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.

Nutella + Banana Cake & Dark Chocolate + Orange Cookies ♥

My all time favourite activity is baking, purely because there is nothing more therapeutic and satisfying than creating your own delicious treats from scratch – something you could never get with store bought goods. There’s nothing better than whipping up a delicious batch of chocolate and orange cookies or super simple cakes and sharing the warm fuzziness of baked goods with friends and family. Here are some incredibly easy recipes to get you in the mood for baking!

Nutella Banana Cake:

2 ripe bananas (perfect opportunity to use up any overripe stuff)
170g caster sugar
170g self raising flour
170g butter
3 large eggs
A few drops of vanilla essence
2 large tablespoons of Nutella
5 Toblerone triangles broken into small chunks

1. Preheat oven to 160 degrees Celsius/gas mark 3

2. Mash bananas and mix with other ingredients until well combined

3. Pour into a lined loaf tin

4. Bake for an hour

5. Tip out when cool and enjoy!

Dark chocolate and Orange Cookies:

125g dark chocolate (use a good quality Fairtrade chocolate)
125g white chocolate (use a good quality Fairtrade chocolate)
150g plain flour
30g cocoa powder
1 tsp bi-carb
125g butter, cut into cubes and softened
75g light brown sugar
50g caster sugar
1 egg
Zest of 1 orange
Optional: A few drops of orange flavouring

1.   Pre-heat the oven to 170°C/gas mark 3 and line a large baking sheet. Melt the dark chocolate in a microwave in 30 second blasts or over a pan of barely simmering water until melted. Remove from the heat and leave to cool

2. Place the flour, cocoa, bicarbonate of soda, orange flavouring and salt into a bowl and set aside. Cream the butter and sugars together in a bowl until light and fluffy. Add the cooled melted chocolate and beat to combine.

3. Beat in the orange zest and egg, followed by the flour mixture. Once combined stir in the chocolate chunks

4. Roll the dough into small or large balls, depending on what size you want your cookies, and place on the baking tray. Bake for 15-18 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the middle of a cookie comes out clean

5. Once baked, remove from the oven and leave the cookies to cool on the tray for 5-10 minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool

Happy Baking!!! 

LAB Bar, Old Compton Street

Opened in 1999, LAB (London Academy of Bartenders) has been the place to go for well priced and good quality cocktails. With an extensive cocktail list, there’s an abundance of choice.

We kicked off with a Jack Bauer Sour and the Bon Bon – unfortunately, the Jack Bauer was pretty disappointing – I was expecting a potent mix of Beefeater 24 Gin, Suze and Chartreuse Herbal Liqueurs, egg white and green tea syrup but instead, was presented with something that tasted weak and oddly soapy. Luckily, the Bon Bon saved the day – deliciously sweet and creamy, the Limoncello and tangy lemon juice cut across the warmth of the vanilla vodka, butterscotch schnapps and vanilla sugar, creating a perfectly balanced cocktail. Other favourites included the Tiramisu cocktail – a creation from the LAB kitchens, it was a delectably rich mix of flavours of the Patrón XO Café Tequila, Mozart white and dark liqueurs and mascarpone cheese all topped with an invigorating shot of espresso and dusted with super rich dark chocolate powder.

For those who don’t fancy an alcoholic tipple, there are a few delicious creations in their ‘Hall of Shame.’ We sampled the Melonie, a refreshing blend of watermelon, apple and cranberry juices shaken with lemon juice and elderflower cordial and also the fantastically flamboyant Parade which consisted of a passion fruit and raspberry puree mixed with fresh apple, orange and lime juices.

The only downsides are the fact that bartenders can take quite a while to concoct your drinks – but this is small price to pay for the excellently crafted drinks they come up with. I’ve also heard complaints that the cocktails are too sweet so if you like a cocktail that packs a punch, it might be a good idea to ask the bartenders to tone down the sugariness.

Overall, LAB is a great place to hang out  – there's a good vibe, an excellent cocktail menu and friendly service.



Details, details:

12 Old Compton Street

London W1D 4TQ

020 7437 7820

Taro, Brewer Street ♥

Ok, so I have a major case of the non-sleepies and figured I'd better do some posting before exams take over my life and I have to go into dormouse style hibernation (that's if dormice flailed over revision while listening to the Smiths and downed Red Bull...hm yeah). Plus I had decent pictures I'd taken from Tuesday which turned out fine despite the fact that I'm an idiot when it comes to photography. 


Before I launch into my review, in light of the tragedies occurring in Japan, I felt it would be appropriate to include some links so readers can donate if they want. It goes without saying that this is a super worthy cause and the smallest amount can help make a world of difference. 

Click here to to donate to the British Red Cross Japan Tsunami Appeal 


Click here to see a list of legitimate charities that you can offer support to (This goes to a Time magazine link which is regularly updated with new and trusted charities working in Japan). 

Breakfast at Princi ♥♥♥

The Interior (Bakery to your left, Coffee Bar straight ahead...mhm). Photography by  Kai Hendry

Ok, so things haven’t been quite the same since I’ve stopped doing regular Friday latte and almond croissant time at the Terrace Café at the Southbank Centre. Unfortunately, there’s been a pretty big brunch shaped hole in my life and when Yi-Bin suggested we go to Princi on Sunday morning, I instantly perked up.

Uncharacteristically, on Sunday morning, Yi-Bin and I managed to wake up before our alarm clock went off, an amazing event I feel I should take care to record for posterity. After the usual, dazed morning confusion which usually consists of me staring into a mirror and wondering what it is that makes me resemble a reanimated corpse, we perused the papers and then made our way to Soho, the land of lost dreams.

Despite the fact that we’d gotten there super early by Sunday morning in London standards, Princi was already packed and bustling with the morning crowd – an interesting mix of families, couples, bachelors poring over copies of the FT and the occasional hipster. As soon as we walked in, we were greeted a potent and welcoming smell – a heady mix of freshly baked bread, smoky hot coffee and herbs.

Photography by Suziedepingu

The interior was simple and tasteful. Super clean lines, dark woodwork and a ridiculously cool marble bar with a hovering mini water feature perched alongside it means the décor gets a thumbs up from me.  It was obviously another Alan Yau creation – the minimalist interior was a little similar to Busaba and we also spotted three Buddha idols tucked behind the coffee bar. We managed to grab some seats at the marble bar and wandered off to order.

Being naturally indecisive, I’d already figured out what I was going to have when we checked the website last night– the usual latte and almond croissant. But when I reached the bakery, which was teeming with every type of bread imaginable - lustrous, golden mounds of deliciousness as well as palm sized, fluffy milk rolls decorated with a rustic smattering of poppy seeds, I was totally spoilt for choice. This wasn’t the only fare on offer– butter rich, flaky crescents and pastries encircling amber pools of jam were also displayed in the counter.

Major drool. Photography by Kai Hendry 

After uselessly gawping at the counter for what seemed like a lifetime, I decided to do something completely wild by Renie standards and instead of going for one of the delicious baked goodies, I decided to order the Princi Breakfast and a soy cappu.

The coffee bar is separate from the food displays and pay points and is manned by a team of ridiculously slick Italian baristas. My cappu appears almost instantly and the unmistakeable scent of good, strong coffee overwhelms my nose. Topped with a thick, coffee infused foam, it’s the perfect antidote to the hangover acquired having too much fun at LSJN awards.

The mini fountain - (I poked this). Photography by  Mark Hillary

I gaze at the water feature at the bar while Yi-Bin goes off to order and await the arrival of my Princi breakfast, staring longingly at the other clientele who seem to be digging into their breakfasts with gusto. And then suddenly, it appeared.

Before I launch further into this review, I have to point out that I don’t like eating breakfast. It’s my least favourite meal of the day (I can just about stomach a coffee), I stopped bothering years ago and I usually skip it because it makes me feel oddly uncomfortable. However, upon seeing the waitress approaching me, I had a mini-epiphany and in a fit of confused teenage angst, fell in love with the concept of eating breakfast all over again.

As the Princi Breakfast was placed before me, I paused to marvel at the sheer awesomeness of it. It was all pretty simple actually – perfectly creamy scrambled eggs, Tuscan sausage, crispy pancetta, deliciously spiced cannellini beans with an onion and tomato sauce, slow roast tomato flavoured with garlic and rosemary, Portobello mushroom  infused with rosemary oil and two thick, toasted chunks of freshly baked wholemeal bread.

Cappuccino! Photography by Katie Tang

All the flavours were simple, clean and most importantly fresh. I had a great time slathering the velvety smooth eggs onto the thick slices of wholemeal goodness and relishing the deliciously rich flavours of the pancetta and sausage. The spiciness of the beans and the tangy, garlicky tomato was just enough to cut across the richness of the meat, ensuring that breakfast was satisfying and refreshing as opposed to being too heavy and cumbersome.  

Yi-Bin had the same breakfast as I, but opted for a refreshing mint tea which came in a plain white china teapot. Although her serving of scrambled eggs were slightly overcooked and dry as a result, breakfast was definitely a success – the food was exceptionally fresh and delectable and service was faultless and fast.

It is therefore, not a surprise that Princi is becoming one of Soho’s new hotspots – opening early and closing late, it caters for a wide range of people and with its impeccable service and food, I’m already planning my next trip there for dinner. 

Street Kitchen Returns!!!

Ok, remember how I raved about Street Kitchen like a madwoman and stalked it around London?


Well it's back! *prances around with joy*


Click here for more info :)

Short and Sweet ♥

Major Macaron Love! Photography by Robyn Lee

‘All good things must come to an end,’ a phrase first echoed by Chaucer in 1347 and more recently by Nelly Furtado albeit through a different medium, certainly rings true in the following tale to which I now relate. This is because a short while ago, I made the life changing decision to do a sugar detox, that is, completely give up on dessert and excessively sugary snacks for an extended period.


This self induced tragedy may seem quite melodramatic to most ordinary folk, however any seasoned dessert lover will know that kicking this decadent, sugary habit is worse than giving up smoking. There are no friendly and supportive helplines to call when you feel like you’re missing out on a sugar rush, no NHS funded counselling, no patches, or even some sort of bizarre inhaler to help counteract the longing for something luxuriously sweet and yummy tap dancing on one’s palate.

Chocolate Millefeuille from William Curley, yum! Photography by suziedepingu

I did however, have an extremely good reason for taking this somewhat drastic step. For the majority of my life I had happily succumbed to the temptation of every yummy treat presented to me, be it a decadent Ladurée macaron or the humble sticky toffee pudding, with sheer and unabashed abandon, completely reckless as to the possible consequences of my inability to curb my appetite for anything that consisted mostly of sugar. 


Like a bad boyfriend I had indulged for too long, my relationship with sweetness had actually soured with my love for dessert and was playing havoc with my system, in the form of an expanding waistline and constant sugar highs which needed constant refuelling lest they fall into the dreaded sugar lows – all this possibly furthered by my potent fear and hatred of rigorous exercise.


This was quite an extreme regime, but I did want to distance myself away from anything too sugary for a fortnight to ensure that my evil sugar dependence was well and truly annihilated. I have to admit, the no cake rule was somewhat painful but I soldiered on, knowing that it was for the best. I have never crash dieted, mainly because I have zero self control and I am easily persuaded by food adverts (M & S anyone?) so this was really a test of my willpower.

Brownies and Whipped Cream? Ooh yah. Photography by Robyn Lee

My most embarrassing moment, by a mile, was probably when I spent a considerable amount of time eyeing up a gorgeous display in Pierre Hermé not unlike a slimy pervert giving a couple of buxom maids a long and salacious look of lasciviousness. I was however brought back to my senses by an assistant who peered at me through the other side of the shop window worriedly and gave a small wave. 


Although this was nowhere near as bad as being caught playing strip poker by one of my form tutors in senior school, this was pretty high up on my personal ‘everyday life embarrassing incidents’ scale, somewhat above the ordinary awkwardness of say, walking out of the house with hair rollers still attached or perhaps dropping a silver platter on a child’s head (unfortunately all real life incidents that have actually occurred within my lifetime).

Cinnananananamon Buns forever! Photography by Robyn Lee

Despite the fact that this was not a particularly pleasant experience, I now had plenty of time to reassess my excesses. What had originally been occasional comfort eating had turned to a discomforting habit and after my sugar free fortnight, I saw the benefits. My waistline had (not surprisingly) shrunk and I was no longer a victim of my mid afternoon sugar grouches. With great trepidation I have now decided to hit the dessert trolley once more but this time, instead of my previous regime of careless abandon, there will definitely be some casual calorie control going on.


One profoundly interesting thing I did discover though, when I took the time to retrain my palate, was that I was enjoying eating dessert far more than I previously had. I was no longer on a crazed, one woman mission to devour every single type of known dessert on the planet, for I had somehow managed to retrain myself to relish one tasty dessert and leave things be. And so readers, I leave you with another well known saying which summarises what I have learnt from this experience...when it comes to dessert and sugary treats, less is most definitely more.

♥

Garlic & Shots Review...

I told you it looked like a dodgy dive bar....

I had been looking forward to dinner at Garlic & Shots after hearing a close friend raving about how awesome it was. In fact, I planned the dinner to coincide with a Christmas send off for one of my girlfriends because she was returning home for the holidays and I wouldn't be seeing her for a while.

Located on Frith Street, it’s not too difficult to find although I did manage to walk past it twice due to my poor navigational skills. The front is frankly, pretty unremarkable and inside it looks a bit like a dive bar that one’s mother would not approve of one frequenting. Still, I hadn’t been expecting anything particularly glam – it’s marketed as a bar and kitchen and known for its wonderful array of vodka shots and garlic loaded cooking (hence the name, folks).  There was loud metal type music going on in the background which I’m usually not a big fan of, but I soaked it in since I figured it was all part of the atmosphere.

Unfortunately this was when our bad service saga began to unravel. Firstly, when I attempted to explain that I had a table booked under my name, I was greeted with a blank stare and then an insistence that my booking did not exist, despite the fact that I assured them repeatedly that I had most definitely made a reservation. I persevered. Attempt two with a different waiter fared somewhat better and upon checking the reservation book myself, I could see that I had indeed been booked in but for the wrong day. This was mildly frustrating because I’d been made to feel like it was somehow my fault and wasn’t even given an apology. Still, I didn’t want things to get off to a bad start, so I sat down and hoped that things would improve.

After my girlfriends arrived, we kicked things off with some shots – I went on the recommendation of the only friendly waiter we encountered and had a Tony Montana, a creamy concoction of vodka, Kahlua, kola and crème de cacao which tasted like deliciously alcoholic liquid butterscotch.  The Instant Margarita and the Bloodshot – a lethal but yummy combination of vodka, tomato, chilli and spices were also major wins.

Garlicky Nachos and guac, oh yeah.

The food was pretty good too and service was fast. We decided to share a couple of starters before picking our mains and chose the nacho avocado – essentially cheese nachos with a seriously garlicky salsa dip and some guacamole. Overall this was tasty and packed with intense garlic flavours but in the words of one of my dinner companions the cheese distribution was ‘lame,’ meaning that we were left with un-cheesed, and unloved chips at the bottom of the bowl which no one really wanted.

Deep fried Potato Skins and lame Snakebite salsa 

We also munched on deep fried potato skins which were served with a snakebite salsa garlic dip. Potato skins were crispy, not too greasy and lightly salted – perfect. Sadly, the dip had neither the garlicky flavour we were expecting, nor the promised spicy kick which was a tad disappointing. It tasted a bit like watery tomato juice which someone had made a half assed attempt to spice up.

Due to the generous portion size, we felt fairly satisfied after the starters but went on to order mains anyway. I opted for the garlic prawn mini-enchilada as I was feeling pretty full by this point, and it was deliciously filling without being too heavy. The little wheat tortilla was piled high with smooth garlic infused mash and three big skewered prawns which were flavoursome and fresh, which I suspect had been previously subjected to some light immersion in a chilli and garlic marinade. This was all topped with a creamy garlic and herb sauce.

Gruesome...I'm not entirely sure what Yi-Bin's arm was doing there...

My companions were equally pleased with their orders – the portion size of the garlic and honey roasted baby back ribs was gargantuan and came with sides of a whole roasted garlic and more crispy potato skins and unfortunately, the watery ‘snakebite salsa’ stuff. The sea bass looked pretty decent too – apparently very ‘nosh-able.’ The skin was nicely crisped and perched on the fillet like a perky fascinator, a style favoured by many middle class ladies of a certain age at the races in Ascot.

We decided to skip dessert as we felt that while the omnipresent garlic was a welcome guest where savoury dishes were concerned, none of us felt like embarking on the taste bud adventures presented to us in the form of honey and garlic ice cream or a garlic brownie. It was late, and even though I was only going home afterwards, I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to my abode with the heavy perfume of garlic hanging about me in the same way a gentleman might reek of cheap eau de toilette after frequenting a certain establishment in the early hours of the morning.

Enchilaaaaaaaadaaaaa!

The bill for the food and drink was totally fine- and as per usual, there was a 12.5% service charge, which we had decided we wouldn’t be paying the full amount for due to the stony faced silence I’d received while I was trying to tell them about my reservation and the total lack of any apology from them. 


This then led to an awkward five minute confrontation with a particularly irate waitress. Just as my dinner companions and I were about to concede and pay so the aforementioned angry waitress would leave us alone, she let off one final outburst and declared that if we ‘didn’t want to pay for the table service then we should go to Burger King.’ There was an uncomfortable silence, she stormed off and we finally realised enough was enough. We left their establishment.

I will definitely not be returning and I suggest you don’t either unless they sort out their staffing issues.

In short: Pretty decent bar food, weird atmosphere and frequented by an interesting crowd but certainly doesn’t live up to the hype. Excruciatingly disappointing service – the messed up reservation was forgivable, the rude comment most definitely was not.