& Clarke's

Ok, let’s do it. I’m planting the flag and putting &Clarke's on the map (and yes I’m well aware of the fact it’s been around since 1988). To all cake and bake lovers out there, a visit here is essential before any conclusions can be drawn with reference to the outlet for the best breads, cakes, cookies, etc in the capital.

&Clarke's shares the impressive double fronted premises with Sally Clarke’s eponymous restaurant. I’ve yet to dine at the latter as I’ve been somewhat put off by the stuffiness portrayed by its more mature patrons who frequent there. Give me a couple more years then I’ll be grey enough to join them, or perhaps not; I don’t do ties!

&Clarke's started out as a provision shop selling artisanal breads and upmarket groceries to the well-heeled folks of this part of London. Over the years it has expanded its activities to wholesale to include supplying breads to Harrods Food Hall and La Fromagerie; as well as baked goodies to a whole host of wonderful coffee temples like Monmouth, Taylor Street, Wild & Wood and The Espresso Room. From here &Clarke's enviable reputation as a nonsuch baker was thus set in concrete.

Upon entering the shop, you’re assured an ethos of quality. The sight and smells of fresh bread and baked goods plus a hint of the odd goat’s cheese are enough to ensure that you’re not leaving this place without spending a few quid. In addition, countless bottles of wine, home-baked biscuits, oils, preserves, chutneys and many more posh edibles are displayed to their full potential to entice the unsuspecting. The shop is done up to retain a certain Ye Olde Shoppe character with an insurance of a cosy English Tea Room on tow.

As a reminder the seating space at the back is small, I reckon eight at max. Not only is afternoon tea served in the shop, light lunches (appealing no less to the likes of Miss Jean Brodies or yummy mummies) also appear on the menu.

I’ve been here a few times now and have always looked forward to going back again. The following pics are as delicious as they look. Lady Gray asked me recently if I actually ate all the stuff that are shown on this blog, like three slices of cakes in one go; yes of course I do, all of it, as it’s rare for me leave stuff on the plate uneaten. Oink.

I was wondering if this was the best Chicken Pie I’ve had. Served at room temperature it was astounding, imagine what it would be like straight from the oven, I shudder even to think about it.

Custard tart of some sort, possibly a twist on the Maid of Honour. Immensely buttery and rich. Perfect with Darjeeling tea.

Chocolate Cake 1- light and to damn easy to glut, another slice please!

Savoury Cheese and Bacon Slice. I think I suffer from internalised quichephobia, despite my disliking for this cold dish I find myself eating it whenever I see one. It was rather good actually, the highly visual pieces of bacon helped.

Sausage Roll

Half the size and half the price of the now fabled one from The Ginger Pig. This is just as good and besides you always know when the pastry itself is perfect when half of it ends up all over your clothes.

Rocky Road evilness. If you put me in a room full of marshmallows and chocolates, I shall fall from even greater grace than where I’m currently at. Shameless is my middle name.

Chocolate Cake 2- Denser and richer than the first one. It was so rich that it drooped (which precisely applies to my own posture as well).

Lemon and Almond slice. One of my favourites and it’s a perfect treat with strong black coffee like Monmouth (which &Clarke's both serve and sell the beans).

Chicken Pie- same as above but more domed shaped. I’m lost for words…oh yes it’s the best cluck pie I’ve had. Confirmation imparted.

Damson Cheesecake and Carrot Cake
The latter was possibly the only disappointment, not moist enough and the frosting, although very good, too little was applied. The cheesecake was tremendous enough to warrant an unabashed trio of indecent but suggestive pics.

teasing

niminy-piminy

luscious

I lost nearly a stone two months ago, but now it looks like a gain of a stone and more is inevitable. &Clarke's cannot be anything else but excellent. Go, it’s on the map now.

122 & 124 Kensington Church Street
London W8 4BH

www.sallyclarke.com

Goodman

If I ever decide to become a chicken farmer I would feed the birds on nowt but dried shrimp feed. This would then guarantee the most profound tasting roast bird one can possibly ask for. Like the USDA Prime beef that comes from grain-fed cattle, it may well be deemed unnatural to feed either animals on stuff that nature intended otherwise; but on behalf of all the meat loving fans out there, if the end result is good then so be it. I’ve now had the opportunity to eat USDA Prime twice, first at Maze Grill and then at The Palm. It was the latter that finally made me sit up and conclude that grain-fed beef knocks the spots off the grass-fed variety. USDA Prime steaks are consistently richer in flavour and juicier than what we are generally accustomed to. The only problem I hazard is once you’ve tasted it for the first time you'll morph into a steak snob. It’s exceedingly expensive.

An employee at Goodman told me that they were extremely grateful for all the excellent reviews and raves from the press and customers alike. But they can also be counter-productive as some first time diners might find their expectations exceed beyond the pale as far as their steak dinners are concerned. Well if this review is anything to go by, then it can only be in total praise of Goodman. Some readers will undoubtedly hold on dear to their favourite steak haunts like Hawksmoor or the Gaucho chain, but Goodman is the one for me; it had such an effect on me that I brought my teenager here for her very first piece of steak.

The ceremonial lowdown

As I was intending to go to Goodman for the first time, I needed a dining companion who was well informed on all manners relating to the consumption of a good piece of steak. If Helen at World Foodie Guide is the Queen of Dim Sum, then who better to hook up with at Goodman than the Prince of Steaks aka Chris from Cheese and Biscuits. His review of our evening can be read here. As soon as I walked in, David Strauss the restaurant manager greeted me. David is well versed in managing restaurants like this one, he was in charge of one of the famous Morton’s branches across the pond for nine years. This charming man noticed my rather large camera (an attention seeking accessory to some but I can assure you that it certainly wasn’t deliberate on my behalf) and inquired if I’d been sent here by Simon. Simon? Oh Simon Majumdar from Dos Hermanos; godlike and the King of Steaks. No, I told David, I don’t know and I’ve never met Mr Majumdar but the camera was intended for paparazzing steak porn. Like Hawksmoor, Goodman offers a variety of cuts from different breeds and thankfully David was happy to oblige with my request for a platter of assorted cows to feed the two of us.

Personally when going to a steakhouse for dinner, starters are a waste of time. There’s only so much meat that one can eat. The following made an appearance:

UK grass-fed- sirloin
Irish Black Angus, 120 days grain-fed- rib-eye
USDA beef, 120 days grain-fed- New York Strip (sirloin by any other name)

All of the above were cooked to medium rare. No prizes for guessing which came out best. The Brit grass-fed was good as steaks go, but it simply dwindled when compared to the Irish Black Angus (sourced from the butchers’ butcher Jack O’Shea). The latter surpassed my other experiences at Hawksmoor, Buen Ayre and Popeseye. If you haven’t had the USDA Prime yet, then this could well be the best tasting steak in the capital with an ethically acceptable carbon footprint. Although I’ve yet to savour pure Kobe beef (forget about the much hyped Wagyu which I find overpriced and lacking in flavour), the Yankee contribution is the best I’ve ever eaten. Rich and concentrated in flavour, tender and buttery, and the most defining moment when it comes to the term melting.

The best ham comes from Spain, as is the chicken from France, crabs from Sri Lanka, grouse from Scotland and now I strongly believe, and have been justified that the best steaks hail from the States (hear someone shouting Argentina, yes it’s excellent but it ain’t USDA Prime).

The accompaniments of the creamed spinach and hand cut chips were perfunctory in the company of the illustrious meat platter.

After the steakout we were treated to, much to my schoolboy glee, a tour of the kitchen.

Costly Josper charcoal grills that are made in Spain.

If you're wondering, the kitchen has air conditioning.

Attaining a true barbecue taste.

The dry ageing room.

senium caro
(Old age flesh or to be more precise, 120 day old Irish Black Angus)

I ended my meal with a caramelized Braeburn apple tart and cinnamon ice cream.
It was more than passable and I don’t think I need to remind you that we come here for the raison d’être and that doesn’t mean the pudding.

There are two chaps I would like to extend my gratitude to for a wonderful and enlightening evening. David, a first-class host and Chris, a terrific companion; thank you gents.

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Came back here for lunch with my daughter. The teenager has never been enamoured by any red meat and since I told her about Goodman she exclaimed she was ready for first ever steak. Like myself, she was impressed with the dining room and ambience, like most typical steakhouses there’s a gentleman’s club feel about it but with the chauvinism removed. Unlike The Palm one doesn’t have to dine under incandescent lighting during lunch, an ample amount of natural daylight helps with the mood. Just to confirm that London isn’t that huge after all, that bloke on the left with the red T-shirt is Kang from Londoneater (Yo! Kang!). The service this time was courtesy of one of the most enchanting waitresses I’ve encountered for a long time. If you’re lucky enough, Sarah is her name.

Here she is with the different cuts and breeds of beef. You can watch her excellent presentation I videoed here.

Saturday lunch

As tried and tested by her Dad and seconded by Sarah as her favourite cut, my daughter adjudged her New York strip to be a triumph. If a kid’s going to try something for the first time, then give them the best; it’s my prerogative, I’m her Dad. This time around I’m able to pay more attention to the sauces that were presented with the steak. All four of the béarnaise, pepper, mushroom and reduced red wine jus with Stilton were very good, but the latter stood out. The chips were laudable and the spinach we finished with relish.

The next choice of burger from the non-steak mains that also included lamb chops, chicken and salmon had to done for the most obvious reasons that only foodies can ascertain to. Now the Goodman burger comes adorned with lettuce, pickle, tomato, onion, Foodstories kinda bun (brioche) and of course chips. Extra toppings available are sautéed mushrooms, cheddar, bacon fried egg and more fried onions. Oh, all the toppings are included in the price (£12) and there are no restrictions imposed on one’s hoggishness. Has to be one of the best-loaded burgers in town that’s wallet friendly.

Before I could utter a word, daughter said the burger was better than Haché’s, I agreed. Carlsberg don’t do burgers, but if they did then they would be deeply unhinged because this amazing joy to behold can be found in Maddox Street instead. It’s sweet to see an establishment like Goodman taking their lesser dishes as seriously as their steaks. Not that I’m into nagging, but give the cow a bit of dignity, order the burger medium to appreciate it to its max.

Goodman comes highly recommended. It’s certainly one of the best finds of the year for me. The service, the food and the passion were good enough to convince me that it’s not that expensive but surpassingly good value for money. Goodman, cheers and I shall be back.

A separate praise of the Goodman Burger here.


26 Maddox Street
London W1S 1HQ


www.goodmanrestaurants.com

The Bruncheon Club

Sunday 16/08/09

Fast track or perhaps even queue jumping time. I decided to post this review ahead of the others that I’ve accumulated, simply because I was excited about going to the place and the end result was marvellous.

My shop is normally open on Sunday mornings for the sake of my beloved hi-fi boffs as a surgery (or think Sunday School, it’s vaguely analogous). Well not this morning as I had to ‘make haste; the better foot before’ to Hackney Downs by 11AM for a repast. The walk took around two hours and a fair bit from Hugh Grant land. Walking a fair distance increases the appetite and there’s nothing quite like when upon arrival at the destination, good nosh awaits you. I made it in good time at the Bruncheon Club for a few early snaps** .

I shan’t go into lengthy details about the BC since a better and as per usual, wittier review written by Lamarmiteamoureux can be found here.

Maya and Gregg host the Bruncheon Club at their delightful garden flat. There are two sittings of six guests each, one at the said 11AM and the other for the not so early birds at 2PM. Despite this morning being only their third event, there were no signs of nerves or mishaps to be seen; the handsome couple seemed like seasoned pros when it comes to feeding strangers at their abode. Without going overboard, I found the hospitality utterly genuine and warm.

Like all underground restaurants, mingling with the other guests is essential. It was good to meet Simeon, Anne, Al, Fran and Ginanne. Salut folks! I believed we talked about everything from Anne and Simeon’s pet hedgehog, Lord Weetabix to things that I’ve never even heard of, like the Lamington sponge cake from Australia. And not once did we talk about the weather and speaking of which, it was a perfect sunny morning for brunch and a friendly banter.

Faithful to the rules that culminate a true brunch, Bloody Marys were served first to ease the path to what’s left of the weekend from the previous night’s excesses (in my case, digesting Glen Duncan’s I, Lucifer). My Virgin Mary was so good that it prompted the question on why the fuss with gazpacho? This perfectly concocted liquid goodness wouldn’t be out of place if served in a bowl; a worthy and defining starter for the summer.

BC’s own description of Simple Seasonal Fruit.
Of strawbs and raspers, I just don’t eat enough fruits of any kind. This shortcoming in my diet can be only be remedied if I’m either force-fed or if the fruit is presented in a pretty bowl as shown. I was impeccably well behaved this morning, I ate the entire contents.

Eggs Royale (poached duck eggs on English muffins with smoked salmon and home-made Hollandaise)

Whoever cooked the eggs should be outted as a professional chef, faultlessly poached and not a reek of vinegar whiffed. The Hollandaise sauce was beautifully executed and I could well imagine Messrs Torode and Wallace swooning over it. An Eggs Royale that’s best described as State of the Art, bravo BC!

The yielding of the creamiest yolk imaginable.

Caffeine A

Caffeine B

Warm Croissants with butter and jam.
When I’m at home I just eat the croissant straight out of the bag or packet, but never warmed up! I’ve been denying this little detail of luxury for the past three years…sad. Oh I ate mine the French way, neat and unadulterated. I’m now well fed and prepped for the return journey back to W2.

What Maya and Gregg have done is a welcome niche in terms of the supper club phenomenon. I thoroughly enjoyed my time here, and so should you; BC deserves the success. There was even talk of Sunday Roast Dinners, I can only wait in anticipation. With my endorsement and support for The Underground Restaurant, The Hidden Tea Room and The Shed, I can now wholeheartedly include the Bruncheon Club on the that list too. Big, big recommendation, book now!

* King John, Shakespeare.

** The camera can be often be misconstrued as disrespectful or intimidating to some people, I sincerely hope that I’m always responsible with it.


The suggested donation is £12.

thebruncheonclub.blogspot.com