and perfectly on the edge of unadulterated bliss. First decisions aside, it was now down to the food.

Whilst being terribly indecisive, we shared the homemade focaccia that was brought to the table salted and with olive oil for dipping, then chose what to begin with. He had roasted fennel with milano salami and sumac aioli - deliciously simple but a nice trio of ingredients that brought sweetness to the saltiness of the meat and a bite of tartness. I went for the smoked mackerel pate and toast - it came smoother than I was expecting but well seasoned and even good enough to make the the non-fish fan across the table appreciate it.

From there, we had the onglet steak (£16) which came with huge skin-on chunky chips and garlic butter. Perfectly pink (they serve it rare) it was melt in the mouth good and a massively generous portion that was swiftly demolished? Did it need a sauce? Perhaps but we were too busy devouring everything to really mind. I had the roasted seabass fillet with roasted tomatoes (so sweet they were almost sunblushed), aubergine and courgette which blew me out of the water. Too often these vegetables when roasted lose flavour and form to become an unappetising mush but their firm sweetness was really impressive and complemented the crisp skin of the bass and the soft flesh beneath.

Another bottle of red in and we were ready for dessert. The menu here is a little disappointing and harks more to its cafe roots than offering restaurant-ready puddings. Nevertheless, we chose the vanilla and brownie ice cream and the affogato to cleanse our palates but I left dreaming of cake or something a bit more decadent.

The service was some of the friendliest I've had in London; attentive enough but laidback enough to be able to share a joke and have a conversation with. No stark uniforms here but shorts and smiles instead. And the atmosphere? We were there quite a while and people drifted in for drinks, for dinner, to use the wifi, to eat cake and bring different types of conversation to the table.  Music was good too and despite being the last ones to leave, we could have stayed all night. Nice.

There's a contrived statement in here about Hackney and pearls so I won't labour the point but it gets four and a half out of five from me.

Menier Chocolate Factory restaurant

This place sounded right up my street. A restaurant in a former chocolate factory? Say no more, I'm sold.

I'd been tasked with finding a restaurant for lunch before we went to see The Comedy of Errors at The Globe (more on that soon) on Friday. We needed to be close enough to dash off to our seats once we'd eaten our fill, didn't want anything too expensive and didn't want a chain. That narrowed our selection down quite significantly so after some Googling and Try This For-ing, I laboriously booked the Menier Chocolate Factory for our pre-theatre dining.

It was never going to be easy though, was it? My mum's train was delayed which meant we had to push our table back (which was fine) and hotfoot it down the packed South Bank to Southwark. Finally arriving at Menier, we were greeted with a beautiful old warehouse building that, true to its name used to be the site of a chocolate factory, now houses a restaurant, bar, rehearsal room and theatre. We had just over forty five minutes to order and eat which was always going to be a push, despite the very friendly and accommodating staff, so any expectations of a relaxing lunch went completely out of the window.

Mum went off-piste and ordered the burger (£11) - patty, bacon, cheddar, relish and lettuce - served with chunky chips and a small pot of ketchup on the side. Predictably, the behemoth that arrived was vast and a little on the dry side but for someone who doesn't tend to order burgers that often, devoured in double quick time.

I went for the carne sharing platter, the size of which is in the name. A vast plate of chorizo, parma ham, teruel lomo was fringed with two slabs of duck and ham hock terrine (dry but I soldiered on), tzatziki (underlyingly fizzy but also soldiered on), olives and huge amounts of warm khobez bread. At £15, the portion size of some of the elements was more than ample but the ingredients themselves were a little lacking in flavour, taste and finesse. I didn't manage to finish as time was against us so I felt a little bit done in when handing over my card for the bill but reassured that we hadn't opted for a pricier menu.

Saying our goodbyes, we fled back to the river just in time to take our seats for what, of course, would be the showstopper of the day. Shakespeare, of course, can do no wrong. Menier Chocolate Factory, on the other hand, gets a two and a half out of five from me.

Bones

House hunting is hungry work. Whilst we're almost over the final hurdle (you wouldn't believe how stressful - and expensive - this past week has been), last Thursday saw the end of solo viewing as A was back from holidays. Off we traipsed to Clapton to view a place that inevitably wasn't quite right so we declared ourselves done for the day and headed off to meet a friend for uni and to commiserate.

We ended up at Bones - a newish opening on Kingsland Road. Its name suggests a whole manner of predictable Americana with ribs aplenty but the menu pleasingly describes itself as 'Modern European' instead. I'm all for a dirty burger (many forays into MeatMission and BRGR.Co have been well documented) but I'm a little over the underwhelming shouting of meat everything.

So we rocked up and were seated at one of the crazily tight booths above that even the most familiar of friends like us found a bit of a squeeze. Nevertheless, we pored over the menu and ordered the sourdough bread to sate our hunger whilst I was on her way. We also decided what we were all going to have during this wait - you snooze, you lose after all.

Rather than opting for a main each (of which there are six such as a whole roast chicken for two, or seabass for one) we went for the small plates to dig in and share starting with the breaded crab claws with chipotle mayo. As a recent convert to crab, I was a little nervous but the meat was juicy and tasty and slipped off the bone.

Plates came out as and when, as is the oh-so-easy on the kitchen trend at the moment, so picking was definitely the order of the day. The burrata with garlic pesto on sourdough was always going to be a must-order and was nice enough, the baby gnocchi with courgette spaghetti and chorizo was tasty but could have done with a bit of an extra kick of heat from both chilli and the oven, and the aubergine with feta and pomegranate would have been divine if the aubergine wasn't cold and soggy - instead a quick flash under the grill would have kept a nice bit of bite. I'm going through a mac and cheese moment so naturally had to order their version with leeks (nice and cheesy but not as tasty as The Advisory's version with blue cheese folded in), accompanied by fries and crispy kale.

Everything was great on paper and I really wanted to love everything but the finesse wasn't quite there on the dishes. Don't get me wrong, we polished everything off and left pleasantly full but it wasn't as fulfilling as Licky Chops, say. We did, however, stay until they were almost throwing us out because you just can't leave when I's telling you a story about how she hiked up Mount Bator in leather shorts with a clutch bag, can you?

Three and a half out of five for Bones.

The Shed, Notting Hill

Following the disappointment of last week's meal at 21, I was on the hunt for somewhere to knock me completely out of the water. After a Friday night filled with beer and ferocious games of Articulate (we're wild), Saturday called for some civility and dinner was the perfect answer so I left rough-and-ready East to meet Sophie on the other, more pristine side of town.

After a couple of gin and tonics at hers, we decided to jump on the bus to Notting Hill and try for a table at The Shed (somewhere I'd chosen, having imaginatively googled 'restaurants Notting Hill'). Tucked off the main drag, The Shed's a tiny barn of a building hidden behind trellis and creepers that if you weren't looking, you'd probably miss. But miss it we didn't and managed to bag one of the last tables before the 9pm rush.

The interior is deceptively small, but with the help of cleverly placed wall mirrors at either end of the restaurant you'd be forgiven that there were double the number of diners with you. And as you'd expect from a place called The Shed, the decor's quite rustic - lots of wood and old school metal bar stools, gardening implements strung across the ceiling and colourful oil drums standing as table bases. They have a combination of individual tables, bar type benches and the bookable Butcher's Table to choose from and suit your mood - we chose the benches for a proper catch up and with twee-sounding Twinkles in hand, dove straight into the delicious sounding menu.

Like many a place these days, The Shed's built on sharing plates, and split further into mouthfuls (canape type bites), cured meats (self-explanatory, from Nutbourne Manor in Sussex), slow cooking and fast cooking and they recommend two or three of the daily-changing dishes apiece. We chose from each section of the menu and were definitely not disappointed.

First up, thick wedges of The Shed's sourdough bread. Light and fluffy and perfect for pulling apart and smothering with butter whilst we waited for the broad bean hummus, heritage carrots and dukkah to arrive. We dove straight in to it - chunky and green and spiked with the minty flavours of the dukkah. Crisp purple carrots and the thinnest of crisp bread were ideal for spooning and scraping this fresh little starter for ten.

Soon after, the Nutbourne air-cured ham arrived. These were deliciously thick slices of deep red ham (none of that anaemic meat you find in supermarkets) with ribbons of salty fat around the outside and peppery rocket to offset it all, carved straight from the joint by the resident butcher. Then came the hake with lemon potato vinaigrette, peppers, samphire and dill which was one of the stand-out dishes (amongst all the other stand-outs) of the evening with the crispy-skinned fish sitting plump on the tangy yet creamy lemon potatoes. I could gladly eat this for the rest of my life and have every intention on attempting to recreate it at home as soon as I can.

Then - and we started to wonder if the kitchen times their 'courses' with perfect precision - came the black tagliatelle with Portland brown crab that we'd been warned was very fishy. Fishy it was, but perfectly so. The wide ribbons of pasta were coated in the tasty, salty crab meat and finished with a kick of chilli and garlic that just melted altogether in the mouth. As a recent convent to crab, this dish could have been completely overwhelming and off-putting but I loved its bold flavours even more.

The penultimate dish was the pan fried goats cheese with honey, thyme and hazelnuts. With a nod to French cuisine and their penchant for serving cheese halfway through the meal, this was a tangy little palate cleanser that's had me aching over it for days. Honey and goats cheese is a classic combination but the added crunch of the hazelnuts really brought this to life. Ideal ahead of the Sussex lamb, rainbow cauliflower, spinach, rosemary and almonds that came out last. I never eat lamb so ordering this dish could have been a real mistake but the perfectly pink meat coupled with the rich rosemary jus and florets of cauliflower were a match made in heaven that even the hardiest of non-lamb lovers (me) couldn't fault. Whether I'm completely converted remains to be seen, however.

We were so full after this so didn't manage the coveted cheese or puddings, but instead went for another cocktail each. I chose the to-die for 'Daily Loosener' of Sipsmith vodka, summer berries (a devilishly soaked cherry), lemon, cardamom and soda. Order it everywhere you can as this drink is a keeper.

Everything was on absolute point at The Shed this evening. The atmosphere was buzzing, music was whimsical (Hot 8 Brass Band's cover of Marvin Gaye, for example) and the service impeccable. From the warm smile when we walked in to the constant top up of our water, the waiters and waitresses were really friendly and unobtrusive and an absolute delight to have buzzing around.  Our meal worked out at £51 each (including the 12.5% tip) but is definitely one of the best I've ever had in London, so I'll definitely be back. Five out of five, for sure.

21 Covent Garden

I thought I'd heard good things about 21, in Covent Garden. I'd heard stories of an impeccable dining experience that put other restaurants to shame. Where I'd heard these rumours from I don't know because that certainly wasn't what we experienced on Saturday.

I'd booked a table believing a warm Saturday lunchtime to be prime for a place with such good reviews, but needn't have bothered. Whilst the Terrace out on the piazza was brimming with diners, we were pointed downstairs to the rather empty and tired-looking restaurant for our table.

That was fit for one, not two. Next to a brick wall. After being unceremoniously moved, we were given the rather concise wine list. With only two roses on the list - one sweet and the other too old a vintage to be worth drinking - we were pushed to the whites and chose a trusty bottle of Pinot Grigio. Which came out warm. Attempts to switch it for a cold bottle were futile but we were given a cooler filled with ice which helped bring down more than one temperature.

Moving on, it was time to browse the menu and we decided to make the most of the sharing plates on offer. And here is where 21 started to redeem itself. We started with the trio of crostini: vine plum, tomato and basil which had the right amount of citrusy/vinegary zing to bring the flavours to life; beetroot cured salmon with horseradish cream and pink peppercorn that was perfectly balanced and hugely moreish; and the goat's cheese and parma ham with fig, the classic combination of sweet, salt and tang which I could happily eat over and over. We also chose the seabass fillet which came served on a mountain of 'bronzed fennel caponata'. Despite it tasting more like ratatouille, the caponata was a strong accompaniment to the brilliantly cooked fish and very reasonable at £6.95 for a portion that most would serve as a main. We rounded off our starters with the fried baby squid with saffron aioli - dainty and thankfully crisp (not chewy), these were lovely and my only complaint is that there wasn't more of them!

For mains, we decided on the antipasto platter, still dreaming of our time in Puglia. Served on a board, there was a selection of salami (crudo, parma, bresaola and milano), cheese (goat's, comte, blue and a soft), bread (flatbread, a stale white baguette and some juicy foccacia) and a handful of grapes that may or may not have had a few missing from a previous nibbler. Nevertheless, we consumed the lot.



So the food itself was mostly great, but the rest of the 21 experience left a lot to be desired. Seated near the kitchen (in the empty restaurant) we did see lots of kitchen hands carrying large sauce tubs past our table, there were only salt and pepper shakers and not grinders (a huge bugbear of mine) on the table, and there was little atmosphere to speak of, which was a shame given we were in the heart of Covent Garden.

The website talks of an 'Italian' experience complete with the terrace in the piazza and another bar in the building but I don't think I'll be going back to experience either. With a glut of great restaurants in London, this one just doesn't make the cut. Two and a half out of five, if I'm being generous.

The Empress, Victoria Park

Trying to find somewhere that will cater for an estimated 10-12 people, all with different budgets, tastes and appetites on a Saturday night for a birthday was never going to be easy. I wanted somewhere that served a mixture of small plates and large, didn't take a credit card reservation and wouldn't squeeze us into a tiny room somewhere. I ran through some of my East London favourites such as Bistrotheque, 8 Hoxton Square, Dead Doll's Club, Raw Duck... but none of them quite worked. Suddenly I was struck with inspiration and booked in at The Empress in Victoria Park Village.

This place first stole my heart a couple of years back when I went to catch up with my friend Harry who was sous-chef under Rosette-winning Head Chef Elliot. A bright and airy restaurant, deep leather sofas, wooden board games, exposed brickwork and an open kitchen make this place somewhere that you instantly feel at home in. The first time I went I sat at the bar and chatted to the friendly barmaid while plate after plate of food was put in front of me - on the house. I gorged on the worth-writing-home-about crispy pigs ears and apple sauce, savoured a tangy mackerel fillet with bulgar wheat and pickled beetroot main course and lost myself in a fruity panna cotta. It was somewhere I vowed to go again.

Fast forward a couple of years and, despite Harry no longer working there, I couldn't resist popping in to celebrate turning 25 in with six of my pals. After a couple of much-needed Bloody Marys at The Crown on the way, we jumped straight on to our table and began the hugely arduous task of deciding what to eat.

The Empress' menu is perfect for those who like to try a bit of everything. They offer generous helpings of bar snacks as well as usual starters and mains and there's nothing wrong with jumping around a bit. Whilst we were deciding we ordered a couple of baskets of freshly baked bread from the E5 bakehouse that we then proceeded to smother with unsalted butter, topped with fresh salt flakes. Choices made, we asked for our food to be brought out all together so that we could all chow down at the same time. This we were promised, but in reality it definitely didn't happen.

I chose two dishes: the first, raw beef with avocado, lime and chilli. The citrus zing complemented the meat perfectly, adding a cool bite to the tender bit of steak. Presented prettily with pea shoots and other microherbs, this was a dish that I could eat over and over again without any semblance of guilt. And for my second, other guilt-free dish? I went for a perennial old favourite of whole baked camembert with homemade chutney and thin slices of sourdough toast. Coming long after everyone else had finished their onglets, polenta and courgette, whitebait and ham croquettes, it was a typically countrified affair presented on a beautiful wooden board with the crisp slivers for dunking. Warm, gooey and oozing I definitely polished off the entire lot but had to ask for another round of toast that only came just as I was scooping out the last of the cheese with a fork. Hmm, disappointing.

We decided to forgo dessert (although my friends did buy me a shot of tequila instead and proceeded to sing Happy Birthday whilst I buried my face in my hands) and finish off the second (or was it third) bottle of red we'd ordered. The food in The Empress is definitely something to write home about (told you those pigs ears were good) but the service let it down this time. But I'll definitely be going back and this favourite gets a four out of five, nonetheless.

The Horseguards Inn, Tillington

The day before a holiday is never as relaxing as you expect it to be, and ours was definitely not about to buck the trend. After run-ins with the neighbours, long waits for the police (long story) and bundling two huge cats off to the cattery, our holiday started the moment we sat down for the day-before lunch.

Surprisingly, I've never worked in The Horseguards. Despite growing up in the next village and working in no less than four pubs and restaurants in the area on and off before finally shedding the hospitality cloak and waving goodbye to being a student, this popular little pub in the rolling hills of the South Downs was a welcome new destination.

The best word to describe this place is 'quaint'. Small collectibles adorn every available bit of wall, the furniture's artfully mismatched and there are luxurious ponyskins on the floor. Open inglenooks play host to candles in the summer, roaring fires in the winter; there are two pianos if you fancy tickling the ivories and their country garden is looked after by free roaming chickens.

The menu is seasonal and sourced as locally and ethically as possible. A lot of the ingredients are homemade - from the pickles to the preserves, breads to brandies - and you can buy them in The Store too. I was hugely tempted by the pork rillette (I told you, they're totally my thing) and the prawns, which were both starters, but decided on the hake fillet with sea orache, crushed new potatoes and Horseguards spreaded chorizo. The meaty white fish had perfectly crispy skin and flaked easily from the fork, to be scooped up with lashings of the buttery and creamy potatoes and the vitamin-rich orache. The salty, spicy chorizo added a brilliant depth and warmth to the plate and this was particularly good with the side of spring greens and seasonal veg. Mum chose the whole Selsey plaice with Jersey Royals and a buttery caper mayonnaise and this was demolished just as swiftly.

Despite being the eve of our holiday and having bikini bodies to think about, we just had to have dessert. I'm a sucker for chocolate pots and this one came topped with whipped cream and a crunchy brittle to balance the rich cocoa that reminded me of the melted middles that ooze from fondants. The rosewater and cardamom parfait had sold out but they offered Mum a honey alternative, with crunchy granola and poached apricots that simply screamed summer.

We each chose a glass from their ample (if not a little pricey) wine list, and the bill came to £33 each. Restaurants back home in Sussex definitely are on the more expensive side of the fence which I don't think is completely forgiveable knowing the affordability of eating out in London but this little country charmer did a lot to impress us and I'll definitely be heading here again. Preferably after payday and without a holiday body to think about. Five out of five for sure.

Licky Chops at The Cat & Mutton

Broadway Market's favourite pub has had a redo. Named for the Cat and Mutton bridge over the Regent's Canal at the other end of the street, this East London stalwart closed its doors for a while Ruby's owners restored it to some of its former glory.

On a hot day or warm evening, you'll be lucky to get anywhere near the place. Drinkers stream onto the corner and into the park, pushing out of the warmly furnished inside. The refurb's answered many prayers and the teeny tiny ledge and open kitchen on the ground floor has been replaced by a resplendent bar that extends along an entire wall. Tarnished golds and lots of wood throws this right back into its original glory days, and the ever-loved mismatching tables and chairs gives the place that little bit of extra love. Upstairs has been transformed into Pearl's (named after a former landlady) where cocktails are the order of the day - fruity drinks served in obligatory milk bottles and jam jars. Perhaps no longer original, but a nice touch all the same.

We were there to catch up with a pal who's moved out to Hong Kong. And seeing as The Cat's on the doorstep, it seemed silly not to give it a go. Having booked (yep, booked!)  upstairs and with the kitchen worked by favourites Licky Chops we were in for a treat.

With a small menu of small and sharing plates, it was devilishly difficult to choose. In the end, we all went for two or three dishes (plus sides of fries and aioli or mango slaw) and managed to try practically everything on offer. We started with pork scratchings and anchovies - a small portion for £3.50, there were four crisped skins topped with a single anchovy for the saltiest little bites to kick off with. This was met with mixed reactions, which just meant more for me.

The rest of the plates come out as they're ready which is good for a rolling dining experience but does mean that some people were eating and finished before everyone else (me), there can also be a mix up (fries before other food) and a half hour wait for a dish that we ended up cancelling and taking with us to devour at home. That aside, what we did eat was divine.

I chose the pork rillettes with sourdough toast. The rillettes were thick and dense and spread easily onto the (very thin) slices of salted sourdough. I would have liked some more of the toast, as I am a complete pate/rillettes fiend, and perhaps some cornichons, but the texture and the taste of the meat was good enough without it. From there, Tiago and I shared the crab on sourdough, which came piled with fennel and parmesan and roasted tomatoes. Despite being a huge fish lover, I've never been one to go for crab (past experiences in kitchens may have put me off) but I loved the mix of the flaked white meat and the creamier brown meat each offering something different on the plate. My third dish was equally as good, if not better - grilled courgettes, stracciatella, honey and pine nuts. The creamy cheese with the chargrilled bite of courgettes and the woody pine nuts was offset by the sweetness of the honey, leading to a dish that I could eat for the rest of my life. All it needed was perhaps a little bit of bread to mop up those last lingering pieces.

Other things that we chose from the menu included the burnt broccoli with almonds, pickled mustard seeds and a slightly garlicky yoghurt; the jerk chicken with a mango slaw and a bit of a kick; and the beef short ribs, enough to share with a side of pickled red cabbage and melt in the mouth texture. The pork chop with red peppers and hazelnuts was the dish that didn't arrive so they packaged it up for us and let us take it home free of charge.

The staff here are really friendly - even offering us a shot of mezcal, complete with worm, which we graciously declined. Small plates are tricky to price as they're usually too much and never enough, but I felt the portions are just about right, even if I was a little hungry at the end of the evening. The house red was good enough for a second bottle but I'll definitely be dining off everything of the ever-changing menu the next time I go. Which will be soon because this place gets a four out of five.

Another night at The Clapton Pot

After a great night at The Clapton Pot back in February, it would have been rude not to have snapped up this month's last ticket when the hosts, Anna and Violaine, tweeted about it. Saturday came around and after a very late Friday night, I was hankering for some great company and wholesome food to make me human again.

The Clapton Pot's a supper club like no other - positioning itself as more of a monthly dinner party, the only thing you need to bring with you is a bottle of something and a love of conversation. No airs, no graces and certainly no pricy ticket, for here you're amongst (new) friends. Alternating between Violaine's flat and Anna's house, the pair cook up a three course storm whilst you sit back and help make the magic happen.

Brandishing a trusty bottle of red, I was the last to arrive this time and found the others making the most of the balmy weather and already drinking wine outside in the garden. With local Claptonites Rosie, Lewis and Usha and wannabe Claptonites Niamh and Eoin, we made eight and soon fell into the comfortable conversation that can only come from not actually knowing each other.

Dinner, this time, was outside. With a gorgeously dressed table (above), we dined al fresco with blankets and knits to wrap up when the sun went down. We ate chicory boats of blue cheese, walnut and pear with a honey balsamic dressing; followed by Spanish omelette (with Ridley Road Market egg lady eggs) with a salad of pearl barley, mint, grilled courgette and harissa dressing; then rhubarb, strawberry and basil crumble cooled with yoghurt.

The great thing about living in East London's is that everyone feels so friendly - okay, we're not all striking conversations in the street but Hackney and its surrounding areas feeling like one huge community pulling together. Dinner party treats at The Clapton Pot just make living here that little bit sweeter.

8 Hoxton Square

Think of East London and food and there are a few places that'll probably spring to mind - the chicken shops along the Mile End Road, the curry houses in Brick Lane, the Turkish cafes of Stoke Newington... Burger joints are rife right now and if you fancy a Vietnamese, you just need to head to Kingsland Road. Times were, if you were in the market for something else, you'd have to schlep into Central at the very least but the ever-ongoing regeneration of everything east of the City means there's more on the doorstep than meets the eye.

I'd heard whispers about 8 Hoxton Square. Brought to you by the people behind 10 Greek Street, it's recently opened its doors in one of Shoreditch's most popular places. Tucked into the far side of the square, you'll find its unimposing facade bundled between Hoxton Bar & Grill and Ziegfried von Underbelly, and whilst it doesn't give much away, you'll be very pleased you stepped inside.

We went for dinner, turning up at about 9pm, before inevitably being turned away at the door. Whilst we were fumbling for somewhere else to try, the very friendly front of house nipped out to tell us there'd been a cancellation and would we like to come in? Yes, we definitely would. Seated at a table for four (each with our own numbered chair), we instantly felt in good company; there's a long table to share and covetable spaces up by the bar, if you're feeling particularly chatty.

Whilst scouring the cocktail menu, fresh bread was brought to the table with beautiful olive oil to dip into. I, of course, practically ate the lot before we'd even ordered our first Bramble, Rhubarb & Grapefruit Martini and Alcoholic Lemonade. To start, we shared olives and the fried goats cheese with pomegranate, asparagus and mint which was perfectly salty, creamy, fresh and crunchy all in one bite.

Choosing mains proved hard so we had to order a bottle of prosecco (a steal at £21 a bottle). To help, of course. The chalked up menu changes daily and we could have ordered everything from it. Instead, we opted for the prawns, chorizo and saffron aioli (declared tasty); middle pork, crushed new potatoes, mint and spring greens (melt in the mouth) and bream with beetroot, courgettes, Monk's beard and green olive tapenade (again, a perfect combination of sweet, salty, tender and crisp).

We couldn't manage dessert, despite how tempting it was, so opened a bottle of Cabernet Merlot (although the Valpolicella we tried was very good too) and chatted to the friendly waitress. The staff here genuinely care and are more than happy to chat, explain an ingredient and provide a recommendation for you. Vegetarian? They can handle that too.

A crazily recent discovery but one I'm very glad I made. 8 Hoxton Square is now on my top five places in town that I could eat at every day and tell everyone to do the same. Would I go back? 100%. This East London lovely gets a firm five out of five.

& other places: The Old Drum, Banh Mi Bay & Bill's

The Old Drum
A 16th century pub in the heart of leafy Petersfield, we ended up here after a hungover trip down to Southampton to scope out furniture for D's new place. We hadn't seen the good write-ups but were instead drawn to it like a beacon and a source of a much-needed Bloody Mary. Carefully refurbed and complete with a pub dog, there's a lot to look out for. I went for the homecured gravadlax with the crunchiest, sweetest homemade pickles as an accompaniment, while D went for the pease pottage and ham hock which he couldn't get enough of (even if it isn't quite my idea of tasty). The steaks were perfectly cooked and served with triple-fried beef dripping chips and an inspired, chorizo and pancetta stuffed beef tomato. Dessert was in the form of sticky toffee pudding and deconstructed lemon meringue pie - all scraped up and declared good. Book in advance and they'll serve you a roast to carve at your table, or if you're after something light, they also do a great selection of English tapas.

Banh Mi Bay 
Sometimes after spending a morning moving office from Soho to Gray's Inn Road (sob), you need a good something to keep you going. Just round the corner from our new place is Banh Mi Bay, a very popular little Vietnamese cafe. As the name suggests, they do a roaring trade in Vietnamese banh mi (baguettes) and the queue for take-out was out the door. We each ordered a different one (I went for the chargrilled prawn), added sriracha to taste and wolfed it down in no time. You'll also find the usual rice boxes, summer rolls and bun noodles here if you're after something a little more substantial - and I was hugely relieved to see that they serve pho to go. Perfect for those fragile days at work that we really shouldn't talk about.

Bill's
Bloggers' favourite, Bill's, recently opened its doors in Chichester, half an hour or so away from my parents. Continuing an ongoing dad and daughter day theme (we try and meet for lunch once a month or so), we dropped into Bill's having heard good things about their burgers. Ever one with eyes bigger than her stomach, I started with the honey and mustard Cumberland sausages - sticky and sweet and, frankly, probably enough for me. Dad and I both ordered the burger and stuffed it full of bacon and cheese. No messiness here, this is one firmly held together sandwich and the patty was admirably big. Skinny fries and horseradish mayo added a little something something, but we couldn't resist a plate of hot cross buns with cinnamon butter (Dad) and a lemon meringue cheesecake which I, predictably, failed to finish. With friendly service and a nice little thing going on, I can totally see why it's taking towns by storm. A one-stop shop whatever you fancy; nice.

& other places: The Big Easy, Psychic Burger, Soho House

The Big Easy
Veteran Chelsea crabshack, The Big Easy, opened up its second venue in Covent Garden this week. Channelling All-American steakhouses, this place is built for volume. The alcoholic slushies are to die for (go for the two-in-one Miami Vice if you're feeling flush) and the bottled-to-the-brim bar is friendly and attentive. The staff here are smiley and knowledgeable but we didn't get our drinks til after our mains arrived which was a little disappointing. There's a lot to offer - from steak to ribs, shrimp to lobster - but the night we went, they didn't have everything available - not so good for an opening night. We went for the Lobster Festival (£20 for a whole lobster, chunky chips, salad and a slushie) which was very reasonably priced but smaller (and drier) than its Burger & Lobster counterpart. The mac & cheese had a decent crumb but stick some proper cheese in there, please! Good for a tourist-land stop but I don't think I'll be going back.

Psychic Burger
The newest resident at Dalston's Birthdays, Psychic Burger has got the burger thing going on. Spoilt for choice, we gave the eponymous offering (beef, Psychic sauce, pickles, American cheese on a brioche bun) and the Lamb Franko (toasted almond & spiced lamb patty, smoked pomegranate yoghurt, aji, coriander on a brioche bun) a go. We'd toyed with the horse burger (yes, really) but our morals got the best of us so stacked up with croquettes and stilton chipotle dip, and chilli cheese fries for that all American dream. A little bit messy but totally moreish, we devoured everything, as well as several of the Bagheeras (Vanilla Stoli, ginger, Gomme, basil, lemon and ginger ale). We didn't stay for the afterparty but we'll definitely be back. 

Soho House
Tucked off Greek Street and sitting pretty over Soho, Soho House is a members-only with a difference. No stuffiness here (the Shoreditch contingent has a rooftop swimming pool), everything's quite casual as you wind your way up the stairs and settle in the devilishly comfortable leather sofas. We were here for drinks more than anything else - the Grey Goose Fizz was my total favourite - but couldn't help ordering some of the small plates to share. Spicy chicken wings? Not bad. Padron peppers? Gone in a flash. Chipolatas with honey and mustard? Yes please. And the smoked cod roe with toasts? Keep it coming! After our meeting was over, we wandered upstairs to the top floor where the conservatory gives out onto a little roof terrace where, just for a second, you both forget and remember that you don't actually live here. A girl can dream though, right?