Mike + Ollie at The Deptford Project

I first sampled Mike + Ollie's food at Brockley Market. A flatbread stuffed with mackerel was devoured within minutes, and the textures and flavours impressed me so much that afterwards I immediately booked into one of their dinners. Ours was hosted at The Deptford Project, a cafe in a train carriage, and we turned up on the night to find a long trestle table set out for our dinner.

A guitarist strummed away in the corner, creating a nice atmosphere though I was glad not to have been sat next to him as conversation with my friend would have been somewhat shouted. As we sipped on pear and elderflower cocktails, wooden planks were set between us and massive beetroot and quinces decorated the table. A square of bread topped with teeth-shatteringly crisp pork belly and a smear of quince whetted our appetites, while another square of bread was adorned with a smear of labneh (strained yoghurt) and a sweet, intensely earthy roasted beetroot on top.

Planks removed, they were re-presented to us a short while later. A dish I recognised from my flatbread wrap, the smoky mackerel and pickled rhubarb, again on top of a slice of bread, was a hit. Huge briny capers added a savoury edge. Pickled rhubarb is my new favourite thing.

Bone marrow with roasted garlic and a shallot, parsley and caper salad was served with bread fried in beef dripping. Michael cried 'this is the last of the bread, I promise!' but that home made stuff was so good I didn't mind. I slathered the wobbly marrow on and topped it with the refreshing salad, garlic cloves staining my breath. My jeans grew tight. That burgery lunch at Meat Liquor was catching up with me.

We had a break and a cute apple stuffed with sorbet followed. The iced essence of apple gave me a second wind, and rather than fearful of the next dish and my straining waistband, I looked forward to it. A plate of vibrant greens was garnished with ruby pink slices of pigeon and dressed with a rosehip molasses. Mike+Ollie are really keen on foraging locally, and the rosehips were picked nearby. The greens were a mix of both herbs and salad leaves, making each mouthful different and complimenting the pigeon well.

Dessert came in the form of another stuffed fruit, this time Seville marmalade ice cream into an orange. The ice cream was studded with marmalade chunks and the creaminess tasted faintly of coconut. Accompanying this, we were given a glass of sloe gin - a bit rough, we were warned, as it hadn't reached full maturity yet. Sipping it made us wince.

We were fed hugely well for £25 a head. Though it wasn't the most refined meal I've had, I loved it for it's inventiveness; cooked well and lots of lovely pickled bits, crunchy nuts and flavours I'm not used to. The wooden planks were a nuisance to lift to and from the tables, but gosh they were pretty. You can find Mike+Ollie in Brockley and Deptford markets, but I strongly recommend you go for one of their dinners too.

Tickets and booking information HERE.

Quo Vadis, Soho

Jeremy Lee's new position as head chef at the newly refurbished Quo Vadis has been all the talk recently. Previously at Blueprint Cafe, he moved just after Christmas. Reports came in with rapt admiration of his simple, pared down cooking in plusher surroundings.

I received an invitation to dinner there with Wine Chap and others to celebrate the new chef appointment, an offer you'd be mad to refuse. I've only been to Quo Vadis in casual circumstances - a drink in the bar, or a plate of oysters before moving on - so I don't really have any point of comparison. They make a mean martini though, and snacks of salsify baked and sprinkled with a strong, sharp cheese (£3.50) reinforced my thoughts that salsify is a vehicle, not much of a flavour in its own right but a great texture nonetheless for delivering delicious cheese into my face.

Most talked about on the new menu is the smoked eel and horseradish sandwich (£6.50). Plump juicy rounds of dense meat is served in between toasted slices of bread, spread liberally with creamy horseradish.

Vibrantly pink pickled onions had just the right sharpness to counteract the delicately smoked, richly flavoured flesh. The horseradish packed such a nose-clearing punch that I got a momentary mustard head - you know, when your sinuses burn and sting and you're rendered speechless. It's quite addictive, that. Anyway, it was an absolutely smashing sandwich. I was only sad that I had to share it.

Bloater paste (£4) was rather too strongly flavoured for me, but I absolutely loved the smooth anchovy paste, more like a mayonnaise and served with a sweet brioche bun for dunking.

Salted mallard (£6) salad was really gamey. I'm not usually a fan of game and my nose wrinkled, but when paired with the peppery watercress and the prune compote it was far mellower with the sweetness of the fruit balancing out the strong flavour.

The pescetarian on the table got a dish that made us all laugh at its sparsity. What we originally thought was celery turned out to be sea kale (£8.50), cooked to just tender and bathed in a gloriously lemon-yellow butter sauce. It may not look like much but the delicate flavours were perfectly balanced, the sauce decadent.

The main event arrived to gasps around the table. A roasted shoulder of kid was large and resplendent. Meat was pulled off the bones and dished onto plates along with creamy tender white beans in a green herby sauce. The meat was tender and not dissimilar in flavour to lamb. Courgettes were roasted with whole onions, their moisture releasing and creating its' own juice. These were no fancy plates, but decent, hearty stuff of which Lee is well known for. He came out to our table to greet us and others in the room, oozing enthusiasm and charm that was already evident from his twitter stream.

A cheese course arrived but I was too stuffed to attack it with much fervour, and just a nibble of Stichelton on an oatcake did me. Desserts were numerous and plenty, ranging from rhubarb compote to a fudgy chocolate cake. Pick of the bunch was this fruity number. I'm afraid that even the day after I've forgotten what it is. Rather than a reflection on the dish, I suspect the cocktails must've caught up with me.

We hauled ourselves back up to the bar and smashed back a few more martinis. I called it a night after we'd sang a rousing number of Hey Jude while one of our party tinkled it on the resident piano; it was home time.

I left Quo Vadis feeling like I'd had a big hug. The food was a mixture of eye popping (that eel sandwich) and comforting (those herby beans). We did a fair bit of gawping too, at not only Ralph Fiennes dining there but also Fergus Henderson. At prices that are completely reasonable, not something I'd previously associate Quo Vadis with, I will be back there soon.

Quo Vadis

26 - 29 Dean Street

London W1D 3LL

Tel: 020 7437 9585

More photos from the night are HERE. I dined as a guest of Quo Vadis and Wine Chap.

Pizarro, Bermondsey Street

I fell completely in love with the informal tapas bar, Jose, that Jose Pizarro first opened. Small and bustling, it was sweaty and uncomfortable at high summer, standing at the bar nibbling on things and necking sherry. It was busy and frantic but they served the best goddamn prawns I've eaten.

Mere months later, Pizarro has opened on the same street. Same man, but actual tables and chairs for you to eat at. We visited on the last day of the soft opening, and 5 minutes before opening time there was already a small crowd of people formed.

The menu was split off into starters and mains, but we're greedy so we ordered a selection to share. The boquerones with black olives and roasted red peppers came with an unadvertised vivid soft boiled egg - my opening picture has not been doctored - perched upon a slice of toast. This was oustanding, the richness of the egg binding the slightly vinagered anchovy with the red pepper. It was a classic example of a simple dish made great by well sourced ingredients.

Ham croquetas were just as they are at Jose - SEXY. How does he make them? The slightest suggestion of pressure reduced them to a creamy puddle in your mouth / plate, while still retaining crunch on the outside. The man is a genius.

Quail with Romesco sauce arrived with its legs crossed looking like it was dying for a wee. It could have benefited from a crisper skin, but nevertheless the tiny bird was juicy and well seasoned. The Romesco sauce was nutty and suitably chunky.

I don't often see cauliflower as a main ingredient on menus, which is what prompted us to order this. I think the florets were lightly pickled and it worked well with sprigs of thyme, chard and a goaty soft cheese. The walnuts were intensely flavoured and brought a richness to the dish. I imagine this would work just as well with beetroot.

These prawns were the best I'd had when I was at Jose, and this time round they were fancified with a few slivers of Serrano ham. I'd have preferred the prawns a little more drenched in garlic butter or oil but then that thought was banished as the fatty ham also brought out the sweetness of the prawns. Dark reddish brown head juices oozed out and were sucked greedily out for extra intensity. Thus ended our procession of starters.

The Secreto Iberico (pork fillet) was mildly disappointing when it was brought out. Strips of pork cooked through were splayed on a mound of olive oil mash. While it was certainly enjoyable, especially the fatty bits, I was expecting swathes of meat cooked to medium like the pluma Iberico is served at Jose. Perhaps I've been spoilt but had I paid full price at £15.50 I'd have probably got a sulk on.

Hake with black cabbage and clams was also disappointing as only three clams, one of which was closed, were in the dish. The fish could have done with less cooking but the new potatoes that came in the sauce were sweet and flavoursome.

Onto desserts, our pear sorbet in Cava had us in raptures. A single thread of saffron bobbed about in the liquid and as we slurped up the contents, flavours ranged from apricot to peach and finally turned into a pear slush puppy.

Chocolate with caramel ice cream and toast was similarly gorgeous and we amused ourselves with making ice cream sandwiches. The olive oil drizzled about the plate gave it an extra dimension, though we remarked that if the size of the smaller ice cream ball and the chocolate ball were to be switched it would be ideal; that chocolate is serious.

The room itself was packed to the brim with people waiting in the bar area when we left, though it never sounded noisy at any time. A nice bustle and warmth came from the open bar and Jose Pizarro himself, known for frequently being present at Jose, was there asking us if our food was ok. Though not everything was perfect, they were in soft opening and I am looking forward to visiting again when they reach their stride.

Pizarro

194 Bermondsey Street,
London, SE1 3TQ

Opening Times: Restaurant 12 – 3 p.m. then 6 – 11 p.m. Bar open all day

No reservations

Le Gavroche

Le Gavroche is one of those places that I never thought I'd visit. Michel Roux Jr.'s 2 Michelin starred place aint cheap; especially for the tasting menu with matching wines. So when American Express offered to treat me to a meal there I, naturally, jumped at the chance. So if you've got an American Express card, you can also book a table here and at many others via Top Treats, which earns you lots of lovely rewards and points when booking through them.

The dining room, in the basement of the building is heavily upholstered and seemed vaguely Scottish to me. Red and green were the dominant colours, and we slotted ourselves into our table to begin the feast. A glass of Champagne relaxed our work-weary shoulders. First up, teriyaki cod came with bonito flakes lightly waving as our plates were set down. A rice cake, flavoured with curry was stabbed with the crunchiest piece of cod skin. The fish flaked apart beautifully, the sweet sauce deeply tinged with soy. A tangle of leaves hid impossibly thin slices of crisp beetroot.

Next, a scallop dish was garnished with lemon zest at the table. Squid ink-stained tapioca almost fooled us into thinking it was caviar, while a parsley puree brought out the flavours of the sea.

I am a huge fan of sweetcorn but you don't often see it on high-end menus. It came with grilled langoustine and crispy chicken wing; a gorgeous balance of sweet and salty flavours. Buttery lemon sauce lubricated each mouthful well.

Double cheese souffle cooked in double cream. WOW. When I first saw it on the menu my eyes widened; they did again as soon as I took a bite. Each mouthful was like biting into a cheesy cloud. We were gleeful. So rich, so cheesy, so creamy and yet so light. I woke up the next day and subsequently spent much of my time thinking about this.

A slab of foie gras was accompanied by confit duck leg stuffed into a pancake, dusted with icing sugar and with a cinnamon sauce. While my foie gras was cooked perfectly with a gorgeous crust and smooth, creamy innards, my companion didn't fare so well; her foie gras was mealy. This was mega rich and needed something tart to lift it. A sweet Banyuls wine helped things along.

Red leg partridge was well cooked, but I find it difficult to be blown away by the bird - it just tastes like chicken to me. Sorry. The little leg hiding behind the breast was beautifully crisp and succulent though.

A huge cheese trolley was wheeled out and our knowledgable waitress chose well for us. We had to ask for more sturdy receptacles though as the wafer-thin slices offered to us crumbled upon impact.

Finally, a tart tatin terrified us; we were imagining huge dishes of pastry drenched in caramel, but this little number was just the right size. Buttery flaky pastry had softened slices of apple nestled within.

I'd love to be able to tell you all about the wines, but I'm afraid my memory isn't that good. Our neighbouring table sent us a bottle of wine to enjoy as well - apparently stockbrokers are very generous - which only served to add to the wine haze. But I do remember they all worked very well indeed.

We staggered off into the night, fearful of our over-extended bellies. Halfway to the tube station we decided we couldn't take it; a cab was flagged and we flopped ourselves in, windows open, eyes rolling to head home south east. It was an epic experience; no one should be deprived of that cheese souffle.

Le Gavroche

43 Upper Brook Street
London W1K 7QR

Tel: 020 7408 0881

The Ledbury - Part 3

It's always a relief to find that after the dizzying excitement of the first time you fell in love with a restaurant, the third visit is just as good. The Ledbury is my favourite restaurant in London and the third lunch we had there was just as stunning as the second and first. After a glass of fizz, these goats cheese canapes topped with black olive tapenade foretold the meal to come; deliciously delicate and it got the mouth watering for more.

From the £33.50 set lunch menu, a raviolo stuffed with grouse and pheasant was sauced by a brown bread veloute, nestled on strands of cabbage and topped with little vibrant purple berries. The gaminess of the meat was subtle, but there. Mushrooms added an autumnal depth to the plate.

Sea bass was nice and crispy, giving way to tender white flakes. In a lightly curried sauce, the florets had been roasted to a dust and had the intense flavour of broccoli. Our waitress had misheard us and so our companion was given the wrong dish; her face flushed with embarrassment but we were the real winners, as the dish was left for us to share rather than it going to waste. Cod with confit squid was very clever indeed; the squid was shaved into thin, translucent strands and were just like pho-style noodles.

Excellently kept cheeses were well matched on fig and walnut bread. Later, when we queried the bill as they'd seemingly forgotten the cheeses, they told us it was with their compliments; along with some decent wines by the glass, they more than made up for their earlier blunder.

Vanilla and prune custard tart with pear sorbet had us all cooing over it. It had an amazingly smooth texture to it, the pastry impossibly thin and crisp.

Coffee and petit fours soon followed, and we rolled out into the night, a good 4 hours after we sat down, vowing to return at least three times next year.

The Ledbury

127 Ledbury Road,
Notting Hill,
London W11 2AQ

Tel: +44 (0) 20 7792 9090

Wood Pigeon Breast with Sherry & Onion Sauce

Bit of a long-winded title, that one. Last weekend, I made arrangements to visit my local farmers' market. In my area I have access to a different farmers' market every weekend, but the Telegraph Hill Market, held every third Saturday of the month, from 10am to 4pm is a mere 5 or 10 minute walk from my flat.

The market is small but perfectly formed. A well stocked fish stall (well, it was at 11am), a veg stall, meat and a game seller. There was also a coffee van and a bread stall where I picked up a lovely olive ciabatta, and the obligatory stall selling marinated olives. What more could you want? Actually, I was a bit upset that the veg stall didn't have any new season asparagus, one of the only reasons why I'd bothered to get my backside out of bed so early, but disappointment was quickly blown away by the wood pigeon breasts I'd spotted. Initially I hopped from back to forth - diced venison? - wood pigeon? - wild rabbit? But £5.25 for 8 breasts proved too much of a bargain for me and I snapped them up.

I've only had wood pigeon once before, at Christmas. As I remembered, it was best cooked to rare, and it's lightly gamey flavour might work well with something fruity.

So here's what I came up with. The onion and sherry sauce was great - slightly tart, a hint of sweetness from the sherry and the onions, but with an underlying savoury tone. It turns into a sticky, unctuous jam down to the slow cooking and accompanied the pigeon well.

Wood Pigeon Breast with Sherry & Onion Sauce

Serves 1

2 wood pigeon breasts
1 onion, silced into half rings finely
A good glug of sherry - maybe about 4 tbsp
1 tbsp pomegranate molasses

In a non-stick pan, fry the onions very slowly (i.e. on a very low heat) until soft and slightly caramelised. This takes roughly 15 - 20 minutes. Add the sherry and simmer for 5 minutes, then add the pomegranate molasses and turn down low. Add a pinch of salt.

Meanwhile, heat up another non stick frying pan until quite hot. Oil the pigeon breasts and add to the pan. Sear for about a minute on each side, season with salt and pepper and then leave to rest under the foil for at least 10 minutes. To serve, slice the pigeon breasts diagonally against the grain and spoon the onion and sherry sauce over it. I served it with new potatoes boiled, then fried in oil and thyme with some purple sprouting broccoli, simply steamed.

Rabbit in a Cream & Mustard Sauce

I used to have a pet rabbit. Thankfully I can't remember what it was called, and so I wasn't in any way squeamish about cooking this bunny up. I spotted a wild rabbit, already skinned and portioned, for sale in Borough Market for a mere £5. I immediately snapped it up, and set about cooking it. Of course, I didn't have a recipe in mind when I bought it but having a quick squizz around inspired this.

Rabbits need long and slow cooking, especially the wild ones. I wanted some sort of rich and robust stew, but also I wanted flavours suited especially to rabbit; sometimes stew can be a bit generic.

This is a really rich dish - I cooked the usual pasta for two but we were properly stuffed afterwards, so I'd suggest a smaller portion (shock horror). Due to the long cooking times, the overnight rest and the resultant rich stock, this was one seriously tasty pasta sauce; especially given the relatively simple ingredients.

Rabbit in a Cream & Mustard Sauce

Serves 3

1 wild rabbit, jointed

3 carrots, diced

1 large onion, diced

3 cloves of garlic, minced

3 sticks of celery, chopped roughly

1/2 a pint of white wine

1/2 a pint of chicken stock

2 bay leaves

A handful of peppercorns

250gr noodles (dry weight), like fettucine

100ml double cream

2 tbsp wholegrain mustard

Large handful of flat-leaf parsley

1 lemon

In a large saucepan, sweat the onion, garlic, carrot and celery for 20 mins. Dust the rabbit portions in seasoned flour and brown in a non-stick frying pan. Add to the carrot mixture, then add the bay leaves and peppercorns. Add the stock, white wine and a tsp of salt, then bring to a boil. Turn it down to a gentle simmer and cook for a good 3 or 4 hours. Check that it isn't dry - add more chicken stock if it is.

Leave to cool (I left it overnight) and take the rabbit pieces out and take the meat off the bones. Set to one side. Reheat the sauce so that it loosens up a bit, then in a fine sieve, sieve the vegetables off. You should get a rich stock coming through the sieve. Smoosh (yes, technical term) the mixture with a wooden spoon until you're sure you got all the goodness out of it, then discard the vegetable pulp. Add the meat back in and warm gently. Add the double cream and simmer for 10 or 15 minutes until thickened slightly. Slop in the mustard, serve well, and toss with pasta, garnishing with a LOT of chopped parsley and served with a wedge of lemon. Don't forget the black pepper.