Saturday, 21 July 2012


“Please refrain from taking photographs in the restaurant, thank you”

This is because Mr Hirst doesn’t approve of it, as the blue formaldehyde should never resemble the colour of urine if your camera misjudges the white balance.

Well, FTFAL.

Tramshed (the autospeller kept insisting on ‘thrashed’ instead which then led to my reoccurring dreams of train-wrecks) is a restaurant that only serves only chicken and steak as its main courses. It’s done up in such a way that only the mature scenesters are worthy of flocking in.

This post is not about the cow because once you’ve been to...

Plan A
Plan B

...then everything else sucks.

I came to Tramshed for the cluck. A roast chicken dinner evokes an unparalleled feeling of culinary completeness. And I’m happy to declare that Tramshed did indeed fulfil that desire.

Clover Tea Club 
Plymouth gin, lemon, raspberry syrup, and chilled earl grey tea. £9.75
Except that the above was virgined, sans gin- ½ price at only a fiver.

The Virgin Tea Club lived up to their drinks’ menu commitment of-

“Our long drinks can be created in sympathy to the drivers, the impending mothers, those who have consumed too much, those that are not yet able to consume, and finally those whose religion, culture, or mother forbids them to imbibe. Please ask your waiter.”

Chicken and Chips.
The service courtesy of this engaging chap alone (we were allocated at the bar) was quite brilliant.

Goes without saying that a majority of Gweilos have queasy issues about them feet. But I don’t mind and besides I prefer the feet like served like this.

But you have to admit it’s more of an oil painting than its creator.

Engaging chap initiates the ceremony by jointing the leg.

An excellent and most perfect roast chicken Simon Hopkinson would approve of. 
Chips were pleasant enough but were perhaps too chickeny as rightly suggested but undeservedly lambasted by a certain ‘divine and rubicund’ restaurant blogger.

I’m a leg man every time!

Waste not, want not. 
Doggy bag the carcass and proceed home with the chicken soup recipe provided by Hixy.

Ronnie’s apple pie with custard

It was dull as ditchwater. 
Ronnie has obviously never tried one of Maccy D's apple pies! 

At least for me, roasting a chicken at home is a major hassle so if I were you I would rather leave the whole kerfuffle to Tramshed instead. £25 for a delicious bird that has been happily reared and with more than enough chips you’ll ever need to scoff in one sitting can only be excellent value for money.Tramshed gets my vote for the ambience, service at the bar and that mighty chicken.

 Below is a plug for ''The Roast Chicken'', a poem by Robin Becker:

32 Rivington Street
London EC2A 3LX

Wednesday, 11 July 2012


Before Tonkotsu came into fruition the proprietors have already done their R&D and the ‘guinea pig thing’ with friends and bloggers. The general consensus, especially the latter, suggested that Tonkotsu are on to a winner! So, no excuses for any teething problems I’d say.

My thoughts-
Chicken Karaage 

Greasy chicken pieces callously fried with the blandest coating imaginable. If Tonkotsu were using free-range birds then they’ve obviously mastered the art of how to make any chicken taste resolutely like the battery variety. It was Frank Chickens frankly poor and unnecessarily expensive
Oinky Gyoza

Woefully under seasoned and in need of immediate troubleshooting.

Have you ever wondered why pork remains pink when presented before your eyes?

a) When it is undercooked.
b) When it is Iberico pork, because God said it was ok.
c) When it is cooked from frozen.

The answer for the above pic is c.

Tonkotsu fell short with their Karaage and Gyoza, they need to take a leaf out of the below-

If one’s not too fussed about food being reheated in microwave ovens then Arigato (the Japanese supermarket on Brewer Street) knows a thing or two about dishing out tasty snacks at bargain prices. £2.40 for 5 pieces of deep-fried chicken (always brown meat and never the sacrilegious white) and likewise for a pack of the most passable pork dumplings (and never served pink). 
Rank amateurs, they are certainly not.

The ramen-

 The Tokyo Spicy.
I think it’s fair to say that we’ve all accepted that Japanese curries are devoid of any red-hot chillies. The above bowl of noodles, faithful to the said curry, possessed a similar Scoville rating of nearly no significant heat either. The condiment of chilli oil provided was toddler fodder and hopelessly mild as well.
That said, the ramen itself was rather good (i.e. the bite was there) and the stock was seriously well concocted.

The Tonkotsu
Like the Tokyo Spicy, these guys have perfected the soup stock. The entire bowl tasted quite delicious and that included vacuuming the last julienne of shinachiku (bamboo shoot). 
But my qualm lies with its price. Eleven quid for a not substantial bowl of noodles is taking the proverbial p*ss!

Whereas, MSG withstanding, this generous bowl of noodle heaven was only £5.50!

Or put the scrooge hat on-

Get yourself a 39p packet of instant noodles…

 …garnish at will and reap the rewards. 
The above serving was only a fifth of the cost of what Tonkotsu charges for their effort.

So thumbs down for Tonkotsu and besides, if I'm hankering after better bowl of ramen in London, I would come here instead.

63 Dean Street
London W1D 4QG