Restaurant review: Patty and Bun, Marylebone

After the downright success that was our visit to Honest Burgers last October, Katie and I have been eager to try another of the new burger joints that have been clogging the arteries of my Twitter feed recently. The burger revolution of London just keeps on rolling on, being taken to more and more extravagant levels. The trend of elevating simple fast food into something posh has fallen on the humble patty, and now you can pop out and indulge in lobster, Iberico ham or even a lump of foie gras as part of the experience. But for now I’m not bothered about all that gloss; it’s all about how a patty, bun and condiments alone can be elevated into something special. I must have forgotten the names of half of the new eateries that have opened, but the place that kept cropping up was Patty and Bun in Marylebone. 

There seems to be a formula with the modern trendy burger joint: find a small pipe of a shop in a busy area of town, cram it elbow-to-elbow with tables, turn the lights right down and hire someone to play music that was considered cheesy and awful at the time and is somehow now seen as edgy. Slap a long queuing time with that you’re there. Service will be fast and there will visibly be people eyeballing you for your table. But that said, when has eating a burger every been long and comfortable experience? They are the very essence of fast food (apart from those bloggers who might still be waiting for their burger to arrive at Meat Liquor, although I haven’t had the experience myself). 

And although to a certain extent Patty and Bun fits into this rhythm, I would urge you to overcome these factors for the sheer pleasure of the food that you are about to eat. It is almost torture having to queue outside for half an hour staring at the words ‘confit chicken wings’. The menu at Patty and Bun is minimal, but you want to eat every last word of it in one glutinous sitting. Once you have finished firing laser beams from your eyes at slow diners and a table becomes available, you just cannot order quickly enough.

One mouthful of burger and all the waiting and hanging around is forgotten. It was not a pretty burger to look at, it was the dirty variety that makes your stomach want to jump out of your mouth and grab it before your hands get the chance. Below the golden shiny bun gushed cheese and burger juices, and the perfectly seasoned patty cooked a perfect pink. All of this hype certainly stands, it is right up there with the best. 

But you have no time to grab for that extra napkin, as it’s time for those wings. They sounded amazing on the menu, but I was curious having never tried chicken cooked in that manner. My word. Beneath the crunchy spiced crust they just fell apart, and all I could do was fight Katie for who got that last one. They were good to the point that a shop selling them and only them would do very well indeed. They were truly memorable, and the taste that I now want every wing I ever eat in my life to match.

Likewise, the coleslaw was the finest I have eaten in a burger joint. Often they are a sad afterthought, badly dressed and seasoned. But like everything else at Patty and Bun, the attention to detail was evident. 

We finished with peanut choc ices, as you do. And they were exactly the right thing to eat after a dense main. Not too big, just enough to refresh you and leave you tasting something sweet. I hadn’t eaten a choc ice since I was about 12, but these ones conjured all of those memories back in a second. Mostly of those ones that had been carried in a bag on a warm day for far too long, and were a glorious dissolving mess when opened.

This was madness. I am a grown man, and the thought of sitting in a crammed room with disposable paper covering the table and the woman at your elbow swaying genuinely to Craig David would not be up there on my dining experiences wish list. But I cannot wait to go back. Unlike many places before, I still have the taste of that burger and those wings in my mouth, and not even the surroundings can deter my want. I would thoroughly, thoroughly recommend it. 

It is difficult to compare to Honest, as they both make really excellent burgers. I would happily take friends to either. But for overall experience, I still think that the former edges it. As fun as the Big Mac greaseproof wrap is on the surface, I still like to eat my burger on a plate, and the ambience is not quite so intense at Honest. Patty and Bun nailed the food though. It is only the difference of a few small deeply-rooted faults at either. Reviews of this nature do have a habit of making the writer an unnecessary pedant... 

But the search still goes on, and as the London burger wheel keeps on churning I am excited as to where my next burger will be.

Pan-fried duck breast with Pommes Anna, broccoli, braised radicchio and a pink peppercorn sauce

It feels so good to be blogging again after a couple of weeks! Sorry about the lack of recent posts, it’s been one of those months when I’ve been rushing around and just haven’t managed to make time for writing anything. Luckily I’ve still cooked a few things, and have also been to the excellent Patty and Bun for dinner, so I have a backlog of things to post about that will hopefully be completed over the next week or so. If I don’t get distracted by yet another bbq in the park again...

I’ve also been a bit undecided in my cooking, and a bit uninspired with what to cook. The worst thing about blogging is trying to think of new recipes to cook, getting enthusiastic about an idea, going out and spending lots of money on good ingredients and then when you cook it things just don’t click, or you find out the hard way that your idea wasn’t quite good enough. Luckily this doesn’t happen too often, and I’m generally happyish with the finished result. But a couple of weeks ago I had a disaster with a langoustine and john dory recipe. Everything seemed like it would be amazing in my head, but although the finished dish was tasty it just wasn’t a complete dish, and still needed a lot of work before it   could grace these pages. To make things worse, the photos of the finished ‘dish’ were pretty awful too, so a failure all round. Still, I will learn from it, but hopefully next time my mistakes won’t be so damn expensive! 

Thankfully everything came together fine on this occasion, and I actually have a finished recipe to share. This one is very safe, using tried and tested combinations that just taste good together. Duck with something sweet tasting, an irony vegetable and some garlicky potatoes is always a winner. The only things to be concerned about when cooking this are the timings. You want the duck to be a little bit pink (which in this instance mine was, just), the potatoes to the soft in the middle and the radicchio and broccoli to just have some bite. Most things can be prepared hours in advance too, so this is ideal if hosting for a number of people. 

A quick word on the Pommes Anna. To be honest I didn’t really know what these were up until a couple of months ago when I saw them on a Michel Roux Jr programme. They’re a bit like a gratin or other vegetable stack, but pretty and individual. The layers of duck fat, leek, garlic and thyme give the cooked potatoes a beautiful richness that goes perfectly with the rest of the dish. 

Serves 2

Ingredients: 

1 free range duck crown, trimmings reserved for the sauce

Salt and pepper

20g butter

For the Pommes Anna:

2 large floury potatoes such as maris piper

1 leek, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

10 sprigs thyme, leaves picked

30g butter

6 tbsp duck fat

Salt and pepper

For the braised radicchio:

1 medium radicchio, heart removed and leaves sliced finely

5 slices smoked pancetta, finely chopped

8 dates, stones removed and finely chopped

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

1 shallot, finely chopped

5 sprigs thyme, leaves picked

1 tbsp caster sugar

50g butter

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

For the sauce:

Trimmings and bones from the duck, as many as you can get. Excess fat removed.

1 shallot, finely chopped

1 leek, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, crushed

5 sprigs thyme

1 bay leaf

1 large glass white wine

500ml chicken stock

20g butter

1 tsp pink peppercorns

Salt and pepper

For the broccoli:

4 pieces of tender-stem broccoli, trimmed

20g butter

Salt and pepper

To finish:

Baby red sorrel leaves

Turn the oven to 190ºC Fan.

First make the Pommes Anna. Heat up a medium frying pan to a moderate temperature. Melt the butter, then add the chopped leeks, garlic and thyme. Season and cook gently for about 10 minutes, or until very tender. Take off the heat. Wash and peel the potatoes, then slice them vertically very thinly, so that they are almost translucent. Using a small round cutter, cut identical circles in these slices, discarding the edges or saving for bubble and squeak. Put a sheet of greaseproof paper onto a baking tray. Put one cylinder of potato on first, then spread a little duck fat on top. Spoon a little of the leek mixture on top of this and season well. Repeat this process until the stack is about 10 potato pieces high, then top with more duck fat, seasoning and a sprinkle of thyme. Repeat so that you have two stacks of potato. Spoon the rest of the duck fat around the potatoes on the baking sheet. Put in the oven for about 40 minutes, turning to temperature down to 160ºC half way through the cooking.

While the potatoes are in the oven make the sauce. Heat a large skillet to a high heat and add the olive oil. When hot, season the duck trimmings and bones and sear on all sides until very well browned. Add the leek, shallot, garlic and thyme and caramelise well. Pour in the white wine and allow to reduce by half, then add the bay leaf, stock and a little more seasoning and mix well. Reduce the liquid again until only about 175ml remains, about 25 minutes, then strain into a small saucepan. Set aside for finishing later. 

As the sauce is reducing, make the braised radicchio. Heat a large frying pan to a medium heat and add half of the butter and a splash of oil. When hot add the chopped pancetta and cook for 7-8 minutes until starting to crisp. Add the shallot, garlic, thyme and seasoning and cook for another 3-4 minutes until tender. Now add the dates and sugar and stir the mixture well. Cook for another couple of minutes then remove from the heat for finishing later. 

Cook the duck when the potatoes have about ten minutes left to cook (although the Pommes Anna can be left in a warm oven for a few minutes until ready). Dry the duck breasts well with kitchen paper then season all over. Place skin side down in a dry, cold, non-stick pan and set the heat to medium-high. Cook for 4-5 minutes on the skin side, until the fat is well rendered and crisp. At this point put the butter in the pan and turn the duck over. Cook for another 2-3 minutes, touching with your finger occasionally to judge the cooking like you would a steak. Baste the top of the duck with the fat as you go. When cooked, remove to a board to rest for 5-6 minutes. 

While the duck is resting finish the other elements off at the same time. 

Drain most of the fat from the duck pan, but don’t clean, then put straight back onto a medium heat with the butter and a splash of water for the broccoli. When melted add the trimmed broccoli and seasoning and cook for 3-4 minutes, tossing occasionally. 

To finish off the radicchio, heat up the bacon and date mixture with the other half of the butter. When hot add the sliced radicchio and stir to combine well. Taste and adjust the seasonings so that the right balance of sweet and salty is achieved. 

Reheat the sauce gently and add the pink peppercorns and the butter. Stir well to combine and be careful not to boil, you just want it to come to heat.

Carve your duck into 3 diagonal slices and you are ready to plate up. 

First position the potato stack to the plate, then add three tablespoons of the radicchio mixture. Place one slice of duck on each mound. Top with the broccoli and spoon over the sauce. Finally scatter over some of the baby sorrel leaves. 

Guinea fowl and smoked mozzarella ravioli with stuffed morels, crispy skin and pecorino

There’s nothing I enjoy more than having a few good friends over for some food and a few glasses of wine. I guess it’s a sign of growing old, and although I still love going out for the odd rager, I much prefer playing host. The thing I get the most out of cooking is the way that it makes people happy, and it’s so satisfying to give people you know a plate of food and watch the enjoyment that (hopefully) follows. Throwing dinner parties always brings about moments of stress and pressure, and I’m always running around getting ready at the last minute, but with a bit of planning you can minimise this as much as possible. All of this will be forgotten the second you finally sit down with everyone at the table and have a much needed drink. 

On this occasion we were hosting a lunch with Katie’s sister and her boyfriend. We had suggested a casual meal, with the possibility of making an easy quiche and some salads, keeping prep time to a minimum. At this we were quickly told that their expectations were a touch higher, and that something a little more impressive was required. This was all very tongue in cheek of course but the hint was taken, and I set about trying to think of a new menu. 

I wanted to make something that could be mostly prepared in advance, with only quick cooking needed at the end. Pasta is perfect for this, so I decided on a ravioli as the main dish for lunch. I had been inspired reading about Thomasina Mier’s Masterchef winning dish of chicken ravioli with foie gras, which looked and sounded terrific, and wanted to do something along those lines. I have also heard about guinea fowl being used in ravioli fillings recently, paired with burrata. So for my pasta I wanted to combine guinea fowl with a different cheese, smoked mozzarella. I have used this before a couple of times and love the smokey and creamy combination, and thought it would go really well with the chickeny taste of the meat. I have been messaging my excellent local cheese shop La Fromagerie a few times recently for a couple of other recipes, and I was thrilled to find that they could also source this ingredient for me. 

Mushrooms and poultry are a winning combination, but instead of having these merely as a garnish, I wanted to do something interesting here as well. I stumbled across some dried, ‘jumbo’ morels in the supermarket recently, and thought that they would be perfect for stuffing. I have heard that the dried variety aren’t a touch on fresh, but there is nowhere I could get them locally, and I would still be adding loads of flavour with the stuffing mixture. I like to try and use as much of a piece of meat as possible, and the braised legs of the guinea fowl provided the base for this along with some mushroom duxelle. The finished, stuffed mushrooms add a different taste and texture to the dish, whilst combining perfectly with the other flavours. 

The other parts of the dish such as making fresh chicken stock might seem like a massive faff but really are worth it to maximise the flavour. Aside from a few finishing touches, everything can be made in advance. The stock, morels, pasta dough and base for the sauce can be made the day before, and the mousse filling a good few hours, so when it comes to cooking it will only take a matter of minutes. Everyone was overjoyed with it on the day, and those hours of prep dissolved away.  

Serves 4

Ingredients:

For the pasta:

300g strong ’00’ pasta flour

3 medium eggs

1tbsp olive oil

Pinch of salt

1 egg for brushing

A scattering of cous cous

For the ravioli filling:

200g guinea fowl breast, skinned and trimmed of any sinew 

4 egg yolks

300ml double cream

2tbsp fresh thyme leaves, chopped

Nutmeg

Salt and pepper

100g Scamorze affumicate smoked mozzarella

For the stuffed morels:

12 large dried morel mushrooms

250ml girolle mushrooms, brushed clean and finely chopped

1 small shallot, finely chopped

2tbsp fresh thyme leaves, finely chopped

3tbsp flat leaf parsley, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, finely chopped

60g butter

Salt and pepper

2 guinea fowl legs

For the chicken stock:

12 chicken wings

3 carrots, roughly chopped

3 celery sticks, roughly chopped

3 medium onions, sliced

1 leek, roughly chopped

3 garlic cloves, sliced

10 sprigs of thyme

2 bay leaves

2 glasses dry white wine

3.5 litres of water

Salt and pepper

For the sauce:

The carcass from the guinea fowl

3 shallots, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

5 sprigs of thyme

1 bay leaf

50ml good brandy

1.5 litres of the chicken stock

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the crispy skin:

The skin from the guinea fowl, kept in one large piece

Salt

To finish:

50g pecorino cheese, finely grated

2tbsp fresh thyme leaves

Pepper

Portion the guinea fowl by removing the legs and wings. Before taking the breasts off, remove the skin from the crown in one large piece. Keep the carcass, and cut it into a few smaller pieces. 

Make the stock by heating a little oil in a large, heavy bottomed saucepan. When the pan is hot season the chicken wings, then cook in batches, letting then colour really well. Remove to a plate. At this point also brown tall sides of the guinea fowl legs and again set aside. Add the carrots, onions, leek, celery, garlic and thyme to the empty pan and saute until caramelised, scraping up all of the crust from the bottom of the pan. Pour in the white wine and allow to bubble and reduce by half, then add the chicken wings back to the pan with the bay leaves. Add the water, season well and bring to the boil before turning down to a simmer. 

At this point put the browned guinea fowl legs back into the stock and poach for an hour and a half, or until the meat falls away from the bone. Carefully remove to a bowl and cover with some of the stock and allow to cool. Once cool, strip all of the meat from the bones and break into very small pieces. Put into a bowl and set aside. Return the liquid and used bones back to the stock. 

Keep reducing the stock for a good few hours until about 1.5 litres remain, then strain well into a large bowl. Taste and season if needed, it should have a good chicken flavour and brown colour. Allow the stock to cool then refrigerate if not using straight away. It will keep in the fridge for a couple of days.

While the stock is reducing soak the morel mushrooms. Rinse a couple of times under the tap to remove any grit, then place in a bowl and cover with boiling water. Allow to soak for about 30 minutes then strain, keeping the liquid. Although it isn’t needed for this recipe, it is great added to risottos or soups.

While waiting for the mushrooms to soak, make the mushroom duxelle that will form the other part of the morel stuffing. Heat up a large frying pan to a medium heat and add half of the butter (about 30g). When melted sweat off the shallot, garlic and thyme for a couple of minutes until tender. Now add the finely chopped girolle mushrooms and season. Cook until all of the moisture has evaporated and you are left with a mixture that resembles a coarse pate. Stir the parsley through and season if needed. Mix the duxelle with the shredded guinea fowl until well combined. 

Carefully squeeze the water out of the morels and pat dry with kitchen paper. Stuff the mushrooms with the guinea fowl leg and mushroom mixture, compacting gently with the end of a teaspoon. Be careful not to tear or make any holes that will cause leakages later. Fill all 12 mushrooms, then put on a plate and set aside. 

To make the pasta dough, add the flour, eggs, oil and salt to a food processor and blitz until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Tip out onto a clean surface and knead well with your hands for around 10 minutes, or until the dough is smooth and has an elastic texture. Wrap with cling film and allow to rest in the fridge for at least half an hour, or overnight if making in advance. 

As the pasta dough is resting make the guinea fowl mousse filling. Put the skinned guinea fowl breasts into a food processor and blitz to a fine paste. Scrape the mixture through a sieve and into a bowl, then add the egg yolks and beat together well. Cover the bowl and put in the fridge for 15 minutes. When rested, tip into a large bowl with the cream, thyme, a few gratings of nutmeg and a good amount of seasoning. Beat together until thick and combined. Bring some water to a simmer in a small saucepan and when hot, add a teaspoon of the mousse mixture. Poach for a couple of minutes, then carefully remove and taste. Adjust the salt, pepper, nutmeg or thyme to the main bowl as needed. Cover and refrigerate the rest of the mixture until needed to fill the pasta. 

Remove the skin from the smoked mozzarella and cut into small, half-centimetre pieces. 

Scatter flour over a large, clean surface. Using a pasta machine, roll the pasta dough through each thickness setting until it is the thinnest it can be, then cut in half. On one sheet, carefully place 1 teaspoon of the mousse mixture every 3-4 inches along. Put a few pieces of the smoked mozzarella on top of each, then brush around the filling with the beaten egg. Quickly cut the other sheet of pasta into squares big enough to cover each filling and with an inch or so around the edges. Carefully cover the filling, gently pushing around it with your fingers to seal and remove any air bubbles. Trim each ravioli parcel with a sharp knife to form a neat square. Line a plate with greaseproof paper and scatter a good amount of cous cous on top. Carefully place the finished ravioli on top. If not using straight away, loosely cover with more paper and clingfilm and put in the fridge. The cous cous is used instead of flour as it will not stick to the ravioli whilst cooking, and will simply fall to the bottom of the pan instead. 

Turn the oven to 180ºC. 

To make the sauce, heat up a large frying pan or skillet to a medium-hot heat. Add a little olive oil. When hot, season the wings and carcass from the guinea fowl and cook until all sides are well coloured. Lower the heat slightly and add the garlic, shallot and thyme and continue to cook until caramelised. Pour in the brandy and deglaze, allowing to bubble and reduce a little. Add the bay leaf and the reserved chicken stock and bring to the boil. Reduce down until the consistency changes and the sauce is much thicker; about 300-400ml should remain. This reduction process should take about 20-30 minutes. Taste and season if needed, then strain into a smaller saucepan and cover for finishing later. 

While the sauce is reducing, make the crispy guinea fowl skin. Line a shallow baking tray with greaseproof paper and stretch out the reserved skin on top. Salt well and cover with another layer of paper and another baking tray. Put in the heated oven and cook for about 15 minutes, or until very crisp. Remove and drain on kitchen paper. Allow to cool, then cut into small shards. Set aside. 

Fill a large saucepan with well salted water and bring to a rolling boil. Put 4 plates in the oven to heat up. Take the stuffed mushrooms out of the fridge to get to room temperature. 

When the water is nearly boiled, heat up a medium frying pan and add 30g of butter. When  at a medium heat, add the stuffed morels and 2 tbsp of the sauce to the pan and cook gently for 5-8 minutes, turning occasionally. 

Carefully lower the pasta into the boiling water and cook for 3-4 minutes, or until the pasta is soft but still a little al-dente. 

While the pasta is cooking, gently reheat the rest of the sauce, adding the 30g of butter and stirring well to emulsify. 

To plate up, place three pieces of the cooked ravioli onto each heated plate. Position three of the stuffed morels in between, then spoon over a couple of tablespoons of sauce. Sprinkle over the thyme, pepper, pecorino and guinea fowl skin and serve.

Lamb’s neck fillet with gnudi, fresh peas and olive crumb

After writing reviews for the last couple of posts, it feels good to finally have got some cooking done again. Although I love having chilled out days off, I also love filling them experimenting with new things. Over the past few weeks I have been really getting into Italian cooking, having watched Simon Hopkinson and Theo Randall on the television and bought the River Cafe cookbooks. I just love the attitude to food that this type of cooking has, where it’s all about the flavours and quality of ingredients. Some of my best food memories are tucking into a bowl of pasta or a big rustic salad, so I’m excited to discover more!

It was whilst watching Simon Hopkinson that I found out about gnudi. These are small ricotta dumplings that are gently poached to form little hot cheesy domes. What more could you want! I was desperate to try these out, and thought that they would work perfectly in this dish. Ricotta is naturally quite a bland cheese that needs flavouring, and it balances the strong olive crumb and lamb sauce in this dish with it’s lightness. Although you have to make them the day before cooking, they only take 10 minutes and are really easy. They would be perfect for making in bulk when cooking for numbers, and only need minutes to finish on the day. I will definitely be trying out other recipes with them in the future. 

With Italian cooking in particular, the food is mostly really simple, placing emphasis on choosing the best quality ingredients possible. With things like mozzarella, olive oils and in this case, ricotta, there is a stark difference in taste from the cheap produce found in the supermarkets to what you can get from specialist shops and delis. To source my ricotta I went to my local cheese mecca, La Fromagerie in Highbury. I rarely need an excuse to visit and smell that intense waft as you walk through the door, and on this occasion they failed to disappoint. I got home with a ricotta with much better flavour, and important to this recipe, texture. The stuff you find in supermarkets seem to be on the wetter side, which will make it much more difficult when rolling the gnudi. 

Lamb neck fillet might not be top of everyone’s list when thinking of cuts to use, but it packs a lovely flavour and is quite reasonably priced. Ignore the slow cooking advice given on the internet and cook it quickly for a pink centre, which will give tender and succulent results. As is important with cooking most meats, allow time to rest properly. This will also give you time to finish all of the other elements to the dish before plating up. When buying the meat, ask your butcher for any lamb bones and trim. They will make your sauce so much better and won’t cost very much.

The use of charlock flowers might seem a bit weird or unnecessary, but they add to the dish both visually and with their subtle, mustardy taste. I came across them by accident at the Stoke Newington farmers market at the weekend, but if you can’t get hold of them then peashoots alone will be fine.

Serves 2

Ingredients:

For the lamb:

2 lamb’s neck fillets, excess fat removed

1 tbsp olive oil

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the gnudi:

200g good ricotta

30g parmesan, finely grated

2 tbsp fresh mint leaves, finely chopped

2 tbsp fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped

1/2 lemon, zest only

Salt and pepper

Semolina, for dusting

For the sauce:

200g-300g lamb bones and trim, cut into small pieces

2 shallots, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, peeled but kept whole

10 sprigs thyme

1 large glass dry white wine

500g lamb stock

30g butter

Salt and pepper

Olive oil

For the olives:

100g good black olives, stones removed

For the peas:

2 handfuls fresh peas, podded and shelled

30g butter

Salt and pepper

For the crispy mint leaves:

12 mint leaves

4 tbsp vegetable oil

To garnish:

Peashoots

Extra virgin olive oil

Charlock flowers

Make the gnudi 24 hours before needed. Mix the ricotta with the parmesan, herbs and lemon zest in a bowl and taste. Add seasoning if needed. Pour a good layer of semolina into a shallow tray. Carefully roll small balls out of the ricotta mixture that are slightly larger than a raspberry, then place them in the tray and dust with the semolina. Repeat until the mixture is rolled, then cover and put in the fridge. 

Also cook the olives in advance. Set to oven to 80ºC and scatter the pitted olives on a greaseproof lined oven tray. Put in the oven for 8-10 hours, or until dried through. When ready, blitz in a food processor until a fine crumb. Set aside until needed. 

To make the sauce, take the bones and trim out of the fridge and allow to come to room temperature. Heat up a large skillet pan to a hot temperature and add a little oil. Season the bones and sear all sides until very well browned. Turn the pan down slightly and add the shallot, garlic and thyme and fry again until coloured. Turn the heat back up and add the white wine, and allow to bubble and reduce by half. Pour in the lamb stock and slowly reduce until the sauce is thickened and about 150ml is left. Strain through a fine sieve into a small saucepan, cover and set aside for finishing later.

While the sauce is cooking, pod and shell the peas.

Heat up a small pan with the vegetable oil for the mint leaves. When hot, quickly fry the mint leaves for about 30 seconds, turning occasionally, then remove carefully and drain on kitchen paper. Set aside until later. 

Take the lamb out of the fridge to come to room temperature.

Fill a medium saucepan with well salted water and bring to the boil. When it is nearly boiling, heat up a dry large non-stick pan to a high heat for the lamb.

To cook the lamb, season on all sides and rub well with oil. When the pan is hot place the lamb in the pan and cook quickly on all sides until well browned. When the lamb is coloured, add the butter to the pan and baste. Carefully control the temperature of the pan to not burn the lamb, and keep touching the meat to tell how well it is cooked as you would when cooking steak. After about 5 minutes the lamb should be cooked, remove from the pan onto a board and allow to rest for another 5 minutes. Once rested, slice into thin rounds.

While the lamb is resting gently reheat the sauce and stir in the butter. Taste and season if needed. 

At the same time cook the gnudi in the boiling water. Carefully shake off any excess semolina and drop into the pan. Turn the heat down to a gentler boil and poach for 4-5 minutes, until they float to the surface. Remove with a slotted spoon onto a warm plate and keep warm until you plate up. 

Also cook the peas. Add the butter to the same pan as the lamb was cooked in with 2 tbsp water. When melted pour in the peas and cook for a minute or two on a medium heat until tender. 

Dress the peashoots in a small bowl with a little extra virgin olive oil. 

To plate up, arrange slices of the lamb onto the plate and put the gnudi amongst them. Spoon over some of the peas and them a good amount of sauce. Place the mint leaves, peashoots and charlock flowers around the edge of the meat and sprinkle over a good pinch of the olive crumb.

Restaurant review: The Social Eating House, Soho

Lunch service can be the best way to sample the food at top restaurants without having to pay an arm and a leg. Set menus sometimes have the reputation of dragging up the scrag ends of the kitchen, but in the better restaurants you can get amazing value for money. This was recently highlighted by seasoned blogger The Critical Couple, who compiled a review of seven places offering special lunch deals. It showed a mixed bag of results, but by far the restaurant that jumped out at me was The Social Eating House. This is Jason Atherton’s new venture in Soho after rave reviews for the Pollen Street Social and Little Social in Mayfair. I have long been a fan of Atherton’s cooking and attitude to food, but the really striking thing was the value for money. I needed little encouragement as it was, but at £21.00 for three courses it looked an absolute bargain. You could spend more than that in Cafe Rouge. Venue set, and a Saturday lunch date was booked. 

The day of the lunch was one of those sultry dreamy types just perfect for strolling around in town. Soho was crammed and buzzy with tourists, and the seediness had a few hours left before leaking out. The name Social Eating House implied an informality, yet we still didn’t quite know what to expect. The restaurant was about half full yet the small space still had a bustle about it and was welcoming, and interesting with the mirrored ceiling modern distressed walls. What was also noticeable was the total cross-section of diners. They were all there; Made In Chelsea in one corner, lad’s lunch over there, poshy date on the next table and the obligatory couple who hate each other at the end. She spent the whole meal on the phone. The man with the backwards cap and sunglasses meant that any notion of being underdressed was quickly dispelled.

Our waiter was kind, despite us feeling apprehensive about being the cheapskates ordering the set lunch and tap water. As is often the case, a glass of prosecco in and the nerves set to relax. Set menus in their very nature don’t offer much choice, but despite the few options it took some time to decide on our order. None of the items were what we would normally pick, with ox tongue, stone bass and lamb breast all billed. But I feel like these kind of restaurants are the places to jump out of comfort zones and try something new, so was excited to educate my palate. 

Jay Rayner and The Critical Couple both recommended the starting jars, in particular the salt cod brandade with parsley sauce and thick salt and vinegar crisps. The jar was just that, a jar, and in it again something I never tried before. But after a scoop of the smooth fish and herb sauce we were instant converts. The flavours were balanced perfectly, with the subtle cod standing up to the garnishes. There was just enough too, leaving a lovely taste yet enough room with three more courses to go. 

A beautiful plate of tongue. A sentence that I never thought I would write, yet what was put in front of me was just that. A thin slither topped with delicate pickled mushrooms, crouton and a sticky onion puree danced together and was visually stunning. Despite this I still managed to have food envy, as Katie’s starter was incredible. Pea, mint and ham soup - a trip back to the 80’s surely? Not in this case. A delicately poached hens egg sat daintily in the bottom of the bowl, surrounded by crushed peas and topped with shards of brittle, salty ham. The silky yet intense pea veloute was poured around and was just spectacular. This was no thick and clumsy soup, it was delicate, each taste pinging in your mouth. That one little bowl will remain in our minds for quite some time, and will always trump my homemade favourite.

The mains had a lot to live up to. Again my stone bass was stunning, and possibly the best way that I have seen cous cous presented. It was a true summer lunch dish; perfectly cooked fish, ripe tomatoes and pepper. It didn’t make the world move as much as the starters, but was delicious. Katie’s lamb breast with nicoise garnish fell apart at the mere suggestion of a fork and was rich and flavoursome. It is such an underrated cut of meat and certainly inspired me to give it a go at home. Two courses, and the best part of a bottle of prosecco down and we were (drunk) happy bunnies.

The dessert options caused me a few issues. I have a complicated nut allergy, meaning that some nuts are fine, but others are not so good. In the past I have been rather blase about it, but after a slight scare following my meal at Polpo the week before I thought it best to ask our waiter. In describing my needs I managed to confuse the poor man, but eventually it was determined that none of the options on the set menu were suitable. Instead I was kindly offered to select one from the a la carte menu, which I was extremely grateful for. That said, I was also jealous at the sound of Katie’s coconut and chocolate dessert which sounded divine. 

It looked it too, quenelles of sorbet, aerated chocolate and a translucent tuile were swiftly demolished without the slightest taste from me. However, this time it was my turn to be dealt the memorable dish. My jar, yes another jar, of homemade yoghurt topped with strawberries cooked a number of different ways was frankly incredible. Granita, sorbet, poached and jellied all gave a different sensation. The sheer amount of strawberry flavour that the chef had managed to extract was ridiculous. I’m not normally a dessert person, but I would happily eat that again and again, and would return just for that. 

The table next to us had managed to consume an impressive amount of cocktails during their meal, each one housed in a different ornate or intriguing glass. So we though it rude to not have one before our departure. The drinks menu had fun, if not slightly cringe-worthy names, and it felt slightly embarrassing to ask for two ‘dill or no dills’, but they lived up to their appearance and were seriously good. Often cocktails can seem too sharp or alcohol heavy, but these were a joy to drink. 

We stumbled out into the busy hazy Soho Streets with that funny amazement that you get when leaving the cinema and discovering that it is still light outside. But we were also amazed at the food we had just eaten, especially considering the value. The skill of the chef is to use humble ingredients and make them sing, and this had been a masterclass. Simple pea soup, old-fashioned tongue and forgotten pieces of lamb all the polar opposite. Certainly another astounding success in the making for the Jason Atherton team, and I look forward to visiting his other restaurants for food that good.

Restaurant review: Polpo, Covent Garden

Since moving to London I have often asked for recommendations on places to go when in town, and Polpo has always come out near the top. So when planning my dad’s birthday recently with my sister, as soon as dinner there was mentioned we knew we were onto a winner. Dad always gets given cookbooks, but he was particularly pleased when he unwrapped the Polpo one at Christmas. Brimming with beautiful plates of Venetian tapas I had full on book envy, and knew that he would love the real thing as a birthday treat. 

Over the past few years the Polpo empire has expanded with a number of sites in central London, and has become a true dining institution. You cannot look at Twitter for five minutes without someone raving about. Like many of the trendy new ventures in town, Polpo operates a no-booking policy, and I was wary as to whether five of us would be sat at all. Would we end up in sad looking chain full of disappointment. This wasn’t a million miles away. Greeted by a large queue and long wait at the Soho branch, my heart sank. However, I was quickly informed that the next, and bigger branch was just a short hop away in Covent Garden, so we set off with haste. Often in these situations you feel like every other member of the public is heading to the same place, and this was no different as I set about racing shoppers and barging small children to try and avert a repeat performance. 

There was another queue. Of course there was. But there was also a pub opposite, and a 45 minute wait over a pint didn’t seem like the worst option. Even after the brief doorway impressions I was excited; the dimly lit, beautifully rustic room was heaving, and carried a buzz radiating off every table. The menu reflected this, the sort where you could easily order every item. I couldn’t wait to get in. 

Prosecco, arancini, scallops and peas, the dishes were empty moments after getting to the table. Light, delicate and bursting with flavour. Dad’s a good cook, and every meal gets the critique to the standard of his home fare, but here him and mum were relaxed, happy, overwhelmed. Food, drink and service flowed in harmony as we recalled stories of Venice holidays, fish markets and ripe tomatoes. Beautifully refreshing mozzarella with new season broad beans and perfectly crisp light fritto misto followed, and were downed with as much gusto. 

Tapas is a funny thing. Some love the mouthful of everything that you get, whilst I am in the opposite camp. I am the Chinese takeaway stick in the mud. I like my choice and will pick something that I want to eat. All of it. So I was hesitant at the thought of five of us sitting round scrimping from the small plates. I was surprised. Despite the numbers, each plate provided a good amount, even room for second helpings. My sister is a vegetarian, but unlike the lazy afterthoughts seen at other restaurants her choices were fought over. The simple sounding spinach, parmesan and soft egg pizzette was one of the tastiest things I have eaten in a while, packing a real depth of flavour from such humble ingredients. 

The big guns emerged in the third round, charred soft lamb and spiked caponata and the real star calves liver. I never order liver, but something swung me that evening and it was just amazing. Tender, deep and unctuous. Just delicious. I was a convert, and vowed to get blogging with some recipes of my own. 

There was just room for a couple of desserts, a fragrant moist almond cake and a dinky cup of foamy tirimisu. We were plump, rosy cheeked and satisfied. 

AA Gill wrote last year about the emergence of restaurants serving food that 30 years ago would have been cooked at home. He said this disparagingly, but I think that this can be a celebration in some scenarios. At Polpo the food was great. It didn’t blow me away with technique or new flavours, it just tasted really good. The rustic presentation and setting gave the meal that homely family gathering feel, and in this situation it was perfect. I would rather this than sitting in a mindnumbingly dated Michelin hotel restaurant any day. 

There was one thing that I hated though, and it wasn’t the food. It was the music. I understand that it’s trendy and young, but I never want to be having a lovely meal to suddenly hear Catatonia booming from the walls. Justin Timberlake followed. It just threw me. Where did this all fit in with authentic Venetian food and an intimate atmosphere. This all got gently louder towards the end, and just didn’t really have a place. If the cleaners were rearing to get going and wanted to clear the place then I applaud the tactics. 

But that was all. If you are into dodgy 90s music and good food then this will be heaven. If you are into good food then this will be heaven. Just hum loudly.