Da Mario- a neighbourhood find

Good neighbourhood restaurants aren't easy to find at the best of times. In Central London, its a bloody nightmare. In Covent Garden I assumed it wouldn't be possible. Surprisingly, I found one.  Da Mario is an unassuming little place, from the outside and from the inside, but with an almost perfect Urbanspoon rating, it seemed to be worth a shot. 

St Moritz - Where a fondue is a fondue

Last Tuesday, The Boyfriend and I, attempted to go to MeatLiquor, only to find out they had run out of hamburgers. How this happens in a restaurant dedicated to burgers, I'm not sure. Disappointed, freezing and starving, we headed to Soho, hoping to head to one of the many great reservation-less restaurants. Instead of heading to our usual haunts (Princi, Barrafina, Polpetto etc.) we ended up at St. Moritz, a place I'd wandered past at least a dozen or so times and always been intrigued by . It turned out to be the solution to all our problems that night. For just over an hour we left London and ended up in Switzerland, in a kitsch, rustic chalet. Everything, seemed authentically swiss including the music, but thankfully not the wine.

MeatLiquor

I'm not very good at queuing for food and I'm definitely not very good at waiting for an hour for food once I'm seated. Normally, this would make me hate the restaurant involved, angry at the staff, tearful inside the restaurant and bitter leaving it, and yet, I left MEATliquor happy. Fatter but happy.

Providores - Brunch

The Brunch Buddy and I were on a hunt for the best breakfast in London, and over a two month period we visited a significant number of places. We started the experience with Providores. Having visited Kopapa a couple of months earlier and having loved it, I assumed the original Peter Gordon restaurant was to be just as satisfying. In terms of food it was. Providores is situated on Marylebone high street, and divided, as is so fashionable these days, into two parts - the downstairs being more casual and accepting no bookings and the upstairs being a slightly more formal dining room. The Brunch Buddy and I sat upstairs being too lazy and lacking the mental capacity too queue.

The Breakfast Club

The Breakfast Club has been on my “to-eat” list forever - they have four branches, the Soho one not too far away, but always I’ve been put off by the lack of reservations and the threat of the queue. Okay temperature, sunshine, and only a slight hangover made it a feasible option for The Brunch Buddy and I. When we arrived at 11am, the queue outside was already snaking up the street, and we waited about 15 minutes before grabbing a table outside next to the ever growing queue. 

Nizuni

22 Charlotte Street is  an unfortunate address for a sushi restaurant, opposite Roka, the constantly packed and incredibly scene Japanese restaurant. It's a bit like being a normal person forced to stand next to a supermodel in a group picture. In this case the normal person was actually rather good-looking. 

Vapiano - Italian food organized by Germans

It is a dream combination. Italian food, created in an incredibly efficient way. This is what Vapiano is all about. There is no messing about wasting time trying to work out who pays what, as every person is given a card, that they then "charge" food and drinks to at a selection of various stations. Your food is made to order at one of each station whilst you watch (pasta, antipasti), or just collect them (dessert or drinks), or order and get a buzzer (Pizza). It works out perfectly. Each person gets what they want, charged to them and can edit their dish to their particular liking - no basil, no issue, no garlic, no problem. Even better, you can get it to go (their pasta makes a very good breakfast), and their takeaway boxes are perfectly lunch sized Tupperware. In fact, this is possibly one of my favourite casual places to go. It is great place to meet up with old friends, as the lack of service means no-one really cares if you sit there for four hours, as I did last Tuesday.

Canteen Covent Garden

Harrods,  nine "amazing" courses prepared by Thomas Keller, the six-michelin starred chef, widely regarded as the best in the world, for an impressive £250 a head. For many, that was the highlight of the year. For a ten day period London's foodies, and I'm sure the odd banker or two, enjoyed what many described as a once in life time experience. This was the pop-up to end all pop-ups. On the other side of town, The Boyfriend and I dined at a slightly less glamourous pop-up, in the oh-so exclusive Covent Garden, where we ate one course, at a cost of a £18 a head. Yes, The Boyfriend and I we were some of the hundreds of other people who called a little too late and thus will we be sentenced to dream about the meal we missed until the fanfare dies down. Given the reviews I'm not optimistic that this will be soon 

Nordic Bakery

Soho, cinnamon buns, coffee, cakes and a whole host of other wonderful things.

Princi - The Happiest Place on Earth

There is one over riding factor that puts me off visiting a restaurant - a lack of information. Apparently, this is cool at the moment  and seems to be a common  theme with new restaurants, I blame Nuno Mendes and Russel Norman. As a control freak, I hate this. A normal trip to a restaurant is incrediby well researched - I tend to know everything about the place before I show up - I know what I am going to eat, what the place looks like, and roughly how much the experience will cost me.

Cox, Cookies & Cakes vs. Hummingbird - A Tale of Two Cupcakes

The corner of Brewer Street and Wardour Street in Soho is a great place to be standing, as both streets have a fabulous cupcake shop. The question is which street to take? One afternoon, The Boyfriend and I decided to taste test. One Vanilla Cupcake (Cox,Cookies and Cake) and one Toffee Apple Cupcake (Hummingbird). Sitting on a step on a random street in Soho we compiled the following list of merits: 

Meatballs - A Reason to Roll to Farringdon

Okay, so I'm either prophetic, a trendsetter, or just damn lucky. About 2 months ago, following my trip to Istanbul, I wrote a post/ song of praise/ love poem/ letter to God/ alcohol fuellled rant extolling the many virtues of the meatballs as a vehicle for serving meat that can be read here.

Istanbul (2) - Sultanahmet Koftecisi

Our second day in Istanbul involved a trip to the Grand Bazaar. After two hours of wandering around in circles looking at thousands of almost identical scarves, bags, bowls and packets of Turkish tea, The Boyfriend was close to abandoning me alone in the middle of the thing. The final straw came after a ten minute discussion with a store owner about two very similar bracelets, The Boyfriend let out a howl of frustration and it was time to leave. Walking quickly we left the Bazaar, and headed down the main street in Sultanahmet. This was a probably a good thing - my arms were starting to strain under the weight of new purchases as I knew my suitcase would in three days, but hey, at least my wallet was lighter.

 We were headed for Sultanahmet Koftecisi - a 90 year old restaurant specializing in Turkish meatballs. Despite its location in the heat of tourist Istanbul, proximate to the Blue mosque, Hagia Sophia and the Cisterna, this was by no means a tourist trap. Reassuringly, there were mainly locals, and a distinct lack of catering for English speakers.

da Polpo

The Boyfriend's move to Covent Garden three months ago was easily the best decision ever. Not only do we have Opera Tavern, my new favourite place, Machiavelli and Laduree but now we have da Polpo, yet another Russell Norman restaurant. 

Machiavelli

Machiavelli just changed my life. No, I didn't just read the Prince and created a plan to take over the world. Rather I just visited for the second time the new Italian/Deli/Takeaway/Store-Selling-Random-Italian-Things-Like-Mugs-and-Cheese place thats moved into Covent Garden called Machiavelli.

Bodeans -

Often The Boyfriend goes to the office on Sunday mornings. Often The Boyfriend leaves his apartment devoid of any food. Often The Boyfriend loses his spare set of keys and sometimes, he accidentally locks the door as he leaves. This sometimes leaves, me starving stuck inside the apartment, with only juice or tea to provide calories. This is what happened on Sunday.

Kopapa - Brunch

The Boyfriend and I have been trying to go to Kopapa for brunch for ages. Sleep deprivation and hangovers have prevented us on at least three occasions. So it was a happy day when we finally managed to make it.

Spuntino

They Boyfriend and I are polar opposites. I like to organise, plan and book things in advance. The thought of a weekend without a reservation somewhere is a stressful thought. To be fair, this isn't entirely my fault, but restaurants in London seem to be booked so far in advance it is only logical to book restaurants for the next three months. The Boyfriend on the other hand, like so many males, doesn't like to organise, plan or book things in advance. He is a more spontaneous, happy-go-lucky kinda guy and before we started dating there were only two restaurants he knew in London - Sophie's and Barrafina (both reservation less).

Tom's Kitchen at Somerset House (2) - Brunch

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a person in possession of a large hangover, must be in want of a brunch. Tom's Kitchen at Somerset House serves a wonderful brunch for the hungover. 

There are several great things about Tom's Kitchen for brunch.

Busaba Eathai -

Busaba Eathai has three locations, and so has not yet reached the Wagamama style domination I'm sure Alan Yau, the owner of both, has planned. I am a Wagamama fan and was curious about this place after hearing such good things. So The Sibling, The Leftie and  I headed out one evening.