Like Otto.

I’ve been wanting to try it out ever since it opened and I spotted it looking down from the top of the 328 bus. It looks almost like a coffee shop from the outside, but then you see the chalkboard set up outside that says pizza (ooh!), cornmeal pizza (huh?). Intriguing to say the least. Nowhere in London does this. In fact, I’m sure it’s out there, but I hadn’t seen anyone do this. Must try.

Fast forward a year and a bit, and I don’t live in the area anymore – a recipe for disaster. But then, I get an email from Otto’s PR advertising beer (they have Blue Moon!) and a slice for a fiver. Reason enough for going back to the old ‘hood, I thought.

Turns out the press release was a teensy bit wrong, and the deal is only if you join a club. However, the owner (or manager on duty, I’m not sure which) decided to give us the deal anyway, which is a lovely gesture (and why I’m mentioning it).

Like any good independent/modern pizza place, Otto’s menu is full of quite a few decent flavour concoctions. Apart from a cheese and tomato for the less adventurous palette, you’ll find slices with toppings like grape and brie (a special they had on the blackboard), BBQ pork and red lentil kofte.

The cornmeal crust makes them much, much, much more filling than a regular pizza. For a shorty like me, one piece actually filled me up quite nicely. I’ll admit it’s a little weird at first (sort of like a cornbread biscuit), but I got used to it quickly. I won’t say that I’d go for it every time as my pizza base of choice, but it didn’t detract.

And while the crust is uber-important, it’s the quality of the toppings that really make it for me.  I had the aforementioned kofte, which was nothing short of amazing.Why anyone hasn’t put red curry sauce and lentil koftes on a cornmeal base before? The thing I remember most (in addition to the zesty spice and fresh coriander) was the fact that it was so heavy. This pizza has a little junk in the trunk.

The other two slices were of a slightly more normal variety (think we had the sausage and pepperoni), and were good, but not as good as my little Middle Eastern pizza treat. Even my lovely boyfriend who tends to stick to the boring stuff classics agreed.

I just wish I lived closer.

Here’s a bit of what I enjoyed…

A sort of Thali with crispy rice as a pre-dinner snack

Delicious steamed pork momos with a spicy carrot coriander dipping sauce - enjoyed at a random road-side diner in the middle of nowhere

Great little snack of a fried egg and two types of pancake (one very similiar to dosa)

More momos... This time half steamed, half fried, filled with buffalo. Delish!

And while not actually in Nepal, I couldn’t help but stop by the Dairy Queen during our connection in Oman for a Butterfinger Blizzard. It was just as delicious in Arabic as it is in English

Walking in, I felt immediately in good hands. The place is warm, woody and welcoming – very much a mix of that old pub style with unencumbered luxury. Somehow the fine china, white linen and Tudor-style ceilings so low even a 5’3″ gal like myself had to duck for, work together.

The menu is your classic, poshed-up English dishes. Not tons to choose from, but something for every palette. For those who think British food is still all limp vegetables and boiled meats, I bring your attention to the below…

I decided to start with a couple nibbles in place of a full starter. The Scotch Egg (£3.50) in all its glory was marvellous. A very nice crispy exterior sprinkled with fresh sea salt flakes, opened up to a gooey (but not too gooey) quail’s egg hugged with minced pork so fresh and tender, you’d think it was picked off the farm that morning. Hell, it probably was.

After enquiring as to what the devil it was, I chose the Devils on Horseback (£1.80) as my second little nibble:

Bacon-wrapped, pitted dates. Nothing particularly earth-shattering, but I’ve always been partial to the bacon/fruit flavour combo.

Finally, on to mains. We must be really boring, because out of a table of 8 people, 7 of us ordered the Veal Chop, Cabbage, Onions, Sauce ‘Reform’ (£29.50). The odd duck out was a vegetarian. Poor girl – she missed out on this:

Considering it was taken on an iPhone 3GS, this is a photo I’m particularly proud of. It’s bright, colourful and almost looks like a transparent background. Luckily, the dish tasted as good as it looks.

But as good as the veal was, it was shadowed by something infinitely simpler: Chips. Delicious, delicious triple cooked chips. Piping hot, crispy on the outside, salty, not greasy Heston chips. I couldn’t get enough of them, so I ordered seconds for the table.

It may not be as flashy as its flashy molecular gastronomic neighbour, The Fat Duck, but it is good, proper British food with incredible service in an idyllic village setting. Anyone could complain a bit about value for money when talking about Heston Blumenthal, but you don’t book a table unless you’re planning on spending about £100 a head – simple as that. With those expectations, The Hind’s Head was a fantastic experience.

Now, I just to save up my pennies and complete the trifecta.

I know the pub itself is in a bit of a black hole. It’s one of those places that has probably changed ownership in names three times in the last couple years. I remember the space being a bit old man-looking from the outside. I can understand why – it’s stuck in front of a council estate and in between the void that is the journey between the winding streets of Farringdon to restaurant row on Upper Street. The new owners, however, have given it a breath of fresh air. I might even go so far as to say the pub is cute and quirky. Or at least as quriky as a pub can be. I mean, just look at this:

Stuck? Yeah, it’s soap. I probably spent a good minute searching for something with to cleanse my hands, staring at this weird wall fixture until I realised that it was ‘soap on the roap stick’. Probably not the most sanitary, but quite a cool idea.

But yes, the food. What little of it I had, I thought was fantastic. Even though the event was positioned as a re-launch of the pub/new menu/etc, it actually ended up being more of a tasting of English wines, paired with nibbles. I must admit I was sceptical of English wines, but for the most part, they were pretty good too. The Sharpham Estate, Dart Valley Reserve 2009 reminded me a fairly strong viogner, perfectly paird with ‘potted salmon’, which was actually quite a bit more like a parfait.

Maybe parfait is their thing though, the chicken liver variety was a fine little number. Served on homemade bread and whipped with enough consistency and texture to remind you it’s actually meat, this little dollop tickeld the tastebuds:

My favourite nibble of the night, though, was the Scotch Egg, paired Mumford’s English Rosé from Somerset.

I usually prefer my yolk to be slightly more runny, but the sausage casing and crumbly outside more than made up for it. I’ve been told they have a black pudding scotch egg on the menu as well, which I think I’m going to need at some point.

I guess it’s not a bad thing that the worst thing about this event was that there wasn’t enough food. Perhaps it was intentional – the ‘leave them wanting more’ mentality has sort of worked on me. So much so, that I am actually thinking of trekking all the way from Kilburn to Angel (possibly the most inconvenient journey in North London) to try it properly.

Yes, I have now been fully immersified into the wonder that is London’s only Gospel Brunch at Altitude 360. Hand to god, it’s probably the most fun I’ve had over prosecco in quite some time – and that’s saying a lot.

To give you an idea of the scale of awesome we were in for, here was the view from our table:

As you can imagine, a view like that needs to be matched by equally punchy food and entertainment in order not to be outshone (especially on one of London’s first sunny warm days). This bread plate was the first attempt:

Have I ever said how much I’ve missed cornbread? I mean, seriously… bouncy, rich, sweet, savoury cornbread is just amazing, and Altitude’s (thank god) didn’t disappoint. The brioche with caramelised onions deserves a hearty shout out as well.

Once the bread plate was demolished and  I stopped oggling out the window, I started oggling the menu. BBQ ribs, chorizo omelette, tuna steak, BBQ chicken. Lots of delicious choices, but in the end I decided to go to with a good old fashioned BBQ chicken.

The bird itself was fine and the BBQ actually a really good sticky effort. The rice and black beans (so difficult to find in the UK!) , however, were actually quite dry. The extra BBQ sauce helped and the Cajun potato wedges I ordered on the side were ace, but when 2/3 of your main is a no-go, you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

DQ went for a breakfast option: the chorizo and red pepper omelette served ‘on a roll’.

I have to admit, I was really confused about this one. It wasn’t so much served on a roll as it was ‘as a roll’, but lately I’ve found that restaurants try to be as cagey as possible with their menu descriptions. No longer are we allowed to visualise what will be on our plate when we order it. It always has to be a surprise now. (Like the time where I ordered a steak pie, and it came out looking like a tartare terrine)

Missing roll or not, the omelette was bursting full of red pepper goodness. It was slightly on the greasy side, but mostly because it was chock full of chorizo – and chorizo grease is probably the best grease of them all.

Desserts were absolutely heavenly. Mississippi Mud Pie was sinfully rich and Key Lime Pie – another American classic I’ve not seen over here – was as fresh and tart as if purchased from Florida earlier in the morning.

The only real downside at this point is that DQ and I were both physically hurting from having so much food. I blame the bread. The delicious, delicious bread.

As you can imagine though, the food is only a small reason you come to the gospel brunch. Our Southern feast would not have been complete with the soulful serenading from the sassy Gospel Choir. I could go on about their talent or the vibe in the restaurant, but it’s probably just easier if you watch the video.

Turns out, even though I’m not religious in the slightest, I actually know quite a few gospel songs. You probably do too. ‘Oh, Happy Day’, ‘I Go to the Rock’, ‘Your Love is My Love’ and a few others. No less than three songs were dedicated to Whitney too, rest her soul. This was the big finale. This lady had some pipes on her…

The whole thing is £49 per person (including juices and water, but not alcoholic drinks) and this time DQ and I were guests of Altitude. It might seem a little steep for brunch, but when you consider the entertainment value, the view and the fact that we were there for about 3 hours, it’s a steal.

Because of the spontaneity of the evening, we didn’t do much planning on where to go to eat. Bam-bou is very central, just north of Oxford Street in Fitzrovia. Walking by it as often as I do (my office isn’t too far), I’ve always remarked at how busy it always seems to be. It’s not super-cheap and doesn’t have a lot of the buzz so many of the restaurants – whether deserving or undeserving – in London have these days, but with the crowds even on random weekdays were a good sign.

The food is Vietnamese-French, which I consider to be less Asian-fusion (such a dirty word!) in the restaurant sense and more of a nod to a not-so-pleasant piece of history, since France ruled Vietnam as a colony until 1954.

But that’s not so much to the point. On to the food.

By far the best starter we had was the duck roll. Coming out of the kitchen  like little mini-burgers, the duck patty was almost flakey in texture, complemented perfectly with a fragrant plummy hoisin. Unfortunately we weren’t particularly impressed with the bland veggie summer rolls or the slightly too greasy calamari (though the spicy aioli served with the latter had a lot of pluck. I like that in a dipping sauce).

Mains across the table were made up of a combination of curries, pork skewers over vermicelli mostly reminiscent of bun cha and a lovely spiced duck with a salted plum sauce, which – despite having a similar description to our duck starter – couldn’t have been more different in preparation.

All of them were quite lovely too. The duck, though somewhat of a small portion for £15.50 (not including any sides or rice) was a bit steep, but expertly cooked. Loved it. The curry sauce was almost  intoxicating, and the pork beautifully tender.

Most of the time, restaurants with a melting pot approach to Asian food are a dime a dozen and rarely anything to shout about, but Bam-bou breaks the mould.

Here’s the evidence…

Crunchy tofu

All this for just £10/person and soooo much better than Chinatown

Yak dumplings

Proper Peking duck

Sweet tofu with edamame

Hot pot beef with dumpling and chilli

A yak feast in Tibet (lots and lots of yak - which wasn't really all that nice)

1. La Basque for pizza
2. Alex Plaice for fish and chips
3. The Haandi House for curry
4. Woody Grill for a messy kebab at 3am

I was ready to find somewhere to sit down, and the first place we tried was Arianna II, an Afghan restaurant on Kilburn High Road and an absolute gem of a place. Brilliant food, cheep and cheerful, and BYOB. Can you think of a better combination?

We started with the Kadoo Buranee, a wonderfully aromatic warm pumpkin dish perfect for a winter evening. Along side, we enjoyed some fresh hummous, pita and some piping hot  meat samosas, smacking of ground cumin and chili.

I was insanely excited for the Kabuli Palow, and it didn’t disappoint. The shank was so tender that as soon as I picked up the bone (see Exhibit A), the lamb literally slid off the bone. Served on top of a sort of pilau with carrots, raisins, almonds and pistachios, it was the perfect combination of savoury and sweet.

Exhibit A

DQ went with the slightly more boring, but all together tasty Chicken Kebab. It was surprisingly spicy, and certainly enjoyable, if not a little predictable. He’s a boy who likes his chicken though, so what can you do?

Dessert was Firnee and Afghan-style pistachio pudding with a consistency not unlike a flan. After this much food, it was a welcome, light and slightly sweet note to end the meal.

All this, plus BYOB meant that our bill came to £25.00. That’s in total. Not per head. Rock on, Arianna II. We’ll be back.

In no particular order, here are my most memorable, most delicious and most unique meals of 2011…

Kateh – Maida Vale
Although I’m no longer in Maida Vale, Kateh would be a reason to return. One of London’s only Persian restaurants, I still dream about the Koofteh Berenji starter of Persian meatballs I had. As an added bonus, it’s next door to the Windsor Castle pub – hands down the most delightful in a neighbourhood of over-priced drinking holes

The famous Meat Fruit from Dinner

Dinner by Heston Blumenthal – Knightsbridge
Heston’s first London outpost made many-a-list this year, and it’s no surprise why. Our entire meal from beginning to end was expertly crafted and executed. I can say with certainty that the ‘Meatfruit’ deserves the amount of praise it received, as did the rest of the menu.

Heron – Paddington
Heron has made a little bit of noise over the past couple months. Rarely am I the early adopter of food bloggers, but finding Heron almost by accident in October was a real treat. It is hands down the most authentic Thai experience you can have in London. The menu is all in Thai, the food will make your eyes water and the random karaoke will have you in a fit of giggles.

900g of lobster at Fjöruborðið

Fjöruborðið – Iceland
Lobster is the name of the game at this tiny seaside restaurant. About 40 minutes drive from Reykjavik, it’s worth the trip. You will leave stuffed and happy.

Arianna II – Kilburn
It’s a bit of a cheat, because I haven’t written this up yet, but Kilburn’s only Afghani restaurant is (so far) my favourite restaurant in my new neighbourhood . With cuisine somewhere between Moroccan and Middle Eastern, it was a cheap, cheerful and delicious.

I know that I’ve slowed on the blogging in general, but I fully intend to pick it back up in full force in 2012. I may not be the best food blogger or the most influential or even with the ‘in’ crowd, but that’s not what this is about for me. It’s a love of food and dining out that keeps me going – and I hope that I will continue with it for many years to come.

Thanks for reading :)

‘Hello! How are you?’ These are that questions you should say to every beer you drink.

If it doesn’t answer you back (in a manner of speaking), you’re not having Brew Dog.

Luckily, the six beers I tasted at BrewDog’s new bar in Camden were full of words. They wouldn’t shut up, to be honest. Considering, I’m not the biggest beer drinker, this was a good thing. However, I still brought along the boyfriend (nicknamed DQ for the purposes of this blog) to give his expert one-line, beer-loving opinion along with my totally amateur one.

1. Tokyo
   Me: This is the first beer I tasted, and it actually wasn’t part of the event, meaning that I had a half pint of an 18.5% beer that that tasted like a chocolate-covered cherry. Trust me, that gets a 5’3” girl tipsy in about 3 sips.
   DQ: A beer that tastes port. Yes.
2. Punk IPA
   Me: A bit strong, sort of citrusy. If you don’t like beer a whole lot, I would skip it
   DQ: Nice, tastes a bit weird, but I like it (Editor’s note: we were back at Brew Dog two nights later, and he had two pints, so I think ‘like it’ is a bit of an understatement)
3. 5am Saint
   Me: Almost like a bitter honeycomb. We’ve been told it’s been boiled for 90 minutes and hops are added after fermentation, sort of like brewing tea.
   DQ: I like this. Full of flavour.
4. Scotch Ale
   Me: It’s dark like the Tokyo, and I’m immediately disappointed that it’s not.
   DQ: It’s like coffee and beer had a love child (Editor’s note: can you tell we were a bit far gone by this point?)
5. Hard Core IPA
   Me: Yes, hardcore. Way too hardcore for me.
   DQ: Very hoppy, slightly acidic, overall pleasant
6. AB08
   Me: I can’t really taste anything at this point.
   DQ: Smells like a farmyard, but in a good way. It’s a combination of hay and manure, but tastes like coffee and honey

Beer isn’t the only thing at Brew Dog, though – and that’s where I come in. There is a very small menu devised by Masterchef winner Tim Anderson, which features a rolling menu of burgers, pizza and cheese plates.

During the tasting, we tried the Santa Ana pizza – a hot little tamale of corn, onions, chilli, spicy salami and crème fresh. If you’re sensitive to spice, it’s not for you. I loved it, though.

Later on and still hungry, we bought the Milwaukee burger (£6.95), and absolutely perfect blend of pork, sauerkraut and a sauce I can’t quite remember, that is surely a contender for best burger in London. It was amazing.

Actually, the whole place was so amazing that DQ and I found ourselves back there two nights later. I’ll be honest, I’m not the hugest fan of Camden, but Brew Dog is enough to sway me. I’ll be back in a heartbeat.