Lola Rojo: Living la vida so-so

78 Northcott Road

Clapham, SW11 6QL

tel: +44 (0)20 7350 2262

I used to dread meeting friends who were local Clapham-ites. Up until a few years ago, without fail, they would always suggest meeting in the dreadful meat-market that is the Slug and Lettuce directly beside Clapham Junction. But luckily, things have changed. Northcote Road, just a hop away from the station has become a bone-fide destination for foodies with its excellent independent cafes, butchers, and food stalls selling everything from fresh fish to cupcakes to organic bread baked that very morning. In recent years, some great restaurants have opened their doors too, including the Draft House, which serves a stunning array of hard-to-find beers and some of the best burgers in town.  Just a few doors down, is Lola Rojo, a modern Spanish tapas restaurant with IKEA-like interiors. It was opened in 2006 by husband/wife team Antonio Belles and Cristina Garcia. They've since expanded with a new branch in Fulham. So, something must have worked.

To be honest, it's no surprise. The tapas is fairly no-fail stuff, pretty hard to screw up. Take for example, the above: padron peppers with sea salt (£4.50). I make these at home all the time. All you have to do is fry the suckers in some good olive oil until slightly blackened and then sprinkle liberally with sea salt. Hard to screw up, yes? Well, apparently not. Lola Rojo served the padrons with some nondescript yellow sauce, but forgot the sea salt all together. It wasn't a good start. But while the peppers disappointed, the service did not.  A bubbly young waitress from Valencia told us how she had trained as a pharmacist in Spain, but came to London after she calculated that she could earn far more money waiting tables.  She was very sweet and was eager to recommend her favourite plates of tapas.

They included: marinated Seville olives (£2.20); prawns aioli (£5.75); fried chorizo with green lentils (£4.95); traditional Spanish omelette with romesco sauce (£5.20) and lamb cutlets with potato, paprika and spinach (£7.50). That was nice of her. But I'm going to be dead honest here. The only one of these plates which made me pause in admiration...were the olives. The OLIVES. When you go to a restaurant and the best thing you have is the olives, you know it ain't good. The other plates were skimpy and under-seasoned. I nearly sent back my joke of a lamb-cutlet, which was no bigger than mint leaf. In fact, I'm still kicking myself that I didn't. The Spanish omelette was bland and lukewarm. Even the romesco sauce couldn't save its sorry soul. The garlic prawns were okay. The chorizo was hideously overcooked. After every mouthful, I wanted to wash it all away. But to add to the misery, the house white wine was ridiculously sweet. It is a bloody miracle I did what I did next. I ordered dessert.

Enter the monstrosity that was arroz con leche, lemon jelly and cinnamon ice cream (£5). This was truly, the most disgusting pudding I have ever had. The texture reminded me of throwing up something and then holding it in my mouth and swallowing it again. The gloops of lemon jelly were putrid. The cold slimy rice tasted like something they might serve in prison. The cinnamon ice cream was okay - but unlucky for it, it was paired with the grossest combination in the history of desserts. Thank Jesus H Christ I ordered the suggested dessert wine: the Marti Fabra Garnatxa (£5). That was the best thing all night. I needed it like a baby needs its blankie - to help me forget the bad meal and soothe me to sleep. But the rude awakening came with the bill - over £80 for two of us. I wanted to pull a runner rather than reward the mediocracy that was Lola Rojo. Suffice to say, I won't be returning anytime soon. 

Moro: Deliciousness squared

34-36 Exmouth Market, EC1R 4QE

tel: +44 (0)20 7833 8336

Usually I write my reviews in chronological order, but just this time, let's begin at the end of the night first. The party of six of us gleefully watched the waitress open a bottle of Pedro Ximenex sherry. We did not need to be consuming any more alcohol, as we had already polished off a bottle of bubbles and three bottles of wine between us. But we drank anyway because we were celebrating the birthday of a good friend and then end of a FANTASTIC dinner. Cigars followed the sherry, and hangovers followed the next day. It was a fabulous night and all of us rolled out of the restaurant feeling happy, well fed and well drunk. So back to the beginning. We started with a bottle of Spanish cava which was deliciously fresh and dry. Though our menus boasted mouth-watering starters such as jamon with fresh figs (£8.50) and pan fried morcilla with broad beans and mint (£8.50), our group opted for the tapas menu for more of a round-robin nibble. Highlights included the fried chorizo (£4.50) which was rich and oozing with lovely red oils, babagahoush (£4) which went down a treat on the fresh sourdough bread and the piquillo peppers (£4) which were perfectly salted and had just the right amount of bite.

For the mains, we went back to the dinner menu. I chose the seared wild salmon (above) with green alioli, new potatoes and grilled courgette salad (£19.50). The salmon was a beautiful light pink on the inside and crispy golden brown on the outside. The green alioli was the perfect compliment and stole the show. After I had mopped up my salmon in the basil and garlic goodness, I desperately wanted just a little bit more to rub my new potatoes in. The courgettes were chargrilled just right and I sat back in total satisfaction, having eaten one of the best meals in recent memory. My fellow diners were also raving about their mains. To my left, a Montrealer was polishing off a charcoal grilled lamb with fried marrow, farika, almonds and seasoned yoghurt (£18.50). To my right, another handsome Canadian (ahem, my fiance) was picking carefully through a plate of chargrilled sardines with chopped salad and corn migas (£17.50), pictured at top of page. It looked a little finicky, but he assured me it was worth every bite. Not one of us had a single bad word to say. The service was brilliant too - attentive, knowledgeable and very friendly. Not wanting the night to end, we nodded dreamily at offers of dessert. 

The chocolate and apricot tart (£5.50) sent me into a small pleasure coma. Eyes closed, I took a moment to appreciate the richness of quality dark chocolate with just the teeniest hint of apricot. The side of fresh cream was a surprise bonus. If I had another stomach, I would have also ordered the yoghurt cake with pistachios and pomegranate (£5.50) as the combination of flavours was divine and felt like a real celebration of summer. And then came the bottle of sherry...and the rest gets a little fuzzy. But, from start to finish, Moro was a total treat. Run by married chef couple Sam and Sam Clark, the whole experience is deliciousness squared.

Iberica: the Juan and only

195 Great Portland Street, W1W 5PS

tel: +44 (0)20 7636 8650

"Do you want to taste some of the best tapas in London?" a friend from Madrid recently asked. Well golly. That's a tough one. "Of course," I replied. "Great, I'll bring some Spanish friends along too." How exciting. You know that old rule of thumb that if you walk past a Chinese restaurant and there are REAL CHINESE PEOPLE inside, then you conclude it must be good? Same principle applies with REAL SPANISH PEOPLE and tapas bars. So, off we trekked to Iberica on Great Portland Street. The theory didn't disappoint. My fella and I were the first to arrive on a sunny Saturday afternoon. I smiled at the waiter and said, "hello, we have a table booked under the name of Juan, please." The waiter raised an eyebrow, and looked around the restaurant before returning his eyes to mine. "There are a lot of Juans here," he whispered. "Which Juan are you looking for?". I was about to give me knee a good slap and retort with "good Juan!" when I realised he was dead serious. And so I too glanced around the restaurant. All the men looked tanned, dark haired and mucho Spanish. All very Juan-like. Luckily our Juan has a long-ish surname and we were able to figure out which table was ours. We bellied up to the bar to wait for the Spaniards. I ordered a lovely white Albarino, while the Mister had a gorgeous tempranillo from Mallorca. As we were polishing off our glasses, Juan (yes, the right Juan) and two other lovely Spanish ladies arrived. We pushed our menus their way and said, "you do the ordering." And so one of the most satisfying, filling meals of our lives began.

We began with a selection of Spanish cheeses with quince (£10). The only one I recognised was the manchego, but my eyes were opened to a rather beautiful Spanish blue cheese. We also had a couple bowls of green padron peppers with rock salt (£6.40) and bread with olive oil that I would have been happy to drink directly out of the bottle. We ordered a few favourites: traditional Spanish omelette (£6.40), ham croquettes (£6) and patatas brava with aioli (£5.50). But the star tapas that stole the show: the fried chorizo lollipops with pear aioli (pictured at top, £5). After that, the rest of the meal was a blur. Somewhere amongst the haze of food, I remember liking the black risotto with cuttlefish and prawns and some incredible fried squid. And then, just as I thought I might have to have a siesta under the table, Juan announced that dessert was mandatory and incredibly Spanish.

Introducing (above) one of the tastiest treats ever: fried milk. I'm sure there is an elegant Spanish name for these beauties, but I was too in awe to remember it. It may have been the fact that I had too much vino blanco, but I could not comprehend how on earth you fried milk into solid squares. Quantum physics aside, they are delicious treats. It was only when the bill came and we gasped at the fact that it was £233 for five that we fully understood the spell that Iberica had put us under. If you don't get carried away, this is the perfect place to share a few  plates of tapas. For my money (err, Visa) it's as close to Spain as you can get in London. 

Angels & Gypsies: Heavenly tapas

29-33 Camberwell Church Street SE5 8TR
tel: +44 (0)20 7703 5984

One reviewer dubbed it, "the best tortilla this side of Spain." Another called it "Camberwell's first destination eatery." I would add: "The most enormous tapas you'll ever eat." Angels & Gypsies is attached to the very chic, boutique Latin-themed Church Street Hotel. If you're walking down Camberwell Church Street you won't be able to miss it. It's the only trendy-looking joint amongst a sea of Chicken King, KFC and dodgy shops selling cheap mobile phone SIM cards. Inside, you get a warm welcome from a gaggle of waiters: one of whom takes your coat, another who pours your water, and one more who asks what you'd like to drink before you've even laid eyes on the wine list. It's sweet, but you kind of get the feeling that Angels & Gypsies is still trying to find its wings. The mega-keen vibe doesn't stop at the staff. The menu offers an incredible choice of 43 plates of tapas. It was a bit overwhelming. My dashing dining companion remarked, "Good lord! There's almost too much choice." 

 

After much humming and hawing, we decided on five plates: king gambas with a piquillo pepper vinaigrette; slow roast pork belly with rum plum jam and cox apple salad (pictured above); lavender and rosemary rubbed lamb cutlets a la plancha with roasted garlic aioli; slow cooked aubergine and coriander stew and the classic tortilla. All were delicious. All were humungous. Herewith lies the great conundrum of Angels & Gypsies: you feel lucky to be getting so much bang for your buck; but you are too stuffed to try more than five plates. Ahem, that said, we managed to make room for desserts. All in the name of research, peoples. I chose the pistachio and almond tart with vanilla pod ice cream (pictured at the very top). Holy demons it was rich. It was divine, but three words: Way. Too. Much.

My lovely companion opted for the above: chocolate mousse cake with a hint of honey and cinnamon. If it had been a dessert competition, hers would have won. But again, it was so rich, and so huge that her forkfuls started approaching slow-motion, halfway through. Saving the best for last, what Angels & Gypsies gets five stars for is the wine. We chose a £16 bottle of rioja which went perfectly with everything on our plates. With desert, I died and went to heaven with a glass of 2006 Castana Monastrell Dulce dessert wine, while on the other side of the table, hums of pleasure were made with a 30-year-old sweet sherry. The most hilarious moment of the evening came when we asked the waiter to send over a glass of dessert wine to a friend who was having a romantic birthday dinner with her husband on the other side of the restaurant. We were horrified when the waiter mistakenly put the glass down in front of the wrong couple and nodded in our direction. The young lady gave us a blushing smile of confusion, while her boyfriend got the wrong idea and gave us an over-enthusiastic thumbs up. When we told the waiter that he had delivered to the wrong table, he too was horrified, albeit very sweet and he sprinted back to the bar, re-poured and re-delivered to the correct address. It was very funny. Back out in the cacophony of cars and sirens of Camberwell Church Street, we agreed that maybe Angels & Gypsies had a clever tactic: give people too much choice and huge portions, so they'll want to come back and try what they couldn't fit in the first time. A devilish plot, that just might work.