Arbutus, Frith Street and SNOG.

We’d been planning on paying Arbutus a visit for some time, having been to Will Smith and Anthony Demetre’s other joint ventures, Les Deux Salons and Wild Honey so post exam celebrations provided us with the perfect opportunity to sample what was on offer at the Michelin starred establishment. I stupidly forgot to book, but we were lucky enough to get a small table opposite the bar which was perfect for watching the barman making cocktails and watching people come and go.

I started with a haddock and squid burger – essentially a lightly fried patty of oily, rich haddock and tender squid which was intensely infused with lemongrass and coriander. Dressed with razor clam chunks and a light pea and mint sauce, it was the perfect way to start the meal. Arbutus change their menu every day but variations of the seafood burger are a staple on the menu and it’s pretty obvious why.

Roast piece of beef, caramelised onion purée, roast beetroot and THE GRATIN

Our mains were similarly yummy. I went for the fillet of roast beef which was perfectly cooked and was still slightly drippy when cut open and was served with baby root vegetables. I have to credit Arbutus with making me like beetroot again after years of not ever touching the stuff. It also came with a little cast iron pan of the most sublime potato gratin I have ever eaten. Yi-Bin had the cod, which was apparently superb.

Icelandic cod, roast sweet onions, Swiss chard, tomato relish

We skipped dessert because I’d been craving Snog since the start of exams. I was slightly disappointed to find that they no longer offered pomegranate seeds as a topping and that their new passion fruit flavour was a bit rubbish – too sour and totally lacking in flavour. Instead we had adzuki bean paste and blackberries on green tea frozen yoghurt which was a slightly odd but yummy combination. We also sampled their new passion fruit flavour but it was really sour and ugh. Sticking to the green tea for now. 

           

Garlic & Shots: TAKE II

Ooh-er.

They have finally redeemed themselves! I decided to be generous (haha) and give them another chance because I’m nice and everything was pretty much perfect.

We shared the garlic bread and mushrooms which were weirdly cold and came with an odd yellow garlic mayo type dip, but it was pretty nice all the same. We also tried the honey and garlic ribs which were amazing. It was smothered in a syrupy, sticky garlic infused coating which was just perfect. It was served with perfectly crisp potato skins and a baked head of garlic (I managed half before actually seeing cartoon green garlic fumes everywhere) and coleslaw on a huge platter. Sharn had the garlic pasta which was apparently very yummy. 

Portions were HUGE. I’m pretty sure the ribs were meant to be for two, but I demolished pretty much all of it anyway because my food baby needed feeding up post exams. Service was fab, our waiter was amazing despite being the only one working on a busy night and I’ll be returning for definite – no sign of ‘Burger King’ lady. Hurrah! :)

DON'T TOUCH STATION FOOD. EVER.

Ok, so I rarely go on long train journeys. This is because I am evil and like to ruin the environment by zooming around in an air borne vehicle, watching the plants and small creatures of the world slowly waste away, as CO2 and all sorts of nasty chemicals billow out from the exhaust pipes of the plane (wait, do planes even have exhaust pipes?!)

I jest. I just dislike the idea of being trapped in a metal box, bumping along the ground until I get to wherever it is because being in a metal box hurtling through the air is SO MUCH MORE EXCITING. I love that weird ‘holiday’ feeling you get, even when you’re really not going on holiday anywhere and you’re about to have a mini-heart attack because you can’t remember whether you’ve locked the door/remembered to pack your socks.  I also like the whole ritualistic safety procedure thing the flight attendants do. I always stare attentively because I am overly afraid of the plane crashing and feel hugely sorry for them because only nice people and those terrified of plane tragedies seem to be listening.

Another thing which makes me prefer air travel is the fact that the food is just less crappy. And even when it is a crappy, sloppy mess you can totally pretend that it’s free and when it’s served to you by a reasonably attractive and friendly flight attendant with a huge smile it somehow makes it a less miserable meal. Cool.

With trains you have the weird buffet cart/canteen/café/death pit thing which I have never ventured into but by the sounds of it, is probably a carriage at the end of the train with plastic tables and chairs, smelling of stale coffee grinds and time-hardened cardboard sandwiches circa 1996.  This leaves the resourceful traveller with very few other options – one of them being buying food at the actual station itself.

This would be fine if the food here wasn’t also so abysmal and expensive that it makes you want to put your head in your hands, weep and wonder what you’ve done in your past life to deserve this mistreatment. There are the same old chains everywhere which I wouldn’t even care about if the stuff they served was semi-edible. I found myself in the unfortunate position of being desperately hungry and stuck in Euston Station (something I seriously do not recommend).

Having no choice but to go to some horrendously lame sandwich chain, I bought myself a regular latte which was the size of those weird tubes you put urine samples in and a mini-baguette the colour of NEON with some unidentifiable mulch in it. I think it was supposed to be a crazy breakfast bonanza but the more I looked at it, the more I wanted to cry. It was the first time I’d ever eaten something I couldn’t identify – I could see egg, cheese (cheese, who on earth has cheese for breakfast, are you CRAZY!?) and the rest was UFM (unidentifiable food-ish matter). Even the identifiable bits were bad. The egg tasted like it had been whipped up from powder and water, World War II style and the cheese was plastic and limp, like it had been in a terrible and violent bar brawl and lost.

I think my latte was ok but I was so worked up and craving the sweet rush of caffeine I think I was beyond caring. Next time I am doing what the smart guy sitting opposite me was doing – loading up with a bag of goodies from M & S because I swear, if I have to eat food from that place or a similar hell hole again I will go crazy and start chewing on other passengers like one of those zombies in 28 days later.

I’ve just realised I’ve reviewed a sandwich joint in a train station. Being on a long train journey has made me sink to an all time low. I’ll be doing the buffet cart next. 

Zurich and Tibits! ♥

For those who I haven't already bored to death with details from my saunter in Zurich last December, CLICK HERE to read my piece on the Tibits Website! 

Also, I finally got round to taking a trip to Tibits in Heddon Street, Mayfair last month and it was just perfect. I seriously recommend the classics - their baked vanilla cheesecake and signature green bean salad are just to die for and their new additions are pretty awesome too. 

My current favourites are the pepper tofu and cucumber salad and the kiwi, mint and ginger lemonade - also it's great place for al fresco dining now the weather's getting better ♥

p.s. Would like to thank Anina for making a nice lunch even better! :)

Group photo at the Tibits Anniversary Party!

Dinner for one.

Probably running away from yet another bad dinner date. 

Ok, so I’ve had lunch by myself a few times – a quick dash to Pret or grabbing a cardboard sandwich mess from the uni café but never a full blown, sit down dinner. I suppose to me, having dinner out is more than just eating. To me, dinner out means catching up with friends, bonding and just spending quality time with people I genuinely care about. In most cases, food usually comes second to the people I'm eating with, to the point where sometimes I’m either totally unbothered by crap food or I’ll just quickly mention to that it’s bad/good/really good and return to the main conversation.

Anyway, against this backdrop of thinking, I found myself in the awkward position of being all dressed up and having nowhere to go.  I figured it was the perfect opportunity to do something I had wanted to for quite a while…dinner date myself.

According to my friend Chris, you are your best date. This makes perfect sense – you know what you like/don’t like, you’re unlikely to start up banal conversation and in all honesty, you probably know that you’re relatively fun to hang out with in the first place. This made me think back to all the times when I’d been stuck with someone at a restaurant, alternating between planning a Great Escape-esque exit plan and desperately wishing that the floor would develop into a huge black hole and suck me into vast and infinite nothingness. I suppose I could at least guarantee that wasn’t going to be happening this evening.  

So, with my companion sorted, it was time to figure out where the hell I was going. I’d been wandering around peering into various places when I spotted a man sitting at the front by himself with a huge cheeseboard. This then made me realise that I wanted to be like the man with the huge cheeseboard and have no one to interrupt me while I got my kicks from munching through mounds of unpasteurised dairy and in the process, potentially contracting Listeria like the hardcore risk taking rebel I am.

Anyway, after darting into potential cheese heaven, I finally got to say what I’d been wanting to all along – asking for a table for one. I’ve been told that when you’re a girl asking for a table for one it usually garners one of two reactions. This is either an inquisitive, slightly confused look as the maitre d’ wonders whether they’ve misheard or a look of sympathy as they assume there’s a bad reason as to why you’re engaging in lonesome dining. I got neither.

In the Russian roulette world of table service, I had hit a definite jackpot. The service was in short, totally awesome and in fact, better than if I had been with someone- I was able to summon a waiter with just a quick glance. I think dining alone is also a pretty good way of reviewing restaurants. Your experience as a solitary diner really says a lot about the level of service in a restaurant. I’ve heard stories from friends of being pushed into the darkest, deepest depths of the restaurant and getting crappy service due to being alone. Not here though - I was given a table for two, right by the huge stained glass window.

I also found myself actually caring about what I was eating. When you’re engaging in heated conversation with someone, you don’t really get an opportunity to sit back and appreciate the presentation and execution of what you’re presented with. Another plus is that you can tone down table manners and just focus purely enjoying the food, as opposed to freaking out over whether you’re conducting yourself improperly. It also means going totally WILD and ordering two starters/mains/desserts, dabbling in everything, hogging the whole table and just having a relaxed dinner. It’s an oddly liberating experience and the perfect opportunity to indulge in some one on one time, be totally selfish and focus solely on you having a fab evening. There are no worries about whether other people are having a good time, no obligation to entertain and no awkward ‘what next?’ especially at the end of dinner dates.

So those are the positives. I won’t lie; there are a few not-so-great things about solo dining. Maybe I’m just overly into the social element of dining but I really missed the companionship element. I’m totally fine with spending time by myself but I do think it is possible to OD on Renie-time.

Also I seriously lucked out with my first ever solo dining experience. I’ve heard from (mostly female) friends that it can bring with a whole host of problems. Unwanted male attention from idiots who think they’re doing you a favour, too much table service because they feel sorry for you, feeling like the desperately lonely batty cat lady while staring at loved up couples, being over-charged and too afraid to deal with it, dealing with odd looks from waiting staff and other diners or just being treated like crap because you’re a woman dining alone and they assume you’re a loser who was unable to get a date/you don’t have friends/you won’t complain about bad service.

There’s also another gender divide when it comes to what people think about solo dining. Most of my male friends are totally unbothered about going it alone and finding it relaxing/therapeutic and it’s a regular, completely normal occurrence for them. Less so with the girls.

Maybe it’s because girls are expected to be taken out to dinner by interesting male companions – the dinner date concept is central to dating these days and it’s impossible to get through the early stages of a relationship without the obligatory dressing up and going out for dinner at some trendy wherever, complete with playing footsie under the table, gooey staring and the awkward over the table hand holding.  Or maybe it’s because girls are meant to come in a gaggle – a bunch of girls getting together for dinner, drinking cocktails and discussing the hottest new club/men/fashion/gossip (we need to thank Sex and the City for this). Maybe it’s a combination of both or maybe it’s neither.

Hey, maybe we should just not care and be totally comfortable with who we are and extend this to spoiling ourselves, not giving a toss about what waiters/other diners think and just celebrating our own awesomeness over a full blown, multi-course orgy of gourmet decadence? Yes. 


Mini-update: For those asking, I dined at Bibendum. Seriously recommend! :) 

Starbucks, I love you but…

Make mine a soya skinny venti hazelnut coffee frapp with cream and an extra shot, please

Like many others, I am in the unfortunate position of being stuck in a bizarre love/hate relationship with Starbucks so I figured it was time to take a deep breath, air our differences and embark on some much needed relationship counselling to sort out our problems.

Ok, so let’s start with the good:

You have brought me so much joy. We hang out together loads, you’re reliable, consistent and you play weird but calming ethnic-y-meets-jazz-meets-blues type music while I’m reading stuff for tutorials. You’re always there with a comforting latte when I’m having a bad day or a double espresso when I am on the verge of an examstressrevisionoverload mental breakdown. You have been tolerant of my incredible neediness and whinging. I have been tolerant of the fact that you are seriously expensive to be in a relationship with and a bit on/off with the quality of your coffee.

You have given me that amazing piece of plastic that is my Starbucks card which entitles me to more of your love and you spoil me ENDLESSLY with free shots, syrup, soya, cream and wifi. In short, you treat me like a total princess and I am pretty sure that if you were a real person, things would be working out GREAT between us (most of the time anyway).

However I am now going to have to focus on the bad because there are some things you do which really get on my (coffee) beans and we need to talk before our relationship goes awry, mister.

1. Why do you have to put those massive jars of waffles and cookies in front of the counter!? You know I have serious hand-eye co-ordination problems and it’s already quite hard for me to swipe my card (which you constantly encourage me to use by giving me rewards) without dislocating my shoulder because of the funny angle at which you place your machines.

Adding extra obstacles in the form of huge-ass glass jars is NOT helping the situation. Also, I end up feeling like an incompetent fool when the kindly barista behind the counter has no choice but to swipe for me. You don’t make this easy for them either –whenever they have to reach around the assault course that is the counter to help me swipe, it reminds me of an octopus tentacle cautiously wending its way around plants on the seabed, afraid of disturbing the little creatures living in the sea foliage. WHY?!

2. Your food is atrocious. Other than your delectable blueberry cheesecake which is like heaven on earth times a gazillion squared, your food is laughably bad. Well, I’d be laughing if I didn’t spend virtually ALL MY FREE TIME round at your place eating your lame food because I’m too lazy to get it elsewhere. I swear your menu has hardly changed since we first started out other than the occasional, uninspired seasonal add on. Don’t get me wrong, I love cheese and marmite and I love the fact that you have all the desperately boring/standard stuff but seriously, get creative with food and innovate otherwise I’m going to have a filthy, passionate affair with Pret and THEN you’ll be sorry.

3. STOP TRYING SO HARD. Seriously, you’re really cool and I really dig the fact that you’re taking advantage of your global dominance and making an effort to be helpful and stuff but come on now. Stop trying to shove the ‘Fairtrade/Charity/Aren’t I good?’ thing in my face. Yes, it’s nice and great that you have a CSR programme and that you do a lot for charity. It’s also fantastic that you’re all Fairtrade now, but making out you’re saving the world, bean by bean? Shut your face and just give me my latte.

4. You’re so samey. I know you’re a chain and you want to be comfortingly samey same-same everywhere you are but I think it would be cool if you let your customers/baristas have a small say when it comes to interior décor. 

Here’s a suggestion: Instead of using the same blandgraphicminimalistshape crap a bunch of randoms from a creative design team have crafted to hypnotise people into buying more of your crazy coffee beans, how about using some local artwork? I’m not suggesting that you fill your coffee houses with awkward, badly proportioned oil paintings of nekkid ladies and Tabby the cat done by the local WI but there are a LOT of super cool, up and coming artists around in major cities and it wouldn’t hurt to maybe showcase some of their work, would it? Plus if you’re so into the whole ‘using my superpowers for good’ thing (which by the way, I find totally hot) surely you could give it a try? Just sayin’

5. Toffee Nut Latte is for life, not just for Christmas. Only you, Starbs, could be enough of a tease to create one of the most tear-inducingly yummy drinks in the whole entire world and then totally screw me over by making it only available during the seasonal period. I’d be totally cool with that normally but when you let the people across the pond have TNL ALL YEAR ROUND, it’s just not fair. I love slowly licking those little toffee sprinkles off the foamy cream top. Sometimes, it’s the highlight of my day, you hear me?!

On the other hand, you probably can’t deal with the fact that I:

1.       Make picky, headache inducing orders which don’t make sense (soy with cream, skinny with cream…hey I just like cream, ok?!)

2.       Have to order things extra hot and demand that things are stirred for me (I’m a delicate flower and stirring is complicated and dangerous)

3.       Get all angst ridden when you run out of soy (lactose intolerance, blame my ancestry)

4.       Am clumsy and often scald myself/spill stuff everywhere/generally break your shops because I have problems with coffee-in-hand walking/life in general (I’m so sorry, will you still love me? Please?)

I know I’m moany and complain a lot, and you’re not perfect either but we’ve had a pretty good run, stayed totally loyal to one another (that time at Pret was a one off and I swear it was totally physical and meant nothing to me).

I’m pretty sure there are at least a few more years left in our relationship. That’s if you consider my suggestions and start getting your act together. Plus I love you enough to give you a cutesy ole nickname and that’s a sign of HEFTY COMMITMENT, Starbs.