Date of Last Visit: Sunday, January 7, 2006

The Victims: Feathers, Julie, Kellie, Anna

The Damage: £37 each + £25 for the Secret Santa

The Background: It was  time for our Secret Santa. Feathers, the master organizer, had set us upon Elfster late last year, proving yet again that on the Internet, there’s a job for everyone. A Secret Santa Web site? Yes Virginia, it exists. The goal was to do a little gift arbitrage…we had to spend £25 each, and well, if you were smart, you’d spend it in the U.S. Like I did!

The Approach: First to arrive, I hung out at the bar and enjoyed a nice glass of Sauvignon Blanc. It was very light. It was so pure and clear looking it was almost like they had added water to it while I wasn’t looking. (I’m sure they didn’t. They look like nice people.) I also enjoyed the wallpaper, because Bumpkin has the coolest wallpaper I’ve ever seen. Especially in the loo. (Note that my tastes are not shared: read this (“too loud”), and this (“statement”), and this (“hideous”).

The Starter: While I was in the loo enjoying the wallpaper, they delivered a fantastic platter of bread and pork belly and apple chutney to our table. I was so happy. It was great.  The pork belly was like pork tuna fish (solid, not chunk lite) and I mean that in the best possible way; i am a huge tuna fish fan, but I am prevented from enjoying my passion by my mother who insists the mercury will kill us all. You know I love freebies of the edible variety–Yes, I know they’re not really free–so this went over well.

Tap Water Test: Passed! With lemon slices. I don’t think they were too happy about it, but they did it with a smile. A small smile. Julie still got in one bottle of sparkling, so we were redeemed.

The Mains: Let’s see–three roasts and Yorkshire puds, one lamb, and one spinach and mushroom pie. The lamb (Anna’s selection when faced with no chicken at 3 p.m.) looked very gourmet and well-presented from a distance, but piddly in comparison to the serving of beef. The spinach pie looked lovely, but the inside was full of soupy creamy stuff. It was just a little too soupy for me…Feathers liked it though, proving yet again that everyone likes what THEY like. The roasts–thoroughly enjoyable. Mine was nice and roasty on the outside, charred and delicious, as if it had been through many rubs. Best of all was the serving of family style potatoes, parsnips and carrots, and a green bok-choy like vegetable that I should probably know but I don’t.  Really really good. Loved it. Loved the potatoes best again. They were baked and then a little fried I’d guess. But just a little. Lovely.

The Verdict: I really liked Bumpkin. I liked the service (professional and friendly–good balance), I really liked the food (especially the freebie pork belly), and I dug the music, particularly at the end when they played Cat Power’s The Greatest, only my favorite CD these days. (Did they know I was there?) The only downer was that the crowd was very well-groomed, and I was (am) not.

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Date of Last Visit: Saturday, July 30th, 2005

The Victims: Rutton, Michael, Connie

The Damage: 25 GBP each?

Ah, Mexico. I have memories of big waves and drinks served in pineapples. In this country, I’d pay the same for my pineapple at Tesco’s as I would for my cocktail IN the pineapple in Mexico. But more than Mexico, I remember Chicago Mexican, where at 2 a.m. on a Friday and 3 a.m. on a Saturday, there’s a Burrito Joint on every corner, beckoning. How I love the fajita burrito–which I can only imagine is a Chicago invention. Rather than the minced meat of a burrito, the fajita burrito uses nicer cuts of meat and is OH SO delicioso.

I was SO very excited for the opening of Taqueria. I read about it in Time Out and thought, this is the place for me. I was not alone. We arrived and they don’t take bookings so we we weren’t the only ones waiting on the pavement. Finally, we were seated and immediately pleaded for margaritas. How I LOVE a margarita on the ROCKS (that’s ice, kids) with salt. Yummy. They arrived, and well, they were small, but I was okay with that. It had been a long time, after all. And nothing will ever compare to Uncle Julio’s Hacienda. (The swirls! My God, the swirls!)

We quickly pushed the rest of our order in. Skirt steak tacos. Corn on the cob. (Michael’s, mit Mayonaisse.) Avocado with lime juice. Refried beans! (I love refried beans, a much maligned dish. They are so delicioso.) It took a while. But service was very friendly and when they made a mistake, they were humble and fantastic and lively about it. Good stuff. Ruton asked where the chips and salsa were–bad Rutton!–but our waitress politely noted that that wasn’t authentic Mexican.

The corn on the cob was beautiful. I never knew I liked corn on the cob so much. The skirt steak tacos were perfect. The avocado was my absolute favorite. So wonderful. The only down side to everything was the crazy weird salad with russian dressing type thing that Rutton ordered. It looked like a salad with Russian dressing. Weird.

The Verdict: Cheap thrills. Expensive margaritas, but hey you have to make your margin somewhere. Delicious. Not very atmospheric, but delicious. Go here. And pray that this encourages burrito joints to be just as popular as kebab shops.

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The Victim: Michael

Date of Last Visit: August 14th

So it was a Saturday afternoon and I was wandering around High Street Kensington, hungry. I thought, "Hey, Michael lives around here." And I called him and he had me meet him at Notting Hill Gate for lunch

. We walked to the Ladbroke Arms and it was delightful–sunny, pretty, crowded but not too crowded. It was close to 3 pm, so the waitstaff was a bit rude and made us put our orders in immediately because the kitchen was going to close. So I had the monkfish and Michael got the crabcakes and cold tomato soup. He offered me some soup, but I think it’s weird to have other people’s soup, so I declined.

My monkfish was yummy, and my vegetables even more so. However, I’m going to knock off a few points for presentation and service–I kinda feel like my food was just thrown on the plate and then thrown down in front of me. They just weren’t very nice, you know? But all in all, a delightful afternoon.

The Verdict: Go. It’s good.

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Date of Last Visit: Sunday, June 27, 2004

The Victim: Steve, my friend Chris’ wife Julie’s friend from work.

So one Sunday, I wandered down Portobello Road in search of sustenance. Eventually, we happened upon the Electric Brasserie and we said, "Hey, that looks good." And it was.

Inside, it’s just very welcoming, with a bit of hotel bar feel to it. (But no actual bar where you sit by yourself eating nuts.)

There are lots of tables, and it’s ueber-crowded, but it’s a good mix of trendy types and "Hey, my parents are in town and I should take them for brunch" type people. (No babies, however.) Service was random–I feel like we were waited on by 20 different people, but it was still randomly friendly and happy, which is good.

We sat at a little table half-way between the front and the back and it was a bad spot because I could see straight into the REAL kitchen, not the fake-y show-y kitchen. But I was soon distracted by my seared tuna ceasar salad which was fantabulous. I loved it. Yummy, yummy.

Steve had a burger, and it looked delicious. The people next to us ordered roast beef and it looked very raw, but hey, different strokes for different folks. I don’t think the waiter ever asked Steve how he wanted his burger cooked; I found that strange too. But oh well.

I had three 1/2 pints of lager and they were good. Steve said his three (3) Vodka OJs were delicious and that the OJ was the best he ever had. So I think there were some points scored there.

The Verdict: Overall, I would highly recommend thus far. I think it’s a bit of a scene, but hey, that’s why we eat out. My food was super tasty and the service was friendly and the ladies’ room was nice enough (although NO TP!!!!). They did boast high quality bath products, which were super nice.

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