Lunch at Wahaca

Wahaca has been a feature of the London restaurant scene since the summer of 2007, but the novelty of Thomasina Miers' punchy Mexican street food has by no means worn off.  On the contrary, the 4th outlet opened in Soho recently and the 1st in Covent Garden still regularly has queues stretching out of the door.

Many of you will know Wahaca already, but they've just released their 2011 Summer menu (one or two of the heavier dishes taken off and a few lighter ones added), so a couple of friends and I decided to check it out.

The Westfield branch that we visited is not all that busy compared to the buzzing Covent Garden Wahaca that I have eaten in before, but nevertheless the welcome from our waitress was as exuberant and friendly as I have come to expect.  We ordered a Horchata (cooling rice/almond milk and cinnamon drink) each and studied the menu.  Wahaca's menu is pretty flexible - there's something to please all appetites. My companions choose a few street food dishes to share; some of the new summer additions and a couple of old favourites.  I was a little hungrier so ordered a couple of the newly added small plates as well as a larger dish.

Mere minutes later food started appearing in front of us and the air was filled with the mouthwatering aromas of chilli and lime.  Scallop and shrimp ceviche tostadas were zingy and fresh; the lime-cured fish mixed with salsa sitting on crisp, fried tortillas - delightfully messy to eat!  Summer veg tacos came with splodges of deeply smoky chipotle sauce on top and crumbled white cheese.  Crispy, deep fried chicken taquitos and spicy Chicken Tinga tacos were very tasty and the chorizo and potato quesadillas and pork pibil tacos were as savoury, melting and delicious as they always are.

I was hugely jealous of my friends' Queso Fundido; another new addition to the menu.  A dish of thick melted cheese with delicious, dark green slivers of cactus hiding under the surface and adorned with a huge golden-brown crisp of fried cheese.  It was served with soft tacos - the idea being to shovel forkfuls of the stringy cheese concoction into them before stuffing them messily into your mouth.  I was allowed a forkful to taste… and was then very tempted to flag down the waitress and order one for myself straight away.

I probably would have done, had it not been for my Pork Torta.  On the menu, this is described as a 'mexican club sandwich'.  What appeared in front of me was a soft, lightly toasted burger bun crammed with lettuce, refried black beans, guacamole, salsa, sweetcorn and a very generous amount of spicy, slow-cooked pork pibil.  The juicy, tender pork and the other fillings combined into a fantastically spicy, vibrant mouthful and I was feeling pretty stuffed by the time I'd scoffed the lot  (Annoyingly, having been watching Masterchef the night before, I couldn't quite shake the image of a little Gregg Wallace sitting on my shoulder shouting ''Corrr, it's like a soft, spicy, meeeaty MOUTH-HUG…'' in his dulcet cockney tones…)

I had absolutely no room left for pudding but my friends shared a very decent Flan de la Casa.

A little while ago, I had the pleasure of meeting the lovely Thomasina Miers at a book signing (her colourful book 'Mexican Food Made Simple' does exactly what it says on the cover), we had a brief chat about Tequila - a thing that we both adore.  She recommended that I try Mezcal as well - something that I have no experience with whatsoever.  As far as I understand it, the difference between the two spirits is that when making Tequila, the agave cactus is cooked by steaming before fermentation and distilling, whereas in Mezcal production it is slowly roasted in fire-pits.  I believe that in Mexico, Mezcal is regarded as a superior spirit to Tequila, so when I noticed a couple of Mezcals added to Wahaca's already impressive list of Tequilas I thought I'd try one (the Del Maguey).  I'm really glad I did.  The flavour profile was initially similar to that of good, reposado Tequila, but there was less alcohol burn and an aromatic, almost resinous quality on the mid-palette which tapered to a rich smokey aftertaste.  Smooth and surprisingly easy to drink!

I've eaten at Wahaca several times now and I have never had a bad experience, the staff are friendly and well informed, the food is vibrant, unpretentious and great value for money but the most impressive thing for me is the consistency that they achieve.  Every dish is cooked, seasoned and presented just right, every time - not something that can be said for many restaurants that are this busy.  I'm sure the queues will continue for years to come.

My one, tiny (/petty) criticism would be directed at the really annoying, chunky, plastic baby spoons that come with desserts - they're actually quite unpleasant to put in your mouth!!

Food, drinks and service for three came to about £60 in total.

Wahaca
Southern Terrace
Westfield Shopping Centre
London
W12 7SL
8/10
££ ***
Other Branches:
66, Chandos Place - Covent Garden
80, Wardour St. - Soho
1 Canada Square - Docklands
~~ My thanks to my friend Seb Stanley for taking much prettier photos than I could ever have managed. ~~

Ceviche

Ever since I spent a few weeks travelling around southern Peru and sampled my first sour, slippery, slice of citrus-cured fish, I’ve always been fascinated by Ceviche.  I love the way it looks as thought it has been seared on the outside, even though it hasn’t been anywhere near the heat.  I always order it if I see it on a menu (e.g. various delicious offerings from Wahaca – can’t wait to try the MSC Scallop version on their new summer menu).  For some reason though, I rarely make ceviche at home.  Odd really, as it’s so simple!

When I unpacked a beautiful chunk of Mahi-Mahi from my shopping bag the other day, it seemed to be the most natural way to do the fish justice.

Here’s how:

For the marinade:

Juice of 1 lemon

Juice of  1 large lime (or 2 smaller/less juicy ones)

½ a small white or red onion, as thinly sliced as you can manage.

Half a green chilli, chopped finely (I keep the seeds in for a bit of punch)

2 tbsp chopped coriander

A generous pinch of sea salt  - I used hibiscus salt (Maldon whizzed with a few dried hibiscus flowers), I like the faint perfume and fruitiness that it imparts and the attractive pink colour it adds).

First choose your fish: pretty much any fish will do I think, providing it’s as fresh as possible.  I prefer firm-fleshed, meaty, white fish.

Mix the marinade ingredients together in a dish so that the liquid is deep enough to submerge at least half of your fish fillet.

Place the raw fish in and marinate for about 2 hours (this will depend on how thick your fish is, how dense its texture and how cured you want it – mine was about 3cm thick and I like it quite ‘raw’ in the middle).

Spoon the marinade over the fillet and allow the herbs/onions to sit on top helping to cure the upper side.  Baste occasionally and turn the fish completely half-way through the 2 hours.

 Once the curing time is up, remove the fish, wipe off the excess marinade and  slice carefully into 5mm slices with the sharpest knife you can find.

Traditionally, this dish is served with a simple salad but for my dinner I had it alongside some steamed sprouting broccoli and some of the crunchy onions from the marinade, drained, on the side.

St. John vs. Polpetto

For those of you who are already thinking that this is an odd, or even ridiculous comparison to be making, please bear with me – I hope my point will be made!

Also, my apologies for lack of decent pics - my camera was stolen before I had chance to upload them!!

St. John in Smithfield is nothing if not controversial.  Its champions talk of food free from frippery and the devotion to forgotten meat cuts, ‘nose-to-tail’ and such like.  It has, after all, featured on the ‘Top 50 Restaurants in the World’ list for a while, has held on to a Michelin star for 2 years and boasts a list of celebrity foodies and chefs who rave about it.

However, its critics are less satisfied with the pared-down approach to dining and question whether St. John really has a place in the constellation of london Michelin restaurants.

Having read mixed reviews (e.g. here, here  and here) a friend and I decided to see for ourselves.

The restaurant finds itself in a refurbished smokehouse in Clerkenwell – it has deliberately been kept minimal: open plan, bare walls, no art, paper tablecloths etc.  It really is the antithesis to the usual Michelin glamour.  The antidote, some would say.

The service was friendly and casual (the first time I’ve ever been served by a waiter in a blood-stained apron!) and the menu was full of intriguing things.  To start I ordered a warm octopus and potato salad.  It was everything octopus should be and so frequently isn’t; meaty and toothsome without being chewy or slimy and the dressing was a savoury, tangy delight.  The pig skin salad sitting opposite me was a generous pile of crunchy, deeply porky crackling shards and nicely dressed watercress.  My friend reported goosebumps after the 1^st mouthful.  The portions were ample, but boths dishes were pretty much dumped on the plates.

When ordering our main courses we had differing approaches: I wanted to try something completely new to me and he wanted to see how well St. John could prepare a simple, standard dish.  To that end I had the poached lambs’ tongues and he the roast duck breast.  The tongues were a revelation; succulent, soft and salty with a deep lamby flavour – not as ‘offally’ as I had expected.  They were paired with crunchy shavings of blanched carrot, whole radishes, some rocket leaves and white beans.  I ordered some boiled new potatoes as well and these were genuinely the most delicious I have ever eaten – with the fantastic deep, buttery flavour that I have only ever found in roast spuds before.  Sadly, my fellow foodie’s experience was not as good.  His duck was fairly moist and pink, but surprisingly flavourless – actually pretty bland.  The skin, though browned, was soft and devoid of the savoury intensity and crispiness that good roast duck should have (I am pretty sure it was cooked sous-vide).  It was accompanied by a lone braised turnip; halved and with a slightly tough skin and a splash of thin pan juices from the duck.  The dish was pretty charmless and left him sorely underwhelmed.  It was not poorly cooked per se, at least not enough to be returned to the kitchen, but both of us felt we had cooked better at home: not something you would expect from a restaurant in this league.

We decided against puddings (Paul A. Young chocolates is walking distance from the restaurant and we wanted to save room!) and left St. John with mixed feelings.

2 courses and a glass of wine each, potatoes and a side salad came to £76 including service.

On reflection, I feel that St. John is a good place to go to try well-cooked examples of the less frequently used parts of the beast.  Next time I feel an offal craving, I will be back to see what their ever-changing menu has to challenge my tastebuds.  However, I find their deliberately spartan, no-frills mess hall ethos to be oddly more pretentious than most of the restaurants they are trying to set themselves apart from.  If meat is to be unadorned and cooked simply, then it must be nothing short of excellent.  If a duck breast is the only thing sitting on a plate costing close to £20, then it should be the paragon to all duck breasts, not a lament to the misuse of a waterbath.  I do not think that a Michelin inspector eating the same meal would have allowed them to keep their controversial star.  

After our lunch in Smithfield and a wander around Islington and Soho, we decided to see if we could find a more inspiring, better value meal to put the smiles back on our faces.  I am yet to read a single bad word about Polpetto, so figured this would be a good bet.

We were not entirely sure we were in the right place as we wandered up the unassuming staircase by The French House pub on Dean St.  However, at the top, we were greeted warmly and shown to a small table somewhat wedged in between others.  The 28 cover restaurant is crammed into a single room above the pub but, at 6.45, when we arrived, it was already pretty busy and the atmosphere was palpably alive.

We ordered an Aperol spritz each while we perused the menu.  It quickly became clear that we both wanted to order the entire menu and it took a lot of discussion and willpower before we had whittled it down to a mere 6 dishes to share.

The 1^st to arrive was a carpaccio of swordfish adorned with pink peppercorns and dill.  The plate was tiny, but the flavours huge –grins were instantly restored to our faces and our mouths were left watering for the following dishes.  Next came a pizzeta with cured pork shoulder and pickled peppers – as thin and crispy as any I have ever had and incredibly moreish, and a bruschetta of ricotta, grilled fennel and prosciuto.  The fennel was wafer thin and char-striped; its cool, smoky slipperiness complimenting the salty ham perfectly.  Warm lentils with creamy burrata and heady basil oil were hungrily demolished.  Borlotti beans with wild garlic and rosemary crumbs were good, but I would have liked to have seen more of the wild garlic; it was a little lost amongst the beans.  Finally the braised ox cheek on white polenta arrived.  The cheek was so tender that we could literally eat it with spoons, the flavour was deeply beefy accented with slivers of olive and some melt-in-the-mouth cherry tomatoes.  The polenta was very soft – wetter than I am used to, but silky and lovely nonetheless.

My dessert was a small, dense polenta cake doused liberally with an orange and campari syrup and a splodge of yoghurt icecream. Pleasingly tart, slightly bitter and very moreish.  My friend’s flourless chocolate and walnut cake was a little dry and crumbly and rather heavy – but tasty.

2 spritzers, 6 sharing dishes, 2 puds and service came to £69.  We waddled back down the stairs feeling fat and happy and vowing to return soon to try the rest of the menu.  The only thing which spoilt an otherwise excellent evening was the fact that our table was very close to the adjacent one, which belonged to the most irritating diners I have ever come across – they were shouting, or rather bellowing conversation at each other across the table, on topics ranging from better restaurants they’d eaten in to French prostitutes, all the time swearing, guffawing and gesticulating wildly – it was almost impossible to keep my own thread of conversation going and I struggled not to butt in and ask them to pipe down a bit!  Space is at a premium in Soho and I don’t begrudge Polpetto trying to squeeze as many tables into their outstanding little eatery as possible – we were just unlucky, I guess, with our neighbours!

You might wonder why I am comparing these two restaurants.  It's not just that I ate at them both in 1 day, but rather that I think they share similar ideals – unpretentious, honest grub, celebrating the ingredients rather than aesthetics and high concept.  One may be rooted in traditional/historical English cuisine and the other in vibrant Italian fare but they are not that different in essence.

However I feel that, where Polpetto wins, St. John fails.  Polpetto do their best to excite and titilate you in a buzzing, friendly environment, whereas eating at St. John you feel as if you are being challenged to appreciate their food.  It is as though they are picking a fight; inviting and relishing the controversy, daring you to disagree.  This, to my mind, detracts from the experience.

St. John Bar and Restaurant

26 St. John St,

London

EC1M 4AY

6/10
£££  X

~~~~~~~~

Polpetto

Upstairs at The French House

49 Dean St,

London.

W1D 5BG
9/10
££-£££  ***

'Not another bloody food blog...'

Yes, yes I know – just what the world needs, another blogger musing and enthusing, bleating and tweeting about restaurants, chocolate shops and what he ate for dinner last night.

The internet is brimming over with amateur foodie ramblings; much of it twaddle and trash… but a passionate, eloquent few have inspired me, amused me and often kept me up way past my bed time by sharing their ideas and experiences.

Having been a dedicated glutton in London for a little while now, I thought it about time to jump on the bandwagon and add my humble voice to the distinguished likes of Lizzie (Hollow Legs), Steven (Adventures of a Foodie), Chris (Cheese and Biscuits) and others (gastrogeek, foodurchin, thecattylife, londonfoodie et al.), even if no-one is listening (at first…)

My aim is to draw together the elements I like from the blogs that I read myself – my opinions of places I have eaten, interesting shops I’ve come across, wine I have tasted and food I have cooked.  All comments, reactions and thoughts are welcome (please be nice though – I’m new!)

So, here goes nothing…