Duck soup

New restaurants open in London all the time. You would need a hell of a lot of time and money to try them all. Some things however, stand out from the crowd. A restaurant headed up by Julian Biggs and other team members from Hix's Oyster and Chop House? This was something I had to see.

There began my surprisingly easy quest to eat at Duck Soup in Soho. Twitter had told tales of long queues and significant waiting times but we strolled in for dinner at 7pm on a Tuesday night and were immediately seated at a place in the bar. So that was nice and easy.

Now I don't mind eating dinner at the bar, some people might, but then if they do, I suspect that Duck Soup isn't the kind of place they would enjoy at all. The atmosphere is, on the whole, very laid back. Vinyl records spin in the corner, belting out an eclectic mix of tunes apparently chosen by both the staff and the customers. Laid back is fine, but it should also go hand in hand with comfortable, and there was a significant failing on that front.

The bar wasn't deep enough for you to sit straight ahead without bruising your knees, so unless you have incredibly short legs, you are pretty much forced to adopt that legs to the side, torso to the front eating position. Not comfortable.

Even less comfortable when halfway through the meal, more people were squeezed onto said bar and I spent the remainder of my meal being jolted in the kidney vicinity by my new neighbour's elbow. Don't get me wrong - he wasn't doing it out of spite but there simply wasn't enough room for him to eat without said rather annoying kidney jabbing action.

Gripe over, the food was stellar. The menu changes daily, and it was nice to see a handwritten menu - small things really do make an impression. We started with smoked crab roe on toast (can't get enough of the little things it would seem) and followed it up with veal shin (me) and gurnard with scallops and clams (Jon).

The veal was melt in your mouth tender with a depth of flavour that is rarely encountered in that meat. The gurnard was firm and fleshy albeit bony, and came with a generous portion of scallops and clams.

Both dishes had us dipping into each other's plates and generally thinking that all is well with a world where you get to eat such things for dinner. The creme caramel was a little on the eggy side, and could have done with a stronger caramel to counterbalance that but was still a good finish to what had been a mostly enjoyable dinner.

NOPI: The Preview

Yesterday was totally like the best day ever! Yeah man. I had been waiting and waiting for it to roll around for weeks. Why? One word. NOPI.

Ottolenghi is one of the darlings of the London food scene - it would seem that the man can do no wrong. A meat eater who will happily showcase the discoveries to be made in vegetarian dishes, his cafes have gained him a secure star on London's culinary hall of fame. But was his new restaurant venture NOPI, with co-executive chef Sarit Packer, going to be up to scratch?

There's no better way to put a new restaurant to the test than to go on the first day of its soft opening. In a way, you're almost seting yourself up for disappointment - the kitchen isn't quite up to scratch, the staff haven't quite polished the service, the timing's a bit off. Well, there was none of that yesterday.

Instead, we were confronted with an almost perfectly seamless meal, a series of brilliantly executed dishes that will stand out in my memory for times to come.

The food is what it's all about. During the soft opening, they've opted to showcase the sharing dishes that will form the backbone of their main menu after they're fully launched. Dishes are of a mediterranean bent and bursting with flavours.

As expected from Ottolenghi, there is a significant vegetarian selection, but those who cannot do without their meat will be happy to spy dishes such as ossobuco, beef brisket croquets and baked lamb belly peeping out from the menu too.

We started off with the seared prawns with fennel, white oregano and feta which was elegant but simple. The prawns (see opening shot) were plump and firm, nicely offset by the saltiness of the feta. So far so good.



Next up was the baked blu di pecora cheesecake with wild mushrooms. I cant even begin to explain how much I loved this dish. My initial doubts about a savoury cheesecake disappeared in the blink of the eye. It was light, fluffy and delicately flavoured and definitely my favourite dish of the day.



The hake kebab was oddly shaped like a fishcake, perched seductively atop of a bed of yoghurt and garnished with pickled lemons and salad. it was nice, the hake was flaky and soft, nicely seasoned but a bit bland until you paired it with one of the lemons and then, zing, it came alive. Culinary magic at work.

I'm never normally a polenta fan but, for the sage and parmesan polenta that came with the ossobuco, I'll make an exception. Cheesy beyond belief, this swiftly put paid to my theory that polenta was overrated and overused. The cheesiness worked well with the melting ossobuco for another dish the tastebuds thoroughly approved of.



Dessert came in the form of quinces, with quince jelly and Vin Santo Sabayon. Unlike the jellies of our childhood, this was a barely set jelly with an initially disconcerting texture, particularly paired as it was with the warm sabayon.

It was one of the more unusual desserts I've come actoss in a while and very much the better for it. It's nice, as a non-chocolate pudding eater, to be faced with something other than cheesecake or creme brulee.
And therein ended the meal.

Unlike the Ottolenghi cafes, NOPI is quite a formal dining experience. Sleekly presented staff vanish your coat away at the blink of an eye and seat you quickly and efficiently. The white walls with gold touches shouts modern sophistication, and if you were left in any doubt, the mirrored emporium that is the toilets screams Soho glamour.

But it's not all starched napkins and stiff upper lips. Our waiter and waitress were fantastic - making suggestions here and there, joking and, most importantly, smiling - goodness knows they've got something to smile about if they get to eat that food every day.

And I'll leave you with a snap of the very mirror-y toilets...





Waiting rating: Excellent. Funny, talkative and friendly. Curiously no unattractive people - was this intentional?
Scoffing potential: Seemingly endless.
Wallet buddy: £25 a head with a glass of wine during the 50% off period. Double it thereafter. Unlike lots of other places, it is worth it.
The crowd: Business lunchers, quite a formal set
21-22 Warwick Street
London W1B 5NE
(0)20 7494 9584


Tel: 020 7856 2154

You got the best of my love: Bob Bob Ricard

I generally don't like to go with the flow and pride myself on a downright cantankerous outlook to many aspects of popular culture. Dan Brown = worst writer on the planet. Twilight films and books are so godawful I literally cannot get my head around how so much of the world's population has been duped into paying good money to see them. Team Edward or Team Jacob? How about team stick them all down the plughole and be done with the whole lot?

But even I can admit that there are some things that receive their just desserts and Bob Bob Ricard in Soho is one of them. Other bloggers have raved about Bob Bob and for once, I agree. Having dined there twice, I've been served two flawless meals - pretty much a first for any restaurant in London.

Unlike Bar Boulud, Bob Bob Ricard is a restaurant that understands the concept of space - the railway-styled seating is perfect for two or four, though maybe a bit too tight for six. With two, Farzana and I had the run of the table and didnt we make use of it?

Before we started the meal 'proper' we tried a pairing of traditional russian salted cucumber and Kauffman collection 2006 vodka 'to open the palate' (this is what I love about the Russians). The salted cucumber on its own is probably not going to rock your world, but the pairing with the vodka brings out flavours I wouldnt have imagined from this rather bland little vegetable.

The next amuse bouche was pickled herring with boiled potato and Bob Bob's infamous homemade zubrovka. I cant think of many better ways to start a meal...

After that, it was a parade of brilliance. The venison steak tartare I'd tried last time, but loved it so much I couldnt resist getting it again. The quail's egg and crispbreads set off the dense flavours of the tartare. Judging from the smells wafting across the table and the noises of appreciation, the scallop and shrimp shell pie went down equally well.

Mains came in the form of Lobster & chips (again another staple that can go so, so horribly wrong, as anyone who's been faced with an overcooked piece of chew can account for) and poached turbot with truffled mashed potatoes and duxelles. The lobster was impeccable - fresh and firm served with a just-on-the-right-side-of garlicky sauce and crispy frites. The turbot was a success story of its own, with strongly flavoured duxelles to complement but not overwhelm the delicate fish.

And desserts. It took some (not much) mutual persuading that dessert really, really was a good thing after all of that food. But a cheeky glance proved too much temptation for us to resist and we finally settled on the Grand Marnier souffle and Strawberry Souffle. When ordering the notoriously tricky desserts, we joked with the waiter that the chef had better be up to the challenge. He was, much to our delight. So finished a rather flawless meal...

Maybe the next time someone recommends something/ somewhere to see/ read/ eat - I'll take it on board. Though I still draw the line at Twilight. I'd rather watch paint dry.


Waiting rating: Is it wrong to say that the waiter was cute? What?! He was... That aside, service was excellent anyway.
Scoffing potential: If you can't eat and love the food at BBR you deserve to be sent to the land of bland
Wallet buddy: By no means cheap but balanced by large portions and sheer brilliance
The crowd: Soho's young and trendy, Soho's old and trendy.
1 Upper James Street
LONDON W1F 9DF
020 3145 1000