Le Bab, Soho

Before heading to Le Bab, I'd never eaten a kebab in my life. Post-night out foraging often resulted in stealing friends' chips or raiding the fridge and eating all the cheese, but I'd always managed to stay clear of the places serving questionable-looking meat on rotating skewers.

So perhaps I'm not best placed to judge somewhere whose menu is solely compromised of kebabs. But when a new spot in Kingly Court opens up and the guys behind it have trained in some of the top restaurants in London, this girl just has to check it out.

Climb to the top floor and check in for your reservation (yep!) and take a seat at one of the oh-so-Instagram tightly packed marble tables. Or totter on the stools at the pass and watch the magic happen. Then, order a drink (preferably with whisky in) and one of the posh kebabs. 

In the spirit of solidarity, we all went for the same one: the 15 hour free range pork shawarma. It arrives at the table flat, ready to roll yourself and devour or to tuck into with knife and fork. The grilled spring onions were at once smokey and sweet, the roasted broccoli puree smooth, the fennel pickle tangy and with a vinegary bite that cut through the meat, and the crackling a party in the mouth of salty, crisp skin. We also had to order the fondue fries which were essentially cheesy chips and gravy (but oh! that gravy, you could bathe in it) and the endive and pomegranate salad for a semblance of healthiness.

Bright, breezy, friendly and flavoursome, Le Bab definitely ticks all the boxes. Posh kebabs may sound an oxymoron but boy, do they go together. Lashings of ketchup and mayo not necessary. 

(photo via)

Senor Ceviche

'Do you remember the time we all locked ourselves in the bathroom and gave each other hickeys?!' A memory we'd all forgotten resurfaced this week when table talk turned to when we all first lived together. A flat with far too many stairs above an East end corner shop, a sticky lino kitchen floor and a box bedroom with the boiler that flooded. London: a baptism by fire for Sophie.

That was five years ago. Final years of university and Masters for some and first years of proper jobs and growing up for others. Ash and I still live together but Soph is West which means a bit more planning has to take place and when boyfriends and long days get thrown into the mix, it's easier said than done. But now we're all (whisper it) single, we keep finding reasons to order yet another cocktail.

Just like we did on Wednesday at Senor Ceviche. Part of the hugely successful Kingly Court development off Carnaby Street, a shining piazza of some seriously good restaurants, it's a  'Peruvian casa full of fun, food and cocktails'. Bustling and busy at 8pm, we were shown to our (booked!) table within 10 minutes and took up prime position next to the open kitchen.

First on the agenda were the cocktails. We each started with something different (because reasons) despite the photograph. Ash's Mancora Surfclub (Machu Pisco, elderflower, cucumber and apple) was fresh and light, Soph's Pisco Punch (Machu Pisco, lemon juice, rosemary and pineapple juice) was sweet and fragrant whilst my Mamacita! (El Jimador, Cointreau, lime juice, agave and fresh jalapeno) was tart with a perfect bite and a delicious salted, chilli rim.

Then onto the food. The menu here is divided into four sections but essentially it's about small plates and sharing dishes which, as I've mentioned countless times before, is perfect for me because I get serious food envy and it means you can try a thousand more things on the menu. Our friendly waitress recommended three dishes per person and between the three of us that meant we'd cover about half the menu. Dream.

Before we get into the specific dishes, I have to say that we ordered perfectly. Practically everything that arrived at the table was mouthwateringly brilliant and so consistent in quality that Senor Ceviche has shot to the top of my list.

First to arrive were the aubergine picarones - bites of eggplant in sweet potato tempura with a barbecue sauce and coriander yoghurt. Crisp and juicy, these were seriously moreish and we fought over the last one.

Then there was the jalea mixto - tempura baby squid, prawns and cod with a jalapeno mayo. I didn't manage to try any of the prawn but the squid and cod were firm and well cooked in the light batter and tossed with spring onion.

And the pork belly. Oh, the pork belly. Crisp, fatty pieces of melt-in-the-mouth slow cooked pork belly with a sweet soy jam, just the way I like it.

The two ceviches we chose were excellent. The house ceviche comprises of sea bass and octopus in the usual tiger's milk and topped with cubed avocado, tempura squid and sharp red onion, while The Spaniard added king prawn to the mix, tomato tiger's milk, chorizo and plantain. Generous portions of fish, freshly marinated and citrusy with plenty of sauce to mop up. I could eat this for days.

Next came the baby back ribs (which I didn't eat because I'm a heathen who doesn't like ribs) and the flat iron with uchucuta sauce (the Peruvian version of chimichurri). The rarest they'll serve it is medium rare but ours came on the more well done side of the medium scale; despite this, the meat was to die for and the parsley and mint salsa brought a sharp tang to the protein.

And for a bit of variation, the sweet potato fritas were nice enough (for someone who doesn't like sweet potato) and the quinoa saltero fresh and light. A generous mound of beetroot and feta sat atop the grain and, whilst underseasoned, acted as a nice little palate cleanser.

Somewhere in the middle two more rounds of cocktails were ordered, desserts were passed up on and setting the world to rights took place. You'll be pleased to hear we've grown out of our drunken hickey-giving antics but our taste in good venues hasn't waned in the slightest. Senor Ceviche, you were an utter delight and a five out of five.

Polpo

A couple of weeks ago I took my dad to see The Book of Mormon. It was actually my anniversary present to S but we're sadly no longer together so I roped in the other man in my life to join me for some seriously brilliant satire. But, first came food and when Dad suggested Italian for lunch, I knew we had to head to Polpo in Beak Street. Part of Russell Norman's Spuntino, Mishkin's, Ape & Bird family, the Polpo and Polpetto restaurants dotted around town are Italian/Venetian dining at their best and I have been dying to try them since forever.

It was a beautiful day and we managed to grab the last two lunch seats on one of the high benches they have by the window with perfect people-watching opportunities and an excellent view of the bar. I started with an Aperol Spritz (channelling last year's holiday and my upcoming trip to Italy in the next couple of weeks) which was deliciously bitter and sweet, with juicy brined olives adding that extra bit of bite. Dad had a carafe (250ml) of house red which at £11 was a little pricy for lunch but pouring it in to small water tumblers made it last longer in the end, so no love lost there.

Eating Venetian at lunch is simple with the cicchetti approach - small tapas like plates that arrive whenever they're ready and you can dip into and share. We started with the warm, salty anchovy-stuffed fried olives that I fell in love with in Venice and quickly converted Dad to before the octopus and fennel carpaccio arrived. This completely turned Dad off but I wolfed this down with hunger as the meaty cephalopod was lifted by the sweeter, fresher fennel. A distinctive tasting dish, this was a nice twist on an old favourite of mine but I would have liked a little bit of lemon or seasoning on the top.

Next came the coppa, pepperonata and goats cheese bruschetta - lightly toasted but thickly loaded with toppings, this was a simple and effortless dish that instantly transported me to Italy. A classic, the combination of the salty meat, tangy cheese and sweet pepperonata is much-loved for a reason and although basic, definitely effective. 

We also had the bresaola and rocket pizzette - a thin and crispy bread base that shattered into scoopable pieces when attacked with the knife - and the meatballs 'alla Vedova'. Having visited the Ca D'Oro alla Vedova bacaro in Venice when I went a few years ago, I urged Dad to try the famous polpette that gondoliers and tourists alike come flocking for (and which were originally recommended to me by a former flame of the restaurant owner). Three large pork meatballs, breaded and fried, arrived at the table and were quickly devoured. First bites are deceiving as you almost feel you need a sauce but the seasoned meat itself is enough on second, third and fourth bite, and you can see why these are so popular. (Fun fact: when I first had these, I filled up on two of them and my previous ex had to eat both his dishes and mine of the ensuing three course meal. Well done, Becks.)

At this point we declared no more and rolled ourselves out on to the street, having been perfectly accommodated in our short window of an hour, despite a full restaurant. I'm so glad I finally made it to Polpo as it lived up to its huge reputation and I can't wait to go back during the evening for a lazy, lengthy languish. Four and a half out of five.

Rex & Mariano

I think I've found a new favourite. It's instantly rocketed to the top of my list along with Duck & Waffle, 8 Hoxton Square and Pollen Street Social and I'm already thinking of excuses to go back. Hidden between two of the main streets of Soho, Rex & Mariano is the Goodmans' latest fishy opening and it's definitely a good'un.

Previously an unremarkable Vodka Revolution, Rex & Mariano has transformed into a light and airy space with two open kitchens and a bar along one side and a combination of high and low tables on the other. Friendly staff greeted us at the door, showed us to a high table by the window, explained the ordering system (iPads) and left us to pore over the menu.

We were celebrating so I gravitated to a glass of prosecco each, naturally. Simple to order, they appeared pretty sharpish and were crisp, fruity and light and a perfect accompaniment to our starter of burrata. The combination of creamy cheese with simultaneously sweet and smokey tomatoes on a bed of focaccia rendered us temporarily speechless and transported straight into summer.

Choosing mains was hard but we eventually settled on the tuna tartare for me and the Sicilian large stripe prawns for S, along with courgette fries and aioli. My tartare was divine - cubes of fresh fish on a bed of avocado puree, topped with colourful red chilli for a bit of bite and the lightest touch of sesame. Definitely guilt free, I added a bit of S's roasted lemon and Tabasco from the table to bring the flavours to life.

S's dish stole the show, though, and reminded me of the brilliant meal I had for my birthday in Savelletri's Osteria del Porto last year - enormous prawns in a lemon, garlic and parsley oil. Deliciously sweet and meaty, these guys were so moreish I could have eaten them all day. We mopped the oil up with the courgette fries - a generous portion that were brilliantly cooked (no soggy sticks here) - and had to stop ourselves from ordering more.

The guys at Rex & Mariano (so named for Rex Goldsmith, The Chelsea Fishmongerer and Mariano di Vigni) have got this restaurant spot on. Affordable, accessible fresh fish that you don't have to travel miles for, I've already planned another trip. Five out of five for sure.

Aqua Kyoto

Not to be confused with the restaurant on high in The Shard, Aqua Kyoto is a luxe cocktail bar and Japanese restaurant a stone's throw away from Carnaby Street. Across the street from Five Guys, and tucked behind two pillars, you'd be forgiven for passing by this slick operation without ever knowing it's there.

We were here to kill time before seeing Cats (more on that this week!) so whisked out of the rain, up in the elevator and into the moodily lit bar for an aperitif. A decadent hive of activity, the smartly attired bar staff busily whip up their concoctions, serving some in china cats and buddhas and others in heavy cut glass tumblers.

S was hankering for rum so chose a cocktail that had a decidedly seafaring name (absent from the online menu) that, when tasted, conjured up tastes of the Caribbean with the a fruity, tropical base that had just enough citrus to keep it from being sickly sweet. I reversed roles and went for the rye sazerac that was smokey without being too dry, and rubbed with citrus as a finishing touch.

Good drinks, good atmosphere but definitely a place for pay day. Best bit? Go in the summer and make the most of their lovely rooftop garden and perhaps indulge in a spot at the sushi bar for that extra bit of decadence.

Five Guys

I'm a little late to the party, I know, but I finally made it to Five Guys. After a very disappointing experience at Floridita (the three tiniest bowls of 'tapas' for £9), we were still ravenous and had our sights on losing this particular burger virginity.

You know the story - rock up to the bar, order from a relatively short but sweet menu and add as many topping as you want for free. We started with a cheeseburger then loaded up with tomato, fried onions, relish, mustard, mayo, lettuce and pickles and took it away in its brown paper bag to devour greedily.

This is obviously not your high-end high-brow food establishment and it's not about to win a Michelin star but it does fast food well and it doesn't break the bank. Yes, it's a few more pennies than your McDonald's Saver Menu but the brown paper bag looks ever so slightly more chic on the post-night out bus ride home.

The Cocktail Trading Co

It seems London's been having a love affair with anything that's not at street level - from the likes of The Shard, Sky Garden and Tower 42 towering above the city to places like WC, a wine and cheese bar that's popped up in former facilities underground. Whilst this is nothing new, I think a few places are stepping up their game. Take The Cocktail Trading Co, for example. A downstairs speakeasy, yes. Like all the others out there? No.

We stepped inside on a Wednesday night with an hour to kill before a dinner reservation (that's another story). Most of the tables were already busy save for a spare couple that were booked out - but the friendly waiter said we were free to perch until their real owners arrived and happily for us, they never did. This gave us the perfect opportunity to check out the decadent decor - framed caricatures of familiar faces along one wall, a curio of objects along the other and an upright piano by the bar for those who fancy tickling the ivories.

Turning our thoughts to the booze, we were quick to choose. I went for the Urn-aged Corpse Reviver No 2 which came served on a grassy tray complete with grabbing zombie hands and a thirst for more. Mixing Egyptian embalming gin, fortified honey wine, mandarin liqueur, lemon juice and absinthe this was a dream - not too fruity, not too sweet, not too sour but with enough depth, smokiness and warmth to have me hoping for a refill.

S went for the No 42 (also called the Welcome to Kentucky, have a nice day) which blows any previous efforts at presentation straight out of the water. A Chinese takeaway box is filled to the brim with Jim Beam, ginger and plum infusion, yuzu juice and matcha tea then topped with crunchy noodle bites and edible flowers. This is cocktail genius - and well suited to the bar's self-proclaimed productivity.

The waiters were not only attentive but genuinely some of the friendliest I've ever been served by - a real testament to a bar that's smack bang in the middle of the most stressful shopping streets in London.

We would gladly have stayed for more (especially as the drinks are an unbelievable £9 each) but had to move on to catch dinner, but we'll definitely be back. This, by the way, is a perfect little place to impress your Valentine's date this weekend, just be sure to book a table as this is one bar you won't want to miss.

Shakespeare In Love

John Dryden once wrote:

'But Shakespeare's magic could not copied be; Within that circle none durst walk but he.'

And I'm inclined to agree. As most lovers of the English language will attest, Shakespeare is one of the greatest writers ever to have graced the pages of literature. Whether from his tragedies, his comedies, his tragicomedies (they exist) or his sonnets, practically everyone in the English-speaking world and beyond can quote at least a line of Shakespeare.

Mum and I have made it an annual thing to visit The Globe to watch a play. Last year it was A Midsummer Night's Dream, this year The Comedy of Errors. Next year? Well we're waiting for the schedule to be released but determined to get our Shakespeare fix, we booked Shakespeare in Love. Based on the Oscar-winning film (and written by the same guy too), it tells the fanciful story of Shakespeare, his friend and rival Kit Marlow and his love interest Viola de Lesseps as our hero attempts to pen his latest work and chase off the debt collectors. 

It's one of my favourite films so I had high hopes for the stage production (which has been extended into the New Year) and definitely wasn't disappointed. A faithful adaptation of the onscreen oeuvre, the cast were absolutely magical and brought the characters to life spectacularly, simultaneously bringing me to tears (that scene) then having me dissolving into laughter. I never wanted it to end and the interweaving of Shakespeare's sonnets and plays (in particular Romeo and Juliet) had me falling head over heels in love again with the playwright's poetry. 

Now, if only I could write something as beautiful...

Spuntino (again)

Break-ups and move-outs aren't always bad, it seems. Okay, heartache is not something I'd wish on anyone and having to find a new housemate isn't always that easy, but absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that and I'm loving how the change in our living situation is breathing a bit of life into old friendships.

I think we could all agree that Mondays are fairly rubbish. Especially wet ones that show no remorse. But when dinner at Spuntino's on the cards, who cares about umbrellas anyway?

Having been to Spuntino before, I was keen to go back. It's about four doors down from my (soon to be old) office so it seemed like the perfect time to say goodbye. Part of the Polpo/Polpetto/Mishkin's family, it brings a bit of gritty New York to London. Think lots of cracked subway tiles, tarnished gold, a handful of seats around a bar and a red velvet curtain to take you away from the world outside. Small, but expertly formed, with some of the friendliest bar staff I've ever encountered, I have a lot of love for this place.

Sophie and I were early so, whilst waiting for a bench (Spuntino doesn't do tables), we shared some deep fried anchovy-stuffed olives. Totally moreish and deceptively hot, I washed mine down with a half pint of Camden Hells (don't try and go for a pint, they only offer cans as an alternative and £4.50 is a trifle steep...) When Ash arrived, we'd had some time to go over the menu (and devour the popcorn with chilli salt) and ordered a few things to share. I'm a total fiend for small plates - being able to dip in and out of the dishes gets a huge thumbs up for me.

So we opted for the four sliders - beef and bone marrow, pulled pork and pickled cucumber, lamb and pickled apple, and the prawn po' boy. A little tricky to split into three (don't even try), we essentially had a bite or two of each and declared them all very good. There's not a great deal else going on with the burgers - the focus is the meat - so don't expect your bacons, your cheeses, your several different types of lettuce, just embrace that carnivorous dream. We also chose the burrata (I'm a sucker for burrata) and chicory crostini that was perfectly creamy and garlicky and possibly my favourite dish of the entire night. Trying to get our 'seven a day' we went for the blood orange, ricotta and hazelnut salad and the Spuntino slaw (cucumber, cabbage, apple) as sides and polished off the skillet of mac and cheese - which still remains the crumbliest I've ever tasted and isn't a patch on Mishkin's.

The menu changes regularly depending on what's in season but the firm favourites stand the test of time. Other big draws for me are the barmen (friendly and helpful), the crockery and the infectious atmosphere complete with Jimi Hendrix tunes. Prices are fairly reasonable for a Soho spot and, of course, can escalate if you're feeling peckish. It's one of the better 'informal' places to eat in Soho but naturally, no bookings so grab a stool at the bar as and when you can for a four out of five bit of fun.

& other places: Grillshack, Dean Street Townhouse, La Maison Touareg

The weeks recently have been a mismatch of crazy hours at work, that aforementioned tube strike and some spontaneous meals in new (and some not so new) places.

Grillshack
A couple of weeks ago, I went to Grillshack. I'd been heading for Flat Iron but knew the risk of a queue to be far too likely and it was too cold to be jigging around outside. We wanted a meat fix (L's trying the Atkins diet out) so my immediate thoughts of Spuntino or a naughty burger went straight out the window. Described as a modern take on the traditional American diner, Grillshack's sprung up in the heart of Soho and seems to be fairly busy. All white subway tiles with a snazzily little decal explaining how it works, this place looks quite good on paper. But in reality, I was left cold. The waiting staff were a little distracted, the 'serving yourself' process wasn't as slick as it should be and the food was disappointing. With a very small menu (and calling itself Grillshack) you'd expect the steak to be bang on - as it's flattened to within an inch of it's life you can only have it served medium. Ouch. And flavour? What flavour? The radish slaw was watery and the fries weren't great. The only redeeming factors were the green olives and the price - unbelievably cheap - but these definitely aren't enough to deserve a return visit.

Dean Street Townhouse
Now Dean Street Townhouse is a funny one. It's a beautiful building inside and out, always busy and the staff are all good at what they do, but I feel that there's always a slight mismatch with the food. The menu is classically British, but don't go expecting any contemporary cuisine, as you're more likely to find 'mince and potatoes' and 'chicken and mushroom pie' over any foams and flambes. We went for a work lunch with a client and dove straight into the warm homemade bread and salted butter, before I went for the roasted cod with monk's beard and chanterelles. It was divine, with the fish perfectly flaking to melt in the mouth. The salty sauce, monk's beard and chanterelles added some different textures and I even resisted my boss's fat chips to go for the sprouting broccoli. It was an understated but great dish, I just can't help but wish there was more life to the menu as this place is right up my street.

La Maison Touareg
This was a rather spontaneous choice from my boss's boyfriend fancying Moroccan/Lebanese food. There's not a huge number of places who serve up these Arabic favourites so we ended up at La Maison Touareg on a quiet Wednesday night. Inside, the decor is an opulent deep red and dark wood, rugs cover the floors and there's mandala patterns all over the place. We started with mezze to share - houmous, tabbouleh, calamari, falafel, baba ghannouj (to die for), illakenek (grilled spicy sausages), kofte nleshwi (grilled minced lamb with herbs) and lashings of warm pitta. Small but moreish, these were the perfect entrees. The boys went for the lamb tagines and cous cous for mains - all aromatic and served in authentic terracotta ware - and the meat slid right off the bone. I'm not the biggest fan so stuck with more mezze and feasted away; it seems that London's love of small plates suits me right down to the ground. The waiting staff were a bit fumbly and confused (bringing us the wrong wine and dishes at the wrong time) and there wasn't much atmosphere to speak of on a blustery Wednesday night. Apparently belly dancers spice things up at weekends but I don't think I'll be going back.

& other places: Christmas party

We're a fluid bunch, we like to try new places and old favourites. For the work Christmas day (it's never just a meal, a lunch, a dinner - it's an entire day), we kicked off with lunch at Ceviche and then hit the mean streets of Soho to follow.

Soho Hotel

A firm favourite, a stellar stalwart, the Refuel bar at the Soho Hotel's an easy choice. It gets super busy but the drinks are consistently good and service is always really friendly. We managed to grab seats that meant we weren't falling all over each other and settled in for a good few hours of many espresso martinis. We also flirted with raspberry martinis, dirty martinis, and a long drink called Mr Greene but returned to the old coffee classic as they're just too damn delicious.

Circa

From there, we grabbed the sofas at Circa. A sparkly gay bar with the music pumping, we stayed for a couple to fill time before our next bar on the list. I can't seem to get enough of mulled wine at the moment so bizarrely decided to move onto a couple to combat the cocktail overload.

Milk & Honey

Members only apart from with a reservation, Milk & Honey's another prohibition-style speakeasy tucked away in Poland Street. It's almost pitch black inside so there's not too much to say about the decor, other than the glimpses that the flickering candlelight affords. We holed up in a booth and perused the drinks menu before settling on a celebratory bottle of Bollinger. Just because. When it comes to the cocktails, though, apparently they're painstakingly prepared with the juices being hand squeezed that day, the spirits chilled at -40 degrees and each stir or shake counted to precision. We didn't get to experience any of this first hand but the White Seal sounded particularly nice. All very much a throwback to a more decadent era, you won't find any woo woos or sex on the beaches here...

So, nowhere that really knocked it out of the field but who cares, when you're having fun? A very generous boss, a busy year and the greatest team going - here's to Christmas. And no hangovers.

Ceviche

Not your normal Christmas lunch, we decided to hit up Peruvian Pisco place, Ceviche, for the work end of year party. Sitting pretty opposite world famous Ronnie Scott's and above one of the best tattoo parlours in England, Ceviche's a little Latino haven just bursting with energy.

We kicked off with cocktails. All made with pisco (a grape brandy that tastes similar to cachaca), there's a selection of over ten to choose from. I started with the Pisco Fever - ginger-infused pisco, Fever Tree ginger ale, lime and bitters - which was a bit of a twist on the classic Moscow Mule before switching to Sarita's Miracle - cocoa-infused pisco, cranberry-infused pisco, condensed milk and malted milk biscuit - and sticking with that. The boys went for Pisco Sours which proved pretty popular, and the cerveza. We nibbled on cancha (a bit like popcorn), chifles (crisp plantain chips) and olives whilst browsing the menu.

Dishes are small and great to share, with a recommended three to four per person. We started with marinated octopus and chorizo skewers which were out of this world divine, chicken wings in panca chilli, a pear and sheep's cheese salad, flame cooked beef fillet with chips (had to be done) and two of the classic ceviche dishes. 'Ceviche' itself is fresh raw fish, marinated in citrus juices and then spiced (known as tiger's milk). Perhaps not one for those who are a little funny about these kinds of things but we went for the Don Ceviche (fresh seabass ceviche in amarillo chilli tiger's milk, limo chilli, sweet potato and red onions) and the Drunken Scallops (thinly sliced king scallops, pisco, pomegranate and limo chilli). It was all about the flavours - the zingy citrus masks the delicate seabass in the first but leaves you feeling fresh, whilst the scallop dish was a lot more basic and distinctly fishy. We weren't completely sold on the ceviche so moved on to the second round of food.

We ordered practically everything on the menu - the cheese and chard tequenos were particularly good, the boys loved the confit duck with coriander and dark beer rice, and the corn cake was an interesting spongelike bread made savoury with raw tomato and onion.

Whilst we weren't completely convinced by the cuisine, the service was good and quick, for the most part despite it being completely rammed. The decor's very colourful and fresh with washes of blues and the 'being a little bit different' added an extra component. We agreed we probably wouldn't go back but it was a great place to try. Go for something new and stay for the pulpo y chorizo - that won't disappoint you one bit.

Photo by The Guardian

Jackson + Rye

As mentioned countless times before, working in Soho is great. From our perfect office location we get to people watch (whilst working, of course) and also keep an eye on what's popping up here and then. So when I spotted the restaurant across from us being refurbished and adorned with the name Jackson + Rye, I just had to get in touch. But they pre-empted me too and sent out an invitation to the office to come join them on one of their soft opening days before the big launch.

So we headed over on Friday lunch - the perfect end to a busy week. We were greeted by really friendly staff who, as we were shown to our table in the window, explained that we had to choose two courses plus two sides from the menu, which would be free. All we had to pay for was drinks. Great start.

Like something out of the prohibition era, Jackson + Rye is all chrome fittings and tarnished mirrors, huge ceiling fans and a well-stocked bar that stretched round for what seemed like miles. Whilst there's quite a few places cashing in on the 1920s feel, this is a place that's getting it right and doing it well.

The menu, illustrated, folds out into four or so pages of food and drinks with a range of about eight cocktails to start - all reasonably priced between £6 and £8. Whilst tempted, we went for a Vedett each which came over in double time and then as we were browsing the menu, another member of the team came over to give us an idea of the specials (pork belly) and explain some of the dishes (especially grits - which apparently is a little like polenta but made from the ear of wheat). The menu itself is fantastic with a range of bar food such as cheeseburgers, shrimp roll and buttermilk fried chicken sandwich, starters of truffled mac and cheese and beef carpaccio, before next up a number of steaks and even grilled lobster. Trying to choose what to eat was nigh impossible.

In the end, colleague Joe started with the chopped raw tuna with smoked paprika and creme fraiche, whilst I went for the squid with chipotle mayo. Then we moved onto the reuben sandwich (salt beef, sauerkraut and Swiss cheese on a caraway bloomer) which was declared damn good, and the panfried seabass with grilled baby gem and a caper sauce. It was divine. Coupled with regular fries and the skinniest shoestring fries I've ever seen, we devoured every last scrap whilst the staff were the perfect level of attentive.

Prices were surprisingly reasonable and portion sizes were perfect. Our bill would have come to just under £50 for two courses, sides and a drink. Open seven days a week from breakfast until late, this little place might just be what Soho's been missing and I have a funny feeling we'll be making quite a few repeat appearances. Five out of five.

Social Eating House

I just had to mention the Social Eating House as I think it's going to become a favourite. The sister restaurant to the all-star Pollen Street Social, this little place is tucked away in the heart of Soho with just a touch of mystery.

In stark contrast to Pollen Street, this Eating House is dark and decadent, and perfect for late night forays. Stepping through the heavy curtain into the buzzing ground floor, it's all prohibition chic with dark wood fittings, rich leather seats and tarnished metals (and look at the frontage above!). Greeted by very friendly barmen in buttoned-up rolled-sleeves shirts and braces, it's hard to resist the pull back in time. We were there for drinks having devoured MeatLiquor burgers earlier in the evening so pulled up stools in the restaurant and people-watched (the upstairs bar was too busy and we were too impatient to wait!).

I went for the Cereal Killer - Diplomatico Anejo rum, white chocolate, Galliano ristretto, Coco Pops milk and Xocolat bitters - which came served in a milk bottle with a candy stripe straw. A brilliantly naughty twist on everyone's favourite breakfast beverage. I followed this up with a Wi' Jam In - Appleton V/X rum, apricot jam, mint, fresh lemon juice and pimento - which came served over crushed ice in a silver beaker. With a great little kick, this was a sweet and sour concoction with an unusual payoff.

The non-alcoholic options are tasty too - M went for the Probiotic with smashed pineapple, pomegranate, grenadine, lime juice, yoghurt powder and ginger ale. Served tall, fizzy and unmistakably pink it was a nice surprise to have a soft option with a bit of flavour.

We didn't even glance at the food menu but the service was really attentive and the atmosphere was great and we would have lingered for even longer, I imagine, if it wasn't a school night.

In an area packed to the brim with places to eat and drink, it's sometimes tricky to find somewhere that hits the mark but yep, I think Jason Atherton's done it again and has created a perfect little place to call home.

Photo by Lavanstyle

One night in NoHo

There's nothing quite like having a three day week. You know the feeling: the moment you set the out of office message, switch off the laptop and let the door swing shut behind you. Wednesday.

I headed over to the Soho Theatre Bar for a drink. I've walked past the theatre every single morning on the way to and from work but shamefully haven't stepped inside. Home to a whole mix of live performance, the theatre prides itself on being a place for new writers to showcase their work, and comedians to run work-in-progress nights all for the average price of £10 a ticket. (I've just seen they're putting on a run of Bluebeard, a gothic fairytale I studied at university, so might just have to snap up a seat). Their bar serves not only as a pre- and post-performance hang out but is open come one come all. We grabbed a booth and a bottle of wine and caught up as the audience came and went. It's a great little place; casual and non-assuming and next door to Dean Street stalwart Quo Vadis if you're in the mood for something a little more decadent.

From there, we upped the ante a little and headed over to The Sanderson Hotel in NoHo. The site of an infamous wager and a practical joke, the hotel describes itself as a 'surreal Cocteau-like dream world' complete with a red lip sofa, and the never-ending onyx 'Long Bar'. At more than 80 feet long, it's an imposing and glittering addition, offering tempting glances out into the ornamental courtyard. It's all very dramatic - especially if you find the Purple Bar, draped in dark violet silk and decadent black - but that's part of the fun. We ordered a couple of cocktails including the lychee martini, the Sanderson martini, as well as a couple of other fruity concoctions which were predictably tasty.

Hotels aren't my typical vibe, there's something about the transience that means the atmosphere can be a bit lacking. It's a great spot to people watch, although two drinks each is enough time. Go for the outside courtyard, the Purple Bar in all its wackiness and the mirrorception in the ladies on the first floor and fall down the rabbit hole into the dreamworld.

This or That: MeatMission vs BRGR

Oh, I just can't stop myself. A little late to the party (I wasn't that bothered before) but I've caught the burger bug and seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about (and eating) burgers. This week, I've wolfed down burgers two nights in a row and could quite happily go for a run of three today. (But I won't, as it's cheese and wine night at home for J's birthday and I'm baking camemberts. That's enough carbs for one day).

Repeat offenders both, I revisited MeatMission (check out my first and second impressions) on Tuesday and ended up at BRGR last night. Whilst essentially offering the same food, they (and like many other burger joints) are wildly different. As you may remember, I wasn't the biggest fan of BRGR the first time because of the service, but after a failed attempt to get into Byron (empty tables but still a wait) and a two-and-a-half-hour wait time for Honest, we thought we'd give BRGR another go. But MeatMission just has the edge.

Menu wise, how much differentiation can there be? A lot. MeatMission's all trash-talk and nastily-named but it works, and the variety of what's on offer is great. I seem to be going for the Dead Hippie burger - because one patty just isn't enough, obviously - and the fried pickles (which they were devastatingly out of this week) but there's Monkey Fingers, pastrami dogs and currywurst on offer. Not to mention something called the Garbage Plate, the cocktail list and the beers in jugs and jars. BRGR's a little more civilised in name and offering - a lot less to choose from but you can make it your own with the selection of sides (great onion rings by the way).

Atmosphere? BRGR's in Central London so a real mix of friends, family and first dates. MeatMission just feels a little deliberately down and dirty with Jimi Hendrix or Phil Collins blaring out over the din, and everyone digging in to share.

The eating. MeatMission serves everything up on large silver trays, decked out with striped burger paper. Dive straight in, get messy and wipe yourself up with the rolls of kitchen paper dotted around the tables. BRGR's predictably more civilised with cutlery if you need it, the similar striped paper and the ability to put in or take out what you do and don't want between your buns.

And what about the price? BRGR starts at around £6.95 for a burger and increases depending on the quality of the cut. Cheese, bacon, onions etc are extra and do stack up a bit if you're feeling a little naughty. MeatMission's offerings start at around £6.50 all in with sides around the £3 mark, but there's a definite absence of macaroni cheese (another obsession), which should obviously be served unlimited and completely free, of course.

It's tricky. BRGR and MeatMission are doing different things in different ways. A burger's a burger's a burger - but when a burger's so good you go back three times willingly, I think you're onto a winner.

Spuntino Player found in Coal Vaults

Living in London, there's never an excuse not to grab drinks or dinner after work. There's no train to hare back to Waterloo for (unless it's a Friday and I'm heading home for the weekend) and there's definitely no shortage of choice.

photo by Rosie

After discovering that Milk & Honey was strictly members or reservations only, they pointed us in the direction of their sister bar, The Player. The Player's a lounge bar through and through, a throwback to the 70s with swirling wallpaper, orange-toned wood and a huge brown velour sofa. It feels a little bit disco, a little bit dingy - and in the heart of Soho, next to Agent Provacateur and a stone's throw away from ol' Raymond's strippers strip, you'd be hard-pressed to believe it's only been going since 1998.

We found the cocktail menu a little limiting, and in the end I asked for an off-the-list mojito which was quickly rustled up, and admittedly delicious. T went for the Anejo highball - a concoction of rum, curacao, lime juice, ginger beer and angostura. We cast an eye over the beer and boilermaker choices - a 'classic combination of beer and a shot' (who knew?!) and saw Rosie (from The Londoner) being served a teamwork (to share) creation in a disco ball. We were left a little cold so paid the £20-for-two-cocktails-tab and headed on to our dinner destination...

A pal of mine has raved about Spuntino for a couple of years, and despite working about four doors away from it for the past 18 months, I hadn't made the trip. Until last night. Part of the Polpo/Polpetto/Mishkin's crew, Spuntino is a laidback 'diner' squeezed round three sides of a bar and a popcorn machine. As with most places in London these days, there's no reservations so come as you are - and hope you get a seat! We waited for about an hour (the barman who'd promised us ten minutes was very apologetic and gave us a mug of pale each on the house) and sipped at a Negroni (for T), and a Clover Club (for me).

When we grabbed a seat, we were given a cup of hot and fresh popcorn, with a shaker of chilli salt. We dove straight into the ordering and didn't have long to wait before our choice of four Spuntino sliders (for £18) appeared. Doing the noble thing, we each ate half of each - ground beef & pickle, pulled pork & apple, lamb & beetroot, and the prawn po' boy. I honestly couldn't choose a favourite, each were the right side of succulent and terribly moreish. We also shared the macaroni cheese - bubbling away in a skillet, it was very tasty but didn't quite match up to Mishkin's sister serving of salt beef and triple cheese. But what macaroni cheese really can?!

photo from the Coal Vaults website

From there, we gave newly opened Coal Vaults a try for one last drink before home. As the name suggests, it's underground and all exposed brickwork and alcoves (hmm, is London losing its originality?). Small plates are matched to the cocktail list (a nice touch) and we saw sliders aplenty, sitting happily alongside antipasti, and even pulled rabbit. The menu changes frequently but the cup of free chilli popcorn doesn't - and it was much more flavoursome than it's earlier counterpart - to keep you ticking over before your cocktails arrive. I went for the Naxi Classic - Remy VSOP, fresh szechuan pepper, sugar and prosecco with a grapefruit twist - which brought the right amount of fizz, zing and citrus as a new take on something sparkling.  The prices look good and the staff friendly but we were originally told we could only sit at the bar as 'the tables are booked' - fair enough, but they stayed empty until gone 10 so we must have been in the company of ghosts. I definitely want to head back and sample the potted crab. Oh, and the homemade pasta. And the antipasti from i camisa. Hell, I want to go try it all.

Flowers in the window: part II

So, the 'Indian summer' that we started having finally broke today and it hasn't stopped raining here in London since 7am this morning. For someone who's counting down the hours (just over five) until she can switch on her 'out of office' and wind down for two weeks off, I'm not too concerned. I'm heading off to Nice for a week on Wednesday and have spent the last few days getting inordinately excited about our perfectly located apartment (we've booked through airbnb), deciding where to day trip (so far St Tropez, Monaco and Menton are on the cards, amongst others), all the wine and cheese I'm going to be eating, and how I'll finally get to use the French I've barely spoken since graduating.

But, before all this, I received a delivery at work this morning... A beautiful bunch of flowers with only a 'Happy Friday' written in the card. Thank you, completely unexpected mystery flower-sender, you've made a girl's last day in the office that little bit brighter - happy Friday indeed!

Graphic

There's something about the weeks after a Bank Holiday Monday that seem to throw you out of kilter and slip by torturously slowly. Even though it's been a four day week, I feel that I've been working forever and my head can't get round that Tuesday was Tuesday and not something else... So the only way to remedy this, naturally, is to partake in Thursday-is-the-new-Friday drinks.

We headed down to Graphic in Golden Square. Suitably busy, finding a spot to stand in outside was a game of cat-and-mouse but it was far too nice an evening to waste it indoors. Instead, we ducked in and out of the busy industrial-style bar and soaked up the last of the sunshine until darkness drove us inside.

Graphic is host to over 180 different types of gin - apparently the biggest collection in the UK - and they even host a fortnightly Juniper Club, offering tastings for all you gin afficionados out there. Despite being faced with a huge bank of bottles to choose from, I went for mojitos - starting with a traditional one, then raspberry and finally a spiced version that I used to make.

After dark, we headed inside and took residence in one of the comfy sofas as a DJ mixed Prince with Chromeo, Luther Vandross with Daft Punk - I was in my element. It's a really laid back place with a creative vibe matched by the crowd and the decor provided by revolving urban artists. It's one of those 'on trend' industrial style places that seem pretty popular at the moment, but don't let concrete and metal grilles put you off, this place is all smiles with a three out of five. 

Mark's Bar, Hix

Mark Hix has been a bit of a busy chap. After spending 18 years as a Chef Director, he opened up his first restaurant - the Hix Oyster & Chop House in Smithfield - in 2008. Since then he's opened up five other restaurants, both in and out of the city, and been met with a lot of acclaim.

Each of his locations has a different style and theme - I'm still wanting to try his Shoreditch venture, Tramshed, that has a massive Damien Hirst piece suspended above the diners - and they describe Mark's Bar, beneath Hix, as 'one of the coolest bars in London'. Descending into atmospheric darkness, you're greeted with smoky mirrors and a low zinc 'apothecary cocktail bar'. Huge potion-like bottles and decanters are dotted around and the mismatched glassware lends a decadent speakeasy feel to the place. Predictably, there's a no reservation policy so you take what you're given - we were lucky enough to pull up stools in prime position and effectively had our very own cocktail mixologist.

Flipping through the prayer sheet menu, names such as 'Atholl Brose' and 'Gin Punch a la Terrington' jump out at you, with each cocktail being given its own little story and its own imaginative presentation (my first came in a decidedly unfeminine tankard). As it was a Friday night, we were a little more indulgent and sampled quite a few of the drinks on offer but returned time and time again to the Red Snapper - essentially a Bloody Mary made with gin that hit the sweet spot.

The atmosphere was laid back, with some great music (Jimi Hendrix's All Along The Watchtower, for example) and the bar staff friendly, quick and knowledgeable. Our guy let us try a shot of milk vodka each and answered our curious questions as he smoked peppercorns for some elaborate creation. Mark's Bar has been described as 'the place you've been waiting for' and it's a great little spot in the heart of Soho, away from the hustle and bustle and without the clinical feel that some cocktail places have.

A reservation? It was a little tricky to find a cocktail to fall in love with but I think I'm just clutching at cocktail straws...