Lucky Chip at The Sebright Arms

With London's burger scene ever growing, Lucky Chip met with rave reviews and comparisons with Meat Liquor's burgers. Both styled from the same American-diner style stable, Lucky Chip's burger menu includes more leftfield options like the Jeff Bridges' True Grit burger (bacon, bourbon glazed apple, bbq sauce, grits etc), as well as the Tom Selleck and the Kelly LeBrock. I heard rumours of Bill Murray's Life Aquatic surf and turf burger, combining beef with soft shell crab within one bun. Wowzer.

One Friday evening, I weaved my way around the back streets of Bethnal Green to The Sebright Arms to meet four friends. Lucy Chip is usually at Netil Market during the day and at evening this pub serves their burgers. A regular old boozer, we arrived at 7pm and the place already had a buzz about it. By the time we left at around 10pm it was packed to the rafters and I had to shimmy my way around people to make my way out. No queue though.

I went for the Kevin Bacon (a bacon cheeseburger), while my friends opted for the Kelly LeBrock; a beef patty sat on spinach leaves and topped with cream cheese, caramelised onions and bacon. A little mix up with the waitress whereby she almost gave me my burger but then changed her mind and then I had to wrestle it off her, dislodging the bun lid and having her slapping it back on bare-handed almost detracted from the experience, but then one bite of the burger and it was all forgotten. The meat was juicy and well seasoned - crucial for a burger, I feel - and the bacon crisp and fatty. The bun was a shiny one, holding its' shape well and not distracting from the contents.

Star of the show were the chilli cheese fries (above, shit photo). The fries were properly potatoey and topped with chilli that had a real kick and had us reaching for tissues to stem the sniffling. Their menu lists fries served with free truffle oil which we had a portion of, but I much preferred them when dunked in a the pot of properly spicy wasabi mayo.

I saw a couple of their hot dogs go past which looked excellent so I'll be sure to be trying them next time. We came away having spent about a tenner each (on food, the booze was a different story), satisfied and happy.

The Sebright Arms

31 - 35 Coate Street

London E2 9AG

Roasted Pears with Salted Caramel Syrup

Although I'm not a Christian, I'll take any excuse to pig out on pancakes and I always get caught up in the Pancake Day craze. I'm more of an American kind of girl; I prefer their airy thickness to the wafer-thin crepe. My usual is blueberry, enhanced with maple butter (also called maple cream - basically, 100% maple syrup heat treated so that it is a buttery, creamy, oh holy god dribble-worthy consistency) that I found at the back of the cupboard but this time I decided on something different. Some sort of fruit was required to go with the salty caramel syrup I had been mooning after.


Pears hold their shape well and in fact roasting is beneficial to the rock-solid specimens we get at the supermarket. The heat softens them up and releases their juices, so you can get away with pears which aren't quite at their best. Roasted with a dab of butter in their hollows, I splashed them with vanilla essence to add further fragrance. Served atop fluffy pancakes and drizzled - or, you know, drenched - in salty caramel sauce, this was one of the best things I've made in a while. That salty caramel is so addictive it forces you to eat it straight from the jug until you feel pretty damn sick.


Pancake recipe is here.

Roasted Pears

Serves 4

6 pears, slightly under-ripe
1 tsp vanilla essence
Enough butter to dot into the hollows

Heat the oven to 190 degrees C. Peel the pears and halve - scoop out the middles with the seeds and dot with a small cube of butter. Roast for 20 minutes, then turn over and roast for another 20 minutes. Smaller or riper pears may need less so give them a poke every so often.


Salty Caramel Syrup

Serves 4

150gr soft brown sugar
80gr butter
100ml double cream
A hefty pinch of sea salt flakes

In a large saucepan (don't be tempted to use a small one, you want some good whisking space) heat the sugar up until it has all melted, stirring occasionally so that it melts evenly. Add the butter in and whisk well until incorporated. It may look lumpy and a bit gross at this point. Whisk in the cream, poured in a steady stream. Cook gently while whisking until smooth and silky - this may take a few minutes. Add the salt and then taste - carefully, it'll be molten - and add more if you think it needs it. I like my caramel quite salty.

Serve the roasted pears atop the pancakes, drizzled with the caramel sauce.

Burnt Ends Bao & Pitt Cue Soho

I don't know whether you made it to Pitt Cue Co.'s barbecue truck underneath the Hungerford Bridge last summer, but if not you're in luck, as they've just opened a tiny place on Newburgh Street. We popped in during soft launch to be immediately greeted by pickle backs, that combination of a shot of bourbon followed swiftly by a shot of pickle juice. Most people wrinkle their noses at this, but once you drink it that sweet sour kick you get is addictive. Even if it does have a hint of Big Mac about it.

Downstairs is tiny, and the four of us squished in for dinner and ordered virtually everything from the menu. Trays came out laden with smoked meats, pickles and other sides. Pulled pork was soft and juicy, pork ribs glorious. Beef brisket was smoky and tender, and beef ribs fatty and charred. Burnt ends mash was insanely addictive, and ample helpings of beet slaw cut through the richness. Crispy pickled shiitake mushrooms were an absolute revelation and I still drool at the memory. It turned us feral, and we grabbed at each others' trays, trying to get a good taste of it all. All washed down with a New York Sour, I can imagine myself spending a lot of time here when they open properly on Monday 16th January.



We popped into the kitchen to give a wave to Tom and Neil who were manning the stoves and they kindly sent us off with a packet of burnt ends. These are the ends of the briskets that take on the most smoke flavour when they're cooking and often thought of as a delicacy. In thinking about what to do with my bounty, my brain kept screaming "MASH! Re-create that mash!" but I decided instead on buns. More specifically, the buns you get at dim sum restaurants ('bao' in Cantonese), usually stuffed with char siu (barbecue pork). The buns are steamed and they are soft and sweet, rich smoky meat within. The burnt ends were an obvious replacement.

The dough was a lengthy process, and I turned to the ever-trusty Sunflower for guidance. Her recipe involved making a flour roux first, then adding this to dry ingredients. I am not much of a baker to know why, but it worked so I'll go with it.

After a couple of hours proving, the dough was then flattened and stuffed with the burnt ends mix to then be pleated shut.

Left to prove in the steamer for a little longer, I was worried that they wouldn't work. They seemed like they hadn't risen much.

Happily, they doubled in size when they were steamed. The buns came out a more cream colour than what you might be used to at dim sum restaurants, but this is because commercially made bao is made with super bleached flour. Incidentally I found some when I was at my local Chinese supermarket picking up something else while this dough was proving. Typical.

I was really happy with the result; soft, pillowy buns broke open to reveal intensely smoky and juicy meat. I ate 4 of these with ease.

Burnt Ends Bao

Makes 9 - 10

(Adapted from Sunflower)

20gr plain flour
100mls water

Whisk in the flour to the water while it is heating gently. Keep whisking until it has thickened and take off the heat. Leave to cool.

1 tsp instant yeast
80mls water
Flour roux as above
300gr plain flour (or bao flour)
1.5 tsp baking powder
1 tbsp vegetable oil
60gr sugar
1/2 tsp salt

Mix the yeast with the water and set aside. Sieve the flour and the baking powder together.

Mix the flour roux with the dissolved yeast liquid, sugar, salt and oil.

Using the mixing paddle or a sturdy wooden spoon, add half the liquid to the flour mixture and mix well. Add the rest of the liquid using a tablespoon so that you get a soft but not too sticky dough. I used all the liquid but you may need less. Mix well but don't knead it and leave it for 15 minutes. Then give it a quick knead until it is smooth, and leave to prove somewhere warm for 1.5 hours or 2, basically until it has risen 1.5 times in size.

Filling:

Any kind of barbecued meat, or char siu. You'll want it to have a bit of sauce though so that it's not too dry.

10 squares of greaseproof paper
1 tbsp white vinegar

When the dough has risen, dust it with a bit of flour and knead for a minute. Divide into 9 or 10 pieces and roll into balls.

Flatten the dough into a circle. It's better to have the middle a little thinner than the edges. Place a tablespoon of filling into the centre and start gathering the dough from the right handside - try to pleat and twist towards the centre so that you have a middle gathering at the top of the bun. Place on a square of greaseproof paper and leave to rise for another 15 minutes.

Add the white vinegar to the water in the steamer - this is supposed to make the bao fluffier - and once the water is boiling, add the buns to the steamer and place the lid on. Steam for 10 minutes on high and then remove. Eat while hot; any leftovers can be refrigerated and steamed gently to reheat, or frozen.

New York - December Edition - Not So Cheap

As much as I loved all the cheaper places we visited, leisurely dinners meant coughing up a bit more. My favourite of the trip goes to Schiller's Liquor Bar. Located on the Lower East Side, the room is white tiled, darkly lit and bustling. The bar area was filled with people perched on high stools sipping on beers and we were seated at one of the last tables for two left.

I loved how unpretentious it was; the wine list was simply presented as 3 options; 'cheap', 'decent' and 'good'. When our bottle arrived, CHEAP was plastered across it. I'm not a wine buff in any way, shape or form and our bottle was drinkable and tasted good.

East Coast and West Coast oysters were sweeter with more mineral flavour than ones from our own shores. Crab and articoke dip with melba toast was decadently creamy and rich, though I'd have preferred a little more crab flavour. A seared tuna Nicoise salad (what was I thinking!?) was horrendously overshadowed by The Boy's 'pork chops and roasted potatoes'. What was presented to him was a behemoth plate with two chops and a pile of roasted potatoes, just as advertised. They were cooked in the most delicious caramelised onion, ginger and garlicky sauce. I almost cried with envy.

With a couple of well made cocktails and well deserved tip for our affable and charming waiter, the bill came to around £50 / head.



I was a fan of David Chang since I went to Momofuku Noodle Bar on my first visit. Since then I've become an even bigger fan, having bought his cookbook and the quarterly magazine he's a part of, Lucky Peach. We managed to nab two seats at the bar at Momofuku Ssam early on new year's eve.

I'd have liked to try more of the raw dishes but they were quite pricy, so we settled on one - diver scallops with yuba (tofu skin), satsuma and coriander. The smears were intensely orange flavoured and worked well with the sweet, delicate shellfish. Yuba doesn't taste of much but had a tender texture, much like the skin you get on top of gravy. It sounds rank but it was a great texture contrast to the scallop.

The pork buns, which Momofuku is famous for were pretty damn sexy. Pillowy steamed buns were stuffed with a slab of fatty warm pork belly, with a smear of hoisin sauce and sliced cucumbers. It took everything in my power to refrain from cancelling the other dishes and ordering another seven of these instead.

Fuji apple kimchi with bacon and maple mayo was incredible; rather than the apples being fermented with garlic and chilli over a length of time, the apples were crisp and fresh, having been dressed in kimchi juice instead. The bacon was really smoky and coupled with the maple mayo it was perfect.

Market greens came in the form of swiss chard, cooked in XO sauce and topped with a heap of fried shallots. Cooked until the stalks were al dente and the leaves just wilted, the intense savoury flavour of the XO sauce was thankfully sparing; any more and it would have been overwhelming.

Spicy sausage with fried rice cakes and Sichuan pepper was my least favourite dish of the meal. Although the rice cakes had a great texture, both gooey and crispy from frying, after a while it began to all get a bit samey with each bite. Too stuffed for dessert and with a party to get over to, we decided against desserts. With a couple of cocktails each, our bill again reached around £50 / head.



After an afternoon of ice skating, we were ravenous. The temperature on our last night was around -5 C; I don't think I've been anywhere that cold. The streets of New York were windy, and as we rushed towards Locanda Verde in TriBeCa I had everything crossed that we wouldn't have to wait long.

The place is cavernous, dark - this is a recurring theme - but lively. Families dined with small children, couples were having intimate dinners and groups of friends were sharing plates. A long L-shaped bar was absolutely rammed, both with people having drinks waiting for a table as well as people eating at the bar. A mere half hour wait while nursing a Negroni was all it took before we were seated.

A tuna crostini with smoked cannellini beans and a hint of lemon was perfunctory enough to keep the hunger at bay. Proscuitto lent smokiness to the prawns they were wrapping, doused in romesco sauce and it was dotted with creamy white beans to give some heartiness to the dish.

Marinated beet salad was a textbook example. Tender beetroot was topped with slices of fennel and happily they didn't go for the obvious goats cheese, but instead smoked ricotta. Some welcome crunch was provided from the pistachio garnish, with a smear of pistachio puree hiding under the beets.

We had a lot of trouble trying to decide on mains, but we were pleased with our spiced duck choice. Huge slabs of flush pink breast arrived, garnished with pomegranate seeds, small faro grains and cavolo nero. The skin was crisp with sweetness with a hint of the exotic, and the meat as tender as butter. A side dish of roasted brussel sprouts was a hearty affair; strong mustard flavours with the slightly bitter brassica was reinforced further with chunks of pecorino and pancetta. It was the unheathiest vegetable side I've laid eyes on in recent times. Obviously I thought it was great.

Orecchiette was served with beans and fennel sausage and a hard strong cheese grated on top. These were gutsy flavours and the little ears held them well. With the beans and pasta combined, it was great comfort food. But good lord we were stuffed afterwards.

A pear, quince and cranberry crisp with vanilla bourbon ice cream sounds quite light and insubstantial, right? That's what we thought when we ordered it to share. A deep ramekin arrived with the aforementioned fruits in a crumble. Crisp, it turns out, is a crumble. Oof. We managed to polish it all off due to its own deliciousness caused by nuts being incorporated into the crumble topping, but I was rendered incapacitated after the meal and could only lie down and make small groaning noises.

Locanda Verde reminded me a lot of Polpo both in atmosphere and food; unsurprising really, as the recommendation to go there came from Russell Norman. Locanda Verde is a touch more expensive though, we hit £60 a head with a bottle of wine.



Now I shall be nibbling on dry bread and lentils until my bank balance recovers.

New York - December Edition - On the Cheap

I'm a bit of a lucky cow really; I've just spent five days in New York, my third visit of the year. This time the focus was heavily on cheap and casual with a couple of blow-outs sprinkled here and there. We brunched more too; breakfast is entirely out of the question due to being an extremely lazy person, but 11am is a manageable time.

We attempted to go to well-known brunch spot on a Saturday morning and we were greeted with about 25 people milling about outside. Waiting times can be up to 2 hours so we sacked it off and headed instead for Diner, over the river in Williamsburg. In what looked like a disused train carriage the place was packed to the rafters with cool kids sipping on bloody marys. Within 10 minutes we were seated and a delicious dish of scrambled eggs with a biscuit (aka. a savoury scone) topped with pork gravy (aka. white sauce with bits of sausage in it) ($12) kept me going till dinnertime.


We didn't give up on Clinton Street Baking Company though and came back on a weekday, as several people had proclaimed theirs to be The Best pancakes in New York. We patiently waited outside for half an hour, while my still-damp hair turned crispy with frost. We were seated snugly inside and a mountain of sugar-cured bacon, eggs with fried green tomatoes and cheesy grits ($13) warmed me up. The show stopper was indeed the wild Maine blueberry pancakes, served with a warm maple butter ($12). Sweet mother of God these were good, and worth the freezing wait we endured. Warm and fluffy inside, slightly crisp edges, punctuated with blueberries within and a mound of them on top, the maple butter drenching into the pancakes was... just... uuuunnngggg. I have no words. I need a moment alone with this memory.



Seemingly my beloved can exist on merely two meals a day - the horror - so one evening I went foraging for a snack on my own. Just a block away I came across a branch of Xi'an Famous Foods, heartily recommended by many. On St Marks Place, it was tiny; two benches faced the wall, which was plastered with the laminated menu and pictures of the dishes. As I was merely snacking, I went for Chang-an Spicy Tofu ($2) and Liang Pi Cold Skin Noodles ($4.50). Within 5 minutes I was out of there, clutching my takeaway bag.

It was pretty huge for my supposed snack and goddamn it was delicious. Slippery soft, delicate tofu was bathed in a savoury, sour broth tinged with ginger and garlic and with a slick of fiery red chilli oil. Cold skin noodles (here's an interesting Wikipedia article on how they're made) made your lips go numb with Sichuan peppercorns, while the soft pliable noodles stained all and sundry with the dressing they were doused in. I absolutely honked of garlic afterwards but I immediately wanted to go back to try everything else with another serving of tofu on the side. Alas, I ran out of time.



Later that evening, we hit Corner Bistro, reputedly New York's best burger. Famed for its queues, we arrived late and got lucky; seated in 5 minutes. The burger, loosely packed and cooked as requested, came with rashers of crispy bacon and perhaps a touch more raw onion in a huge hoop than I'd have liked, but was really very good. Pickles on the side and fries that were just like McDonalds' - which is a good thing - made me a fan. At $8-ish for the Bistro burger it was insanely good value. Value aside though, Minetta Tavern's effort pips it to the post for me.



Revelation of the trip goes to Otafuku, purveyors of takoyaki. Takoyaki are balls of batter studded with cooked octopus. I'll admit it doesn't sound particularly appealing, but when I went there to yet again another hole-in-the-wall place with barely standing room for more than 3 people and no seating, I was transfixed by a huge metal pan with spherical molds, takoyaki cooking merrily inside. You'll have the excuse the photo. I am resolutely right handed and trying to wield chopsticks and take a picture while supressing the urge to stuff them in my gob was just too much.

These reminded me of a Japanese version of Jose's ham croquetas. Crisp on the outside and light and moussey inside, these are drizzled with takoyaki sauce (whatever that might be), mayonnaise and topped with a dusting of seaweed and shavings of dried bonito. $5 for 5 I think, and after I'd finished, I only wanted more and more.



Often regarded as one of the best makers of ramen, Ippudo has a legendary reputation for enormous queues and long waiting times, all for a bowl of noodles in broth. People get seriously passionate about ramen, and while I'm only just delving into this world I am fully in love with the stuff. Which might explain why I was outside Ippudo on a Tuesday morning at 10:45am, 7th in the queue, waiting for the 11am opening time. Once inside, the space reminds me of a Busaba Eathai. Seated communally, the din is incredible. Every time someone walks in, all the staff shout a greeting in Japanese to the mostly young Asian crowd. I was in and out in 30 minutes and by the time I left, pop music was pumping and the poor hapless sod opposite me was still trying to shout business down his mobile phone, with laptop out.

The lunch deal includes any ramen plus a rice with topping and side salad for merely $3 extra. I chose the grilled eel with rice, a surprisingly generous portion. The fish was soft and tender, the rice well cooked.

The curious side of me wanted to choose their 'special' which included Parmesan cheese but I knew I'd cry if I didn't like it, so I stuck to Akamaru Modern ($14). The Tonkotsu broth is topped with miso paste, pork chashu (which is simmered pork belly, unlike the Chinese char siu), scallions and fragrant garlic oil. A soy marinated soft boiled egg (nitamago) as an extra ($2) completed the bowl. The broth was deeply porky with a hint of sweetness from the reddish miso being stirred in. This was a seriously satisfying bowl, though I'd have liked the ramen noodles a bit thicker, a bit springier. Can we have an Ippudo in London please?



New York is famous for their bagels and one morning - fine, fine, afternoon - we headed up to David's Bagels. As we joined the queue we were greeted with a stunning array of bagel types so it only made sense to go for the Everything bagel. Studded with poppy seeds, sesame, onion flavourings and the like, it was served warm filled with lox and cream cheese ($8.50). It was stunning, really, like no other bagel I've had. Soft but not pappy, it held the filling well and was a far cry from those hard dry things we get in London. Pastrami and pickle-filled bagel ($6) was equally good. I suspect it's not even the best ever, but then I don't know much about them; we were nearby, hungry and it made me happy.

273 First Avenue (1st Ave. between E 15th St. & E 16th St.)

Since my first visit when I went to Torrisi Italian Specialities, things have changed and they have opened Parm, a more casual sandwich shop next door, devoting the main place to a more restaurant-like environment. I propped myself up at the bar and had an eggplant parm, served in a sweet semolina roll. I was still reeling from my ramen brunch, otherwise I'd have gone fully for the hero, a far larger affair. With slices of soft, juicy aubergine coated in gooey cheese, tomatoey sauce and sandwiched with basil leaves, the roll was perhaps a little oversweet to my liking but otherwise it was excellent, particularly for an aubergine obsessive. The Boy, a New York resident, has been addicted to the meatball parm for many weeks now and expressed disbelief at my choice. I am beginning to wonder about it myself. At $8 its not a cheap every day lunch but it makes a happy lunch.



So there ends the cheap eats. Are you still with me?

Fried Chicken

I don't know anyone who doesn't like fried chicken. I also don't know any vegans, so the two might be connected. Yeah yeah, I know everyone always slags off KFC and how disgusting they are but every now and again I get a deep, intense craving for the crunch of that deep fried crust, the overpowering saltiness and the guilty film of chicken fat. It is unbeatable.

In all its forms the chicken does well deep fried. Katsu'ing and dousing in curry sauce in the Japanese style is how I have it most often, but recently I've had dark thoughts about a filthier affair, one tinged with the tang of Frank's Hot Sauce. Buttery thoughts clouded my mind for days. A friend conducted an experiment in veganism and abstained from all things animal for a whole month and I taunted her with tales of my trips to meaty establishments. I felt like a pretty bad person, so as soon as her month of pain and woe was over I promised her wings. Lots and lots of wings covered in a silky, buttery sauce.

I couldn't stick to one format though. A whole dish of hot sauce-doused wings was one thing, but since we were going through the rigmarole of deep frying, I took the opportunity to try my hand at KFC, or rather Korean fried chicken. A hodge podge of ingredients were slung into bowls ready for the wings to emerge from their bathe in the hot oil to be finally doused in fire.

The coating of the flour makes sure the seasonings stick to the wings and the second frying, though monstrous for your health, give the wings that crisp exterior which is terribly crucial considering the next step of slathering them in sauce.

The frying took longer than I thought, maybe a good 20 - 25 minutes in total. Bear that in mind so that you're not handling saucepans full of shimmering oil and gawping at the TV like I was.

Fried Chicken

Serves 3 with sides - such as celery with blue cheese dip and other such artery cloggers

1 kg chicken wings
1 tsp onion salt
1 tsp paprika
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tsp dried oregano
2 tbsp plain flour

Snip the fleshiest piece of the wing away so that they are in two pieces. Toss with the ingredients above and leave for at least 3 hours. Heat up enough vegetable oil in a large saucepan or wok and fry the chicken wings in batches; remove when golden brown and drain on kitchen towel. Fry again until a deep caramel brown colour. Douse in the sauces as detailed below, and serve with kitchen towel and beers.


For the Buffalo Wings:

100ml Frank's Hot Sauce (I'm told you can buy this at Sainsburys now.)
100gr butter

Melt the butter. Mix it with Frank's hot sauce. There.

For the Korean Fried Chicken

3 tbsp gochujang (you can buy this in Chinatown)
3 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tsp sesame oil
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 inch of ginger, grated
1.5 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp sesame seeds

Mix the above together except the sesame seeds - these are for sprinkling on the chicken once coated.

Shaker & Company

One blustery freezing evening, I was invited to Shaker & Company to try out some cocktails and the food they serve alongside it. Located in a bit of no man's land-esque area in between Euston and Camden, it was the drinks that lured me in as it was opened by the people of Shaker BarSchool, renowned for training up world class bartenders.

We warmed our insides with a potato sack sour; I'm not sure what gives it its name, but the flavours of Aperol, lemon and peach shone through. The frothy top was made with adding egg white when it is being shaken, giving the drink a smooth lightness and you a foam moustache. A procession of dishes came from their Deep South-inspired menu, ranging from a Waldorf-ish salad to gumbo and jerk chicken wings, which were nothing of the sort, though still delicious in their breadcrumbed, barbecue sauce way.

The most expensive dish on the menu at £7 was this spicy jambalaya, packed full of chicken and prawns. Served in a deep urn, the rice was well cooked, the heat of the spices giving a good kick.

Though I really liked the soul fried chicken bites - come on, who doesn't love a bit of battered chicken? - my pick of the bunch was this tempura okra. Though the coating is a little thicker than most tempura I'm used to, I loved the sliminess of the okra nestled within the crunch of the batter. A smidge more salt and it'd have been perfect. I also became quite addicted to the sweet potato fries; crispy in places, soggy in others, they were delicious dunked in the spicy dip. Gourmet food this is not, but great for nibbling on over some heavy boozing.

Most unusual drink of the night was the 'Call Me the Milkman'. It looked like it would be soft and creamy, but was in fact quite the opposite and a bit of an acquired taste. Other drinks included a whiskey-based drink that tasted of Christmas, as well as hot toddies, all at £7.50.

No one goes out for just one cocktail though so we finished up the evening with the Dillionaire; the most orangey cocktail I've ever sipped. It was the very essence of orange.

I really enjoyed Shaker & Company and no doubt I'll be back given its close vicinity to work. Often cocktail bars are either too expensive (hello, Experimental Cocktail Club), too snooty or snobbish (hello, Experimental Cocktail Club) or just a bit crap but Shaker & Company have all the makings to be none of the above.

Shaker & Company

119 Hampstead Road
London
NW1 3EE

Tel: 020 7060 6877