I have an idea for restaurants everywhere. Maybe, just maybe, you should do some analysis. How long does your average party of two take up a table? Your average party of four? Your tables that make reservations? Your tables that don’t make reservations? If you do this type of analysis, you will avoid treating your customers poorly.

Like Chick ‘n’ Sours did to me when I popped in at 12:20 pm on a Sunday, hoping for a quick lunch. I knew I’d be in and out in 45 minutes. I know myself well. I don’t know if you can believe this, but I’ve been feeding myself for over 40 years! Unless there was a problem in the kitchen — the restaurant’s fault, not  mine — I would be quick. Very quick.

So I walked in off the street and asked for a table at a restaurant that doesn’t really seem like the type of place where you need a booking. I was led downstairs to an empty dining room. I lie. There were maybe two tables seated and it’s a pretty small dining room so it wasn’t empty. The host asked me “Where would you like to sit?”

“Well,” I responded, if you’re not too busy, I’d love a table.” (I prefer not to perch.)

Immediately, she responded. “Well…I don’t know…we have a lot of bookings today…I’ll have to check.”

Restaurants everywhere, don’t ask the question if it’s a false choice. And don’t make a big deal about this if your restaurant is still going to be half empty an hour later when I leave. (And for the record, I’d be the first person to take the bar if the restaurant were full.)

Why do restaurants prefer mysterious unknown **future** business over mysterious unknown business sitting **right in front of them**? Money, I know.  But if they did the analysis I suggest, they would not freak out about these situations. I imagine a world in which they instead think, “Ah party of one. She’ll be done in 45 minutes. We’re usually pretty quiet between 12 and 1 pm. We’ll be fine.” I’ll chalk this one up to inexperience and move on.

I liked my fried chicken at Chick ‘n’ Sours (unphotogenic as it was) although maybe the xian xian spice was a little too subtle. I also REALLY liked my fried aubergine.  And the wall of print blocks from an old printer in Manchester on the wall. And the light fixtures. Hipster central! And the music! I really liked the fun music.

The Verdict: Go, but make a booking and sit where they tell you to if you want to maximize their utility and forget about your own. Even when they are empty.

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Bread plate

"Italian Nachos"

Bruschetta caponata

Dining room

Sausage pappardelle

Proof of the "Italian Nachos"

FRITTO MISTO

Carbonara

The new sightly unemployed Krista is the “Say Yes Krista.” Yes, after years of saying NO, I’m saying Yes. Because someone has to. And I’d rather it be me then some of the crazies. (Sorry, crazies.) So when Jamie’s Italian offered me a £50 voucher to eat at one of their restaurants, I said YES and invited the infamous Wine Sleuth along with me to check out Jamie’s Italian Covent Garden.

And you know what? We had a great time. The atmosphere was lively! The food was enjoyable! The wine was in abundance! And even better, our server, Carlos, was pretty much the nicest, best server I’ve ever had in London. When he told us that he helped train new staff in new restaurants, I totally got it. If I ran Jamie’s Italian, I’d want Carlos to train all my staff too. Thank you, Carlos, for a wonderful experience and for making the Fritto Misto happen!!!

In short, my main takeaway after my £50 voucher experience at Jamie’s Italian was that I should SAY YES more often.

Jamie Oliver is a cheeky chappy now isn’t he? And so is his food. He is being funny sometimes with his menu. Me? I would like to have a long talk with the person in marketing who called the fried ravioli “Italian Nachos,” but otherwise, how can one NOT enjoy fried ravioli?? I accidentally ate the entire spicy pepper on our bruschetta which caused some problems for me the next day (!!!) but damn if we still didn’t polish off both the ravioli and the bruschetta starters and a mixed basket of very nice bread as well.

The carbonara was luscious although after discussing it with Carlos, we determined that it was not of the creamless variety. I don’t care! The SAY YES Krista is less of purist than the old fully-employed Krista. The carbonara was still enjoyable! My dad would have loved it! (I’ve learned over the years to never take my father to an Italian restaurant in London. He is always disappointed. I don’t think he would be disappointed at Jamie’s Italian.) The sausage pappardelle was less enticing — lacking a depth of flavor — but we still polished it off.

Carlos had initially suggested that we try the Fritto Misto but then it turned out that they were still waiting for their seafood delivery. 20 minutes became one hour and 20 minutes but Denise and I were catching up on all things social media and drinking all the white wine, so it didn’t matter really. When the huge platter of Fritto Misto finally arrived, the Italians at the table next to us looked on in horror. I don’t know if you know this, but I can totally read people’s minds and I knew exactly what they were thinking.

1. How are those girls eating all of that?
2. We want some.

And while the Fritto Misto was a little short on seasoning, multiple lemon wedges delivered by Carlos on request made up for that. Even my arteries acknowledged that the quality of frying was commendable. Also, a great selection of seafood. Not a one-trick scampi pony. Excellent work, Jamie’s Italian Covent Garden. Excellent work. (But try a little pinch of Old Bay next time.)

In short, we had a good time here. I’d go back and bring my dad. We meant to stop in the front of the restaurant on the way out and check out the books and products on sale, but 1.25 liters of white wine later, we forgot. This means I will have to go back.

The Verdict: Fun for the entire family. Say yes!

Marketing bit: Jamie’s Italian does a Gold Card membership which is free and offers members little treats and promotions whenever they visit any of the restaurants. Join now.

Obligatory disclaimer in a normal font size that humans can read: Jamie’s Italian was kind enough to give me a £50 voucher for lunch at one of their restaurants. We still managed to spend £42 extra pounds AND we still tipped on what would have been the full amount. As you can (I hope) tell, I still wrote whatever I wanted to write, even with the voucher. 

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Let me get this out of the way. Generally, I don’t believe in queuing (or running) for anything. I have other things to do with my time. But…having shown up at Kanada-ya once before and having been denied…I was on a mission. A mission to see if their ramen was really all that. Excuse to visit? Elisa was in town from Chicago and when she saw my post about why I had lunched at Ippudo instead of Kanada-ya, she offered to join me at Kanada-ya. THE PRESSURE. Nothing worse than being denied a second time, so I forced poor Elisa to meet me at 4:30 pm — a full 30 minutes before Kanada-ya opened — so that we were guaranteed a spot. Luckily, we weren’t the first in the queue. We were #3 and #4. And within a few minutes, #5 and #6 were queued up behind us. We spent our time waiting catching up while alternately watching the team at Kanada-ya set up a scary looking heat-lamp that dispensed flames — unnecessarily so in my humble opinion.

London is not cold. London is balmy! I am wandering around town with a lightweight jacket! Why do they need this heat lamp?? It is very kind of them, but they already have other heat lamps so this one seems unnecessary. And unnerving. A column of fire!

The doors open at 5 p.m. on the dot. We are quickly seated and quickly place our orders…original ramen, hard noodles, with an egg each and Elisa opts for the garlic sauce too. 10 minutes later, our bowls of porky goodness arrive. It’s all pretty delicious and pretty satisfying…but is it worth the (sometimes) queue? Hmmm. I liked my ramen at Ippudo too, and I didn’t have to wait. Although the egg at Kanada-ya is better…it’s a (seemingly marinated) hanjuku egg, whereas Ippudo seemed to forego the marinated and just serve me a soft-boiled egg. I don’t know if the egg alone would make me wait in the queue at Kanada-ya though. There’s something to be said for Ippudo’s full service bar…(Priorities, people. Priorities!) Kanada-ya does offer a few Japanese beers though…

We tried to add service to the bill and we were denied! There’s something to be said for that. Also, that they are so concerned about their poor customers queuing up for them in the “cold” London air that they went out and purchased an outdoor heat lamp to supplement the already existing heat lamps. Nice of them. Caring. Sweet.

The Verdict: Nice. Small. Compact. Tasty. But if there’s a queue, Ippudo across the street is just fine.

The post Kanada-ya first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.

A three-trick pony. Do you want a burger? Or do you WANT SOME LOBSTAH? Lobstah for me, please. Ah look, it’s a decision tree! Lobster-lobster or lobster ROLL???

I choose roll. And it’s a mighty fine lobster roll, given that it’s on the wrong side of the Atlantic and all. Even the fries are good. I want more sauce. More sauce! You can do all the tricks in the world, pony, if you do them all THIS GOOD. And Burger & Lobster isn’t even new! It’s new to me, but it’s old for London. The bloom should be off the rose, but it’s not. It’s really not!

I have a moment….Why did I ever leave this place? Why???

I am prepared to throw it all away for a mini-chain lobster roll.

The weird part though is that there are 20 million Japanese tourists there when I’m there and they are all taking photos of their food. (Errrr…yes so was I. Awkward.)

The Verdict: You know you want to.

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I’ve been trying not to be so gluttonous these days. Six oysters, not twelve. Six at the bar at J. Sheekey along with a glass of champagne. A pretty good value, if I ask me. (I’m not asking you.) No celebrity sightings. Just me, at the bar, by the handicapped loo. Slurping oysters, drinking champagne, and out of there for less than 20 quid. Got to love that.

The Verdict: Word.

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Dishoom Covent Garden Inside

Dishoom Covent Garden

12 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
WC2H 9FB

The Victim: Julie

The Damage: £20 each for food, but our alcohol was comped.

The Background: First, the disclaimer. My co-worker Banita is married to one of the owners of Dishoom (Amar). This means that I probably got a bit of preferential treatment on my visit to Dishoom the other night. So for example, although Dishoom doesn’t take reservations, I had one. However, had I arrived at 7 p.m. on that Tuesday without a booking, I would have gotten a table anyhow as there was plenty of availability. Also, our drinks–a Bolly Bellini for me (Cardamom in a Bellini! Why hasn’t the world thought of this sooner?) and a St. Martini for Julie (pomegranate and chili, in a gin martini), followed by Bombaladas for both of us (pineapple, coconut milk, rum, herbs)–were comped. And Amar spent a lot of time at our table, explaining the dishes and talking to us about the restaurant.

OK, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way…

Dishoom’s Bollybellini

The delicious Bollybellini at Dishoom

You should try the Bollybellini. It’s lovely. Rose, lychee, raspberry and prosecco.

Dishoom’s Calamari

Dishoom’s Calamari

And I’d also recommend the calamari. I think this was my favorite dish of the night. Good crispy, fresh breading, with a bit of heat. Nicely textured calamari.

Dishoom’s Lamb Chops

Lamb chops at Dishoom

There have been conflicting reports about the lamb chops, but I loved these. Great char, and spicy to boot. Some have said that they were too dry, but ours were perfectly moist, with that nice crunchy barbecued outside. Prettily presented, sprinkled with pomegranates.

Other Dishes at Dishoom Covent Garden

Less interesting for me was a pau bhaji (mashed veg with hot buttered bread) and a cheesy nan. Also, the more I’ve thought about the biryani, it was just, well, biryani. It was good–don’t get me wrong–but it wasn’t a stand-out, memorable dish. It was “just” a very competent biryani.

For dessert, we had gola ice of pomegranate (are you sensing a theme here) and chili. You might have noticed that I’m not the biggest sweets person (unless we’re talking about macarons or lemon tarts), so this was just a personal preference thing for me. Not my thing. But it was interesting, for sure.

One of my favorite items of the evening was the chai…a spicy tea that I could have guzzled a dozen cups of. I can see why Dishoom might be pulling in a good breakfast crowd. With free wifi and a couple of cups of this, I could be very happy, working away at Dishoom.

There’s one thing I want to mention before I get to my final verdict. The prices. They are awesomely low, especially considering this place is on Upper St. Martin’s Lane and the kit-out could not have been cheap. At this writing, the calamari was only £4.50. The chicken biryani £7.50. The lamb chops came in tops at £9.20, but I’d say they were worth it. Can they keep up these prices? I don’t know. But if they keep up the quality of the food, they have a winner on their hands.

Ah, and Banita wanted me to mention in particular…all those pictures on the wall? They aren’t just random stock photos. All of the photos are connected to the owners in some way. (Including the photo of Amar’s dad’s ex-girlfriend in the booth we were in!)

The Verdict: Fun. Tasty. Go. Enjoy. And have a bollybellini for me.

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Date of Last Visit: Sunday, April 25

The Victim: Me

The Damage: £12

The Background: I woke up, feeling like some dolsot bibimbap. Regular readers know that this happens to me sometimes. That new place in Soho is closed on Sundays, so I settled on Corean Chilli.

This was a mistake.

Because the place smelled like pee. My table was next to a dark and dank and dirty staircase that looked like it might have been the entrance to a really bad nightclub.

The dolsot bibimbap was served with "minced beef." It was like bacon bits. More like beef seasoning than actual beef. I was (not surprisingly) disappointed.(Sorry not to capture the before photo. Sometimes I forget about my hobby.)

The bowl was very hot.

I had some plum tea with my meal. That was nice.

The Verdict: Skip it. Unless you want some plum tea. (Pricey though, that tea. £2.50? £2.75? I forget.)

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Date of Last Visit: Monday, March 22nd, 2010

The Victims: John, Paul, Rachel, Ruth

The Damage: Unknown. John paid. But I know it wasn't cheap.

The Background: Everybody who's anybody seems to love Rules these days. Especially the cocktails.

But let me cut to the chase and spoil it for you now. I'mj just not so sure I'm going to be joining this specific club.

I feel a bit harsh writing that, and I don't mean to be so, but how else to say it? Yes, yes…I know I've only been there once and maybe I should give it all another chance, etc. etc. But at these prices, well…I'm not so keen.  

Let me try to dissect my likes from my dislikes, based on my one visit with four Americans who wanted to go somewhere "British."

 
Likes:

• The guy wtih the top-hap that greets you at the door.
• The British-ness and old-school atmosphere. (But…there's a but. Keep reading.)
• The deer antlers.
• The big comfy booths.
• The way they poured my soup out of a big tureen.
• The carafes of wine.
• The beautiful presentation of the roast beef.
• How they said it would take 45 minutes for the roast beef to arrive and it took like 20 instead. (Although I kinda thought that was weird.)
• The size of the Yorkshire pudding.
• The products in the ladies' loo.

Dislikes:

• The prices.
• The lack of women. This is a dudes' retreat. An OLD dudes' retreat. (With all due respect.) Rules seems to appeal to a certain type of customer, or at least they did on the one (yes, just one) night I visited.
• The temperature (warm) of my house apertif, The Rules. (Tanquerray Gin, Dubonnet & Cremant Blanc de Blancs.) Maybe this was supposed to be served stirred, not shaken? I don't know. Blame it on my American-ness. I wanted this a bit chillier. Who likes warm gin?
• How John said the tomatoes in his back garden were more flavorful than the ones in his salad.
• The temperature (cooling) that my main–steak and chips–was served at.
• The time it took for our desserts to arrive. (Ages.)
• The response from the staff when we asked where our desserts were. "Oh, there was a problem in the kitchen and they needed to redo your dessert." Hello. This information should have been proactively offered, not sought out. Four out of five of us were jetlagged, so this delay was really wearisome. And you know…it kinda ruined everything…everyone sitting there. And sitting there…waiting.

Now when I threw some generally vague comments out there on Twitter, Simon of Dos Hermanos fame encouraged me to contact Rules directly and tell them what I thought. I never got around to doing that, and I probably should have. I'm a lazy git. But then again, I'm not one of those "restaurants should have three chances to get it right." I'm sorry. I'm there. We're' paying. Get it right.

The Verdict: Eh. (And lest you be distracted by all my points, the coolness of my main and the slowness of the dessert and the response to the slowness of the dessert were my primary gripes.)

The post Rules, Covent Garden first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.

L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon
13-15 West Street
WC2H 9NE

Date of Last Visit: Thursday, April 9

The Victim: My dad

The Damage: £85 for two with a number of wines by the glass. We should have just gotten a bottle of wine.

The Background: The times, they must be tough in London. Because you know Joel Robuchon? He's offering two courses for £19 on TopTable.co.uk. £19! And they have a glass of Shiraz on the menu for £5 a glass! This is cheaper per person than a lot of my gastropub meals. Interesting.

The Entrance: Dad and I are bang on time. I am a little worried about taking my dad to JR. He's more of a fried clams kind of guy. (So I obviously must not get my delusions of grandeur from him.) But the restaurant's service from the beginning to end is really friendly, yet professional, and we're made to feel at home.

We're given two prime seats at the bar. We're not exactly directly in front of the open kitchen, but we're only a seat or two off of it and the view is mesmerizing. These guys are very precise.

The Starters: Pea soup for dad and the look on his face when they deliver the bowl with croutons aber sans soup is priceless. Our server is being funny and whips the soup out from behind his back. Crisis averted.

For me, it's a soft-boiled egg with some very finely sliced beetroot and a smear of this and that. It's gorgeously presented. But I can't help thinking…high margin.

Still, all in all, the presentation is really wonderful and the service is keen and engaged and fun to watch. The food is good.

The Mains: On the £19 menu, you only have two choices: so it's squid risotto for my dad and some sort of stuffed pig's trotter for me. I just like to say the word trotter.

The risotto is nice, if bland. And maybe just a little too crunchy for risotto. My pig's trotter turns out to be fried and while I'm initially a bit upset about it, I get over myself. Because it's delicious, even though it is stuffed with mushrooms, only one of my least favorite things. It's on a bed of honey-glazed carrots and they're very nice. For carrots. Really, had it been described as "something deep fried stuffed with mushrooms on a bed of carrots," you couldn't describe something I wouldn't want to eat more.

Sometimes, you know it's all in the delivery.

The Verdict: You know, I liked it here. Maybe it's because I'm a pretentious something-or-other with delusions of grandeur. But maybe it's just because the service was nice, watching the kitchen was awesome, and the food was pretty good. My dad gives it a good review too.

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L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon
13-15 West Street
WC2H 9NE

Date of Last Visit: Thursday, April 9

The Victim: My dad

The Damage: £85 for two with a number of wines by the glass. We should have just gotten a bottle of wine.

The Background: The times, they must be tough in London. Because you know Joel Robuchon? He's offering two courses for £19 on TopTable.co.uk. £19! And they have a glass of Shiraz on the menu for £5 a glass! This is cheaper per person than a lot of my gastropub meals. Interesting.

The Entrance: Dad and I are bang on time. I am a little worried about taking my dad to JR. He's more of a fried clams kind of guy. (So I obviously must not get my delusions of grandeur from him.) But the restaurant's service from the beginning to end is really friendly, yet professional, and we're made to feel at home.

We're given two prime seats at the bar. We're not exactly directly in front of the open kitchen, but we're only a seat or two off of it and the view is mesmerizing. These guys are very precise.

The Starters: Pea soup for dad and the look on his face when they deliver the bowl with croutons aber sans soup is priceless. Our server is being funny and whips the soup out from behind his back. Crisis averted.

For me, it's a soft-boiled egg with some very finely sliced beetroot and a smear of this and that. It's gorgeously presented. But I can't help thinking…high margin.

Still, all in all, the presentation is really wonderful and the service is keen and engaged and fun to watch. The food is good.

The Mains: On the £19 menu, you only have two choices: so it's squid risotto for my dad and some sort of stuffed pig's trotter for me. I just like to say the word trotter.

The risotto is nice, if bland. And maybe just a little too crunchy for risotto. My pig's trotter turns out to be fried and while I'm initially a bit upset about it, I get over myself. Because it's delicious, even though it is stuffed with mushrooms, only one of my least favorite things. It's on a bed of honey-glazed carrots and they're very nice. For carrots. Really, had it been described as "something deep fried stuffed with mushrooms on a bed of carrots," you couldn't describe something I wouldn't want to eat more.

Sometimes, you know it's all in the delivery.

The Verdict: You know, I liked it here. Maybe it's because I'm a pretentious something-or-other with delusions of grandeur. But maybe it's just because the service was nice, watching the kitchen was awesome, and the food was pretty good. My dad gives it a good review too.

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Terroirs
5 William IV Street
WC2N 4DW

Date of Last Visit: Saturday, March 14th, 2009

The Victim: Me

The Damage: £25

The Background: I was out on a highly unsuccessful errand. Sometimes I think I send myself on these errands, knowing that they will be unsuccessful. This way, I can skip straight to lunch and get a blog post out of things more quickly.

I call Terroirs in advance to see if they can squeeze me in. It's a Saturday afternoon around 2 p.m. What do I know? They tell me to come on over.

The Entrance: I had no idea Terroirs was so close to Trafalgar Square. In a way, this makes me worried. Surely, they will be packed with tourists! But no. The restaurant is actually pretty empty for a Saturday lunch.

I'm given a seat at the restaurant's bar–this is a good place for the solo diner–and the guy behind the bar hands me a menu and then promptly forgets about me. A while later, he comes back and I place my order–smoked eel and some sort of polenta. I take his recommendation on the wine. And he suggests some bread.

And then I wait. And I wait. And then the wine arrives. And then I wait and I wait some more. My server apologizes for forgetting the bread. I say, "That's okay." I assume he'll bring it immediately. He doesn't. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait some more. I ask him, "Hey, how about that bread?" And he is super apologetic and brings it to me.

And all this while, I really wish I had ordered the duck scratchings to start me out.

The Food: The eel arrives and it's good. I took a picture, but my new camera phone kinda sucks so I've got nothing to show you. But the polenta with mushrooms…the polenta is fantastic! And I'm not really a huge mushroom fan. I debate ordering a second helping. But I figure that's not a good idea.

The Verdict: I liked Terroirs. I'd want to return and review more things on the menu. Was not so impressed with the speed of the service though.

The post Terroirs first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.

J Sheekey Oyster Bar
33-34 St Martin’s Court
WC2N 4AL

Date of Last Visit: Sunday, January 25 2009

The Victim: Mary Kate!

The Damage: £25 or so

The Background: I haven't seen Mary Kate in 10 years. And hey, I gotta say, neither of us have aged a bit! She's passing through town, working her way through some sort of environmental case. We make plans to meet up in Spitalfields at 1:30, but at 1:45, she's still nowhere to be seen.

Oddly, she turns up in Queensway and many texts and many many minutes later–something about a yoga class, a Blackberry, a yoga mat, a nap and a fire–I scrap the Spitalfields plans and we meet up in central London. I'm cold. And I'm wet. So I take her to Fernandez & Wells to warm up.

Well, after eating, what else is there to do but eat some more? I take Mary Kate to J Sheekey, which we have a little trouble finding because although Google Maps is good, it's not St. Martin's Court good. We are left wandering the streets for quite some time. Sorry, MK.

The Entrance: The oyster bar at J. Sheekey is empty at 3 p.m. on a Sunday. This isn't a bad thing for us. I feel like I've met our server before–I really should have asked where he used to work. And we settle in for some champagne and some oysters.

Only problem is that they're out of the special. (A half dozen Strangford Lough rock oysters, I believe, and a glass of champagne.) So we go with the Fines de Claires. Apologies.

The Food: All this and Mary Kate has never had oysters before! Now I feel doubly awful. Wandering around in the rain, all for some oysters that she might not actually eat. She tries one. Maybe two. She says politely that she likes them. "They taste like the sea." But it's me who finishes everything. Sigh.

The Verdict: I like it here. I'd come back. Particularly with my dad. I think he'd dig it.

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