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.

The Jam Tree, Clapham

I've lived in London seven and a half years and last Wednesday was my second foray to Clapham - the first was to the Chicago Rib Shack launch with the Try This For team just last year. I don't know a great deal about SW4 other than there's a club called Inferno's and recently there's been a whole host of new openings recently that really are worth a look in. Last week, The Jam Tree invited me down to try and show me that it's worth crossing the river once in a while.

I had some time to kill after a meeting and walked from Marylebone to Clapham - a cool 4.4 miles across town - meaning I was ready for a cocktail or two. As well as the classics (and a very tempting Bloody Mary menu that included homemade beef stock as an ingredient in one), The Jam Tree's signatures are their concoctions made with jam. They recommended I try the Confiture (Cariel Vanilla vodka shaken with raspberry jam, Chambord and pineapple juice) and boy, was it good. Ideally sweet but without being overly saccharine, it was a great introduction to their list. Next up was the Damson In A Dress (Damson vodka, Martini Bianco, lime jam and prosecco) which was the perfect antidote with that vermouth bite cutting through the fruitiness.

We were there to try the new menu from Executive Chef Gary Smith who aims to 'create globally inspired plates bursting with flavour. The menu comprises an assortment of small and big plates as well as hearty sharing dishes, perfect for enjoying with groups of friends'. We started with the sotong manis (sticky battered squid) - large pieces of squid in a sweet honey and soy dip with a little added heat from chilli. A nice touch to a perennial favourite. I spied 'lardo' and had to have the lardo and braised Scotch Bonnets on toast - bitesize delights with a real kick. The chilli here outshone the lardo which was a shame but a nice try nonetheless. Finally, we shared the buttermilk fried rabbit. I've never eaten rabbit so had no idea what to expect but was surprised it was a whiter meat than I'd imagined. Less gamey too. Good when dipped in the hot sauce but I doubt I'd order again.

Moving on to mains, we originally planned to share the salt baked sea bass with caponata and polenta but another table nabbed the last one so A chose the hanger steak with chips and salsa verdi. Nicely cooked, it was melt in the mouth and I enjoyed my bites but A found the rosemaryed meat a bit too much for him. I went for two more starters - the salmon tartare which was nice and came with the seasoning on the side to fold in yourself. I'm not a massive fan of pumpernickel bread but that's an aside and I used my toasts from the very buttery potted shrimp to dip into the two.





Service was friendly and attentive and the recommendations were good. The restaurant around us was filled with lots of dates and a couple of groups at the bar. Windows open onto the street and there's a large garden area out the back that is no doubt rammed on Fridays and Saturdays when things really kick off at The Jam Tree. Would I venture south of the river again? Yes - to check out those ridiculously brilliant sounding Bloody Marys.

Cornish Grill at The Three Crowns, Stoke Newington

I moved to the Clapton/Stoke Newington area from Hackney/London Fields last September and it didn't take me long to find a new favourite local. Whilst it's not as awesome as the best pub in the world (The Duke of Cumberland in Sussex), The Three Crowns is a great place for whiling away a few too many hours and pints at the weekend. Think mismatched tables and chairs, shabby sofas, the occasional dog and a brilliant residency in the Cornish Grill. Rustling daily deliveries of fresh seafood and meat into simple yet moreish British dishes, this pop-up (which started off as suppliers to places like The Ledbury, The Clove Club and Pitt Cue) keeps me coming back for more.

S and I found ourselves ensconced in one of the many comfy leather sofas the other day and were aching for food so, naturally, we gave in and gorged. We shared pork crackling with thyme and apple sauce (big wedges of crispy crispy pig skin), potato crackling with smoked chilli mayo (more like potato skins but perfect for scooping the creamy condiment and grilled coleslaw (creamy with a bit of bite and smoke).

We then dove into the hog's pudding scotch egg with Cornish ale brown sauce; awarded the best in the UK, this had some serious living up to do - happily, it was dense and meaty (almost haggisy?) with the perfect yolk and a rich sauce to mop up every last bite. The house cured salmon with toasted rye bread and pickles was divine - thick rather than anaemic slabs of fish were lightly smoked with a flavour that was both smooth and deep. Finally we had goats cheese fritters - light bites of fried cheese matched with a honey dressing and candy striped beetroot - and I declared myself done.

The Cornish Grill serves larger plates for those on a mission, daily specials and enormous Sunday roasts for when that Bloody Mary just won't do. With it being a 10 minute walk from my house, I'm practically a resident - I'll even fight you for that corner sofa, just you watch.

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.

Tozi

My knowledge of Victoria extends to the station, the walk towards Sloane Square and little else. It's not a part of town I usually frequent but when Italian restaurant, Tozi, invited me down I knew it was time for the journey.

Tucked down a side street, Tozi is a sprawling yet bustling restaurant and bar serving up cicchetti - Venetian small plates that you could compare to tapas. Food service is split between two open kitchens; one focuses on the grilled, baked and wood oven offerings on the menu whilst the other rustles up the counter and salad plates. We went on a Thursday night and the atmosphere was buzzing with couples on dates, groups of girls catching up and post-work diners yet service was impeccable, with friendly waiters and waitresses unobtrusively bringing each dish to the table as soon as it was ready.

We were tempted by the cocktails - a combination of classics and house favourites - but reached straight for the Italian-only wine list. Ever since a trip to the region last year, I eagerly seek out Puglian wines on menus and Tozi didn't disappoint with a lovely bottle of Nero di Troia. 

We then moved onto the food, and after a few recommendations from our host, chose eight plates to share. There are larger dishes on the menu (lobster linguine, braised osso bucco, ribs of beef) but after filling up on the focaccia (slightly dry) and moreish olive oil and balsamic syrup, we stuck to our guns and stayed sensible.

First up, the wild boar salsiccia. Melt in the mouth smooth with fennel and star anise running through, I could happily eat this by the fistful. Thankfully for my dining companion, I was more restrained but he did give me the last slice. Accompanying this was the burrata (another thing I always order if it's on the menu) which came deliciously creamy and with just enough give. Served with heritage tomatoes, a grind of salt and pepper brought the flavours to life.

Next up, piadina with parma ham, stracchino and rocket and tuna tartare with lots of fresh lime. Arriving at the same time, these dishes couldn't have been more different from each other but they worked so well - the classic Italian flavours of meat and cheese were complemented by the zingy freshness of the fish. S, who's never been tempted by tuna tartare before, is now a total convert and I scraped the bowl for the last morsels.

Then came the pasta. Difficult to photograph but hugely easy to eat and almost demand more of. The buffalo ricotta ravioli with black truffle was criminally smooth, rich and buttery - simple enough ingredients but cooked so well we were lost in mutual appreciation for quite some time. The wild mushroom cannelloni was pleasingly earthy with the flavours of the fungi coming through the creamy, cheesy sauce. The pasta, homemade of course, was cooked brilliantly and finished off al forno naturally.

Our last two dishes were the gratinated scallop, Venetian style, and the ox cheeks. The scallop was cooked just right and topped with a crisp crust and a swirl of salsa verde. S wasn't so keen on the green but I liked the added flavour that offset the meat of the fish and the toasted crumb. The braised ox cheeks with girolles and red wine sauce was his clear winner - the meat was deliciously soft and melted right off the tongue. The red wine sauce was more of a jus, balancing the creaminess of the mash potatoes with just enough richness to bring the whole dish together in what was probably S's plate of the night.

At this point we realised we'd definitely made the right decision to not order a further mountain of food. There was just enough room for dessert though. S had the chocolate and amaretto bonet - a typical dessert from Piedmont that's made in a similar way to a creme caramel. Accompanied by a boozy sauce, cream and crumbled amaretti, this was almost the last hoorah. I could just about manage the affogato - simple but effective and just enough to keep me awake for the taxi schlep home east.

I'll admit that my expectations of Tozi were mixed before I visited as the website seriously underplays how good this place is. From the modern interior, friendly staff and excellent food, Tozi is a real find and I'll definitely be making the journey all the way over to Victoria just for this place again and again and again. Five out of five.

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.

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.

Italy: where we ate

Terrazza Goffredo

The night we arrived in Conversano, our hotel had booked us into the gorgeous little rooftop restaurant for an introduction into Italian (and Apulian) cuisine. Having spent most of the afternoon travelling and learning to drive on the wrong (right) side of the road, we were in need of some Italian hospitality and boy, were we not disappointed. Over a romantic, candlelit table for two (mum and I), plate upon plate of ridiculously amazing food was set in front of us and we ended up so full I could barely shuffle back to the room afterwards.

They kicked off the fare with two platters of typical Puglian appetisers. On one, a gorgeous swordfish ceviche with tangy fresh lime juice and tart red peppercorns; a pearl barley and cucumber salad; and a fresh seafood salad of prawns and octopus served in a clamshell and squeezed with lemon. The second, deep fried courgette flowers; a cheese souffle; and aubergine stuffed with minced pork and vinegary slices of red onion, all drizzled with local balsamic vinegar. Following this, in typical Italian form, was a primi of pasta - handmade orrecchiette pasta in a fresh tomato sauce made with the tastiest olive oil - small bites stuffed with softly roasted warming cherry tomatoes. Then for the secondi, we had grilled sea bream instead of the veal and after that, vanilla pannacotta with tangy blackberries and fruit coulis.

We coupled this with a dry Apulian red and lashings of self-congratulation. And a reduced appetite for the rest of the holiday.

Taverna dei Duellanti

We discovered this little place whilst making like the locals and 'promenading' late at night. It was belting out some great funk music and people were pulling up as many chairs to tables as they could, with kids scattering around as their parents sat back and ordered more wine, more food, more everything. There was a very limited pizza menu and I went for the pizza with crudo, stracciatella and lemon but I could have chosen everything on it, the toppings and flavour combinations were to die for. The light and creamy coolness of the cheese mixed with the salty meat and the citrus tang teamed up to make the best pizza I've ever tasted. Finished off with a shot of limoncello, this was one achingly understated but perfect little late night meal.

Osteria del Porto

One thing that we'd been craving whilst in Italy was fish. The Adriatic Sea was constantly within our eyeline yet we were surprised that, despite being only a few kilometres from the coast, restaurants serving fish in Conversano were a little thin on the ground. When we moved hotels on my birthday and were even closer to the coast, we knew we had to do something about it and after a quick bit of Trip Advisor searching, I chose the Osteria del Porto in Savelletri for my birthday meal. We managed to book a table and a taxi to take us down and were greeted by a little nautical-themed, harbourside restaurant teeming with local customers and really friendly staff. We ordered a bottle of Verdeca (a sparkling Apulian white that we'd learnt about during a casual bit of wine tasting) and decided to forgo the four course tradition with some cleverly chosen dishes instead.

Mum went for the classic Caprese - fresh twists of mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and olive oil with grilled bread to mop it all up with - whilst I started with the plate of bresaola and grana padano cheese. We then had to have the gamberetti al brace (grilled king prawns) that came in a steaming buttery bowl of garlic, chilli and fresh herbs. Searingly hot to tear into it, they were the sweetest prawns I've tasted in a very long time and we eagerly mopped up every last morsel, sad to see the end of them. So sad, that I ordered another portion just because you don't turn 25 in Italy with prawns every day, right? After that, we each ordered tartufos (pistachio for mum, chocolate/amaretto for me) and a shot of Disaronno each, as the waiters buzzed around us with whole fish baked in salt and live lobsters. Much to my embarrassment, Mum told them it was my birthday so they very sweetly brought out an amaretti ice cream with 'happy birthday' looped around the edge. Thankfully there was no singing but we were very sad to leave what was one of the best meals of the holiday behind. 

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.