da Polpo: Mad for Meatballs

6 Maiden Lane, WC2E 7NA

tel: +44 (0)20 7836 8448

That Russell Norman. He's on a roll. First he opened Poplo in Soho. Crowds flocked for the Venetian tapas (aka cicheti) and it was rammed to the rafters for months. Then Polpetto, above the French House, opened as a smaller more intimate venue to munch on pizzetta, zucchini fries and crispy soft shell crab. Then came the Brooklyn-style diner Spuntino which restaurant critic Jay Rayner dubbed a "shameless act of cultural larceny executed with love." And finally, we get da Polpo. Just opened across the street from my most un-favourite pub in London, the dreadful ode to Canadian stereotypes: The Maple Leaf. 

I've been to Polpo; I've been to Polpetto and liked them both very much. So I admit to being a bit skeptical that da Polpo could offer any surprises. All three restaurants share a few of the same menu items. For instance, the pizzetta bianca (£4.50) - a tomato-free pizza baked with olive oil, salt and rosemary - appears at each restaurant. So, what could da Polpo offer that was new and exciting? We decided to put our full trust in our lovely, friendly waitress Carmen and asked her to start us off with some of her favorites. 

Out came two grilled fennel and white anchovy cicheti (£2 each) and two arancini (£2.50) - a Sicilian specialty of fried riceballs, coated with breadcrumbs. Between the two, the fennel and anchovies excited my palate most. The saltiness of the fish combined with the sweetness of the fennel made for a tasty little combo. I asked Carmen whether she would recommend the pizzetta bianca, seeing as it was one of their signature dishes. "No! That's boring! I'll bring you something much more exciting." Oh, how I do love an honest waitress.

Enter the grilled mortadella, gorgonzola and picked radicchio pizzette (£6). So yum. The radicchio added a nice vinegary bite which was offset by the creaminess of the cheese and garlic kick of the sausage. The flatbread was perfectly grilled, with a crisp crust and fluffy base. Really one of my favorite dishes of the meal. I only wish I had ordered a whole one for myself.

Another simple, yet stunningly good dish was the heritage tomato salad (£5). Whenever I got to America, restaurants seem to go gaga for it (though they call it heirloom tomato salad) but I don't often see it on this side of the Atlantic. The tomatoes were so ripe, fresh and tasty. From what I can remember, it was served with good olive oil, some sprinkles of basil and sea salt. Simple and delicious. 

Now where da Polpo stands out from its sister restaurants - is the meatballs. There's a choice of six different flavors. We went for the lamb and mint. At £5 for three, we were impressed by the portion size. They were incredibly juicy and moorish. After tweeting about them, I got a great tip from fellow food bloggers @donalde and @faerietalefoody. They told me if you can't decide on the array of flavors, you can ask them for a mash-up of different ones. Had I known that, I'd have also ordered the balls of chickpea, spinach and ricotta or spicy pork and fennel. Next time...

It would have been rude not to sample a seafood and meat dish from the menu, so we chose chilli and garlic prawns (£6.50) and the grilled thin-cut sirloin (£8.50). As a gal who doubles the recommended garlic in any given recipe, I was pleased to taste the generous garlic givings on the prawns. The steak, however, was my least favorite dish of the meal. The seasoning was kept very simple, with a lemon and maybe some olive oil. Normally I'm a fan of bare naked steaks, but this needed just a little something else. What? Not sure, but I wasn't blown out of the water.

What did knock my socks off and jolt me back out of my da Polpo pleasure stupor was an affogato al cafe - a tiny scoop of vanilla ice cream or gelato, drowned in a shot of espresso (£2.50). 

Had I not insisted on ordering one thing from every category on the menu, I may have had room for the Nutella pizzetta (£5.50) or the pot of tiramisu (£4.50). The good news is, da Polpo is open seven days a week so I can see myself popping back often for bits and bites of chicheti and meatballs. Of the three Polpos - I'd recommend da Polpo for the tasty meatballs, Polpetto for the romantic atmosphere and the original Polpo for a girl's night out and a nip down to the basement for Campari cocktails.

NOPI: Bloody good brunch

21 Warwick Street, W1B 5NE

tel: +44 (0)20 7494 9584

One of my favorite things to do on a Sunday morning is wander lazily into the kitchen, still in my pajamas, make a cup of Earl Grey tea, flop on the couch and flip through Yotam Ottolenghi's newest cookbook Plenty. With it's soft white cover and silky pages filled with gorgeous photos, it's one of the favorite books on my shelves. I like to call it my kitchen porn.

Even though, I've been an avid reader of Ottolenghi's weekly column in the Guardian, and have tried lots of his recipes, I've never actually eaten at one of his restaurants. That changed on Easter Sunday, when I made my first visit to his newest digs: NOPI. It stands for North of Piccadilly and is located on an obscure side street in Soho beside the posh Sanctum Hotel where the cheapest room will set you back £230 a night. Similarly, NOPI ain't cheap. I booked a table for brunch after many bloggers, including one of my faves - LondonEater commented on the hefty price tag of lunch and dinner. 

Just like Plenty, NOPI is quite beautiful. The white and gold interior was quite Miami Vice-ish. I didn't get a picture, but the mirrored maze in the toilets downstairs is something to behold. Be sure you take a trip to the loo. I vote it the most beautiful toilet in London. But much more importantly, the food is beautiful too. I decided on the chorizo, chickpea stew with a fried egg (£8.50). I admit, my first impression was disappointment. I forked through four small pieces of chorizo and felt a bit ripped off. But tucking in, I was wrong. The flavors were enormous and in the end, the portion was perfect. The sourdough toast it laid on was crispy on the surface and soft in the middle. The chickpeas were cooked in a gorgeous herby tomato sauce. The chorizo, divinely spicy and rich.

I thought my dish was the winner, but as it turned out, my husband's was. The young, bubbly waitress proudly put down a dish of shakshuka (£8.50) in front of him. On the menu, it's described as a "North African dish of braised eggs with pepper and tomato" and I recognised it from Plenty. The flavors were instantly foreign and evocative of our honeymoon where we could see Morocco from our balcony from the southernmost tip of Spain. Hints of cumin, onions, thyme and saffron mixed with creamy poached eggs tickled the palate. 

We started with strong Americano coffees but finished with Bloody Marys. These were one of the highlights of the entire brunch. They were a cut above any other breakfast vodka I've had - ever. I became obsessed and tried to sweet-talk one of the waiters into giving me the recipe. He shook his head, wagged his finger and said, "no chance." I jotted down some giddy notes on the ingredients I could spot: basil, fresh tomatoes, cucumber, lemon, celery and lots of vodka. I got home and tweeted @ottolenghi, begging him for the recipe. No luck; no response. I suppose I can't blame him. When you've got something great, keep the mystique going and the punters coming.

Fat Boy's Diner: Fries and Kitsch-up

Trinity Buoy Wharf, 64 Orchard Place, E14 0JW

tel: +44 (0)207 987 4334

God bless America. Land of the free, home of the brave and birthplace of the diner. Greasy burgers, thick milkshakes and fried onion rings - what's not to love? It's no wonder the concept has travelled. In this case - all the way to the banks of the Thames in London's Docklands. Fatboy's Diner is a bit of a slog to get to (our route took us on the DLR to East India Quay then via an urban bird sanctuary) but worth it for the sheer kitsch. The mobile trailer was built in New Jersey in 1941 and has been featured in the film Sliding Doors and various shoots for Vogue. Inside a faded certificate hangs crookedly on the wall. It reads: "Voted London's Best Restaurant."

Forgive me, but I find it very hard to believe that Fat Boy's Diner was EVER voted the Best Restaurant in London. Most Unique, yes. Best Decor, sure. Quirkiest Restaurant, maybe. But food-wise, it just doesn't cut the mustard. The best thing about Fat Boy's is the milkshakes. There's chocolate, strawberry, vanilla and banana - all for £2.45. They are thick, creamy and huge - served in a giant metal cup.

Fat Boy's scores points too for creativity in naming menu items.  Mustard = yellow paint. Lettuce = rabbit food. Fried onions = brown bad breath. I went for a Plus Two which encompassed a "giant Fatburger topped with crispy Canadian bacon and choice of Swiss or American cheese" for £3.95 and a side order of chips. The chips were sprinkled with seasoning salt, which I liked. The burger on the other hand...not so good. The patty tasted like it came straight from a box. It was overcooked and rubbery. Even the nice slice of Canadian bacon couldn't save it from being downright gross.

The good thing about Fat Boy's is that everything is dirt cheap. Two of us ate burgers, chips, onion rings (tasty) and drank shakes for under 20 quid. I wouldn't rush back for the food, but the atmosphere is pretty darn cool. After lunch, we went for a little wander in Trinity Buoy Wharf and discovered London's only lighthouse, a community of artists living in brightly painted shipping containers, a sculpture of a man holding a severed head and this sofa...sitting in the middle of a carpark with a nice view of the Millennium Dome. Random. But then again, so is a 1940s American diner, plopped in east London.

Foodie Getaway: Weekend in Whitstable

I was so looking forward to Christmas this year. Newly married, my husband and I decided to spend the holidays alone - away from the madness of in-laws. I booked a cosy cottage in the Lake District and made reservations at the excellent Jumble Room in Grasmere, and the superb Drunken Duck in Ambleside. But as sod's law would have it, two disasters struck. First: Snowmageddon hit Britain (or to this haughty Canadian - a sprinkle of snow). Second: a nasty flu bug hit me. Holiday cancelled, we spend our first Christmas as a married couple on the sofa in our flat watching DVDs as I shivered under blankets with a hot water bottle. Two weeks later when I recovered, I booked a weekend in Whitstable to make up for the flu-that-stole-Christmas. I had a few friends who had visited in recent months and they all came back raving about the restaurants. First on my weekend hitlist was The Sportsman.

This gastropub earned itself a Michelin star in 2008 and foodies have been scrambling to get a table ever since. It's about two miles down the road from Whitstable. We walked along the sea, which took us about an hour and a half. The chef, Stephen Harris is self-taught and started cooking professionally at 33.  We began with three poached rock oysters with pickled cucumber and caviar (£7.95). They were unbelievably creamy with a nice splash of vinegar and the rich aftertaste of caviar. I liked them very much, but my oyster-loving husband said the cream overtook the freshness and raw taste of the oysters. So after polishing off the poached ones, we ordered two Whitstable oysters (£2.95 each) - on the rocks.

"Much better," cooed my husband. He was even happier when the waitress pointed outside the window and told him they had been caught that very morning just a few feet from the front door of the pub.

For my after-oyster starter, I opted for the crab risotto (£9.95). It was intensely rich, cooked in a crabby broth, but remarkably light for a risotto. The grains of rice were much thinner than typical risottos and the portion size just right for a starter. The shaved crab on top was so fresh, I imagined it was happily crawling across the shore that very morning (sorry crab). It was easily my favourite course.

If I had one regret, it's that I didn't stick with seafood for my main course. Instead I was swayed by the waitress who said the local lamb with homemade mint sauce (£16.95) was by far her favourite dish on the menu. Don't get me wrong, it was lovely. But it did taste like every gastropub Sunday lunch I've had in London recently. Being a Michelin-starred pub, I suppose I was expecting something a little more extraordinary. My fella did slightly better with a succulent rich roast breast and confit leg of Aylesbury duck with red wine sauce (£16.95). Both our mains were washed down with the best wine I've had this year:  a spicy 2008 number called Caliterra Tributo Carmenere from Chile (£19.95).

For desert, I chose the cream cheese ice cream and pear puree. The ice cream was delicious, but the pear puree with bits of meringue made it a bit too sweet for my liking. All in all, The Sportsman was very good and the service, some of the friendliest we had encountered. It was a wee bit pricey, so I might not rush back immediately, but would definitely recommend it for a special meal or a celebration.

We had planned to eat dinner at the Whitstable institution that is Wheeler's Oyster Bar. Located on the High Street, Wheeler's has been around for over 150 years and critics say it has the best seafood in town. But, bad news for us - it was closed for a winter break. Instead, the owner of our wonderful B&B suggested a place right next door called Samphire. Not having any expectations, we were pleasantly surprised and loved the pork belly starter with roasted apple chutney (£5.95). Hubby had a gorgeous vegetarian pie with roasted butternut squash and twineham cheese, which we were told was like an English parmesan (£13.50). The food and atmosphere were very homey. 

But the best meal of the weekend was had at JoJo's, a 15 minute walk from Whitstable. I had read a glowing review by Jay Rayner. But things had changed significantly since he wrote that article. JoJo's is no longer a "stripped out bedsit" - but rather a full-fledged restaurant that's now six times the size it once was. It's a buzzy, fun restaurant which specialises in Mediterranean mezze, like the chargrilled squid with chorizo, red pepper, cherry tomatoes and shallots (£9.95) pictured above.

Nikki Billington (middle) is the entertaining, frenetic chef. Her partner Paul Watson is front of house. When I called to make a booking, he told me JoJo's was BYOB. "Corkage is £2 a bottle - unless you buy your wine from Tesco - then it's £5 a bottle," he said seriously. We were lucky enough to secure one of the last spots in the restaurant - at the bar overlooking the kitchen. We got to witness Nikki's wit and the fast-pace of a busy kitchen in action.

We loved the golden, crispy deep fried courgettes with parmesan and garlic mayo (£5.30). Nikki swore at her sous-chef when they didn't come out perfectly the first time and asked them to make them over again. He mouthed something silently back at her, but did as he was told - and they came out perfectly battered.

The Monkshill mutton and feta koftas with spicy tomato sauce and tsatziki (£9.50) were tasty and gave me memories of traveling round the Greek islands. The sauce was absolutely gorgeous, with just the right amount of kick. I told Nikki so and she offered to email me the recipe if I wanted it.

The chargrilled sardines with lemon and black pepper (£6.95) were blackened on the outside, but perfectly tender on the inside.

I chose the plum crumble with ice cream (£5.25) over the chocolate torte for desert. Paul warned me it would take about 15 minutes to cook, but I was happy to digest the flavours of the mezze and watch the bustling kitchen while I waited. When it came, the crumble was a delicious blend of sour plum and browned sugar. It was the perfect end to the perfect foodie weekend. Since raving about these three spots on Twitter, a Whitstable local (@SimonPoole) got in touch to say I should add the Three Mariners at Oare to my list, as well as Salt Marsh and the Dove at Dartgate. Being just an hour and a half from London, I most certainly will return and am already licking my lips in anticipation.


The Sportsman
Faversham Road, Seasalter, Whitstable, Kent CT5 4BP
tel: +44 (0)1227 273 370


Samphire
4 High Street, Whitstable CT5 1BQ
tel: +44 (0)1227 770 075


JoJo's
2 Herne Bay Road, Whitstable, CT5 2LQ
tel: +44 (0)1227 274 591

Kopapa: Kiwi Fusion

32-34 Monmouth Street, WC2H 9HA

tel: +44 (0)20 7240 6076

Something's happened to Covent Garden. It used to be a real graveyard for food lovers. Sure, there were a few exceptions, but overall it was dominated with bland chains like TGI Fridays or awful touristy pubs claiming to have THE most authentic fish and chips in London. But recently, a spate of openings has had food bloggers buzzing. Kopapa is one of the new kids on the block getting a lot of attention. It's co-owned by Peter Gordon who's also the chef behind the excellent Providores in Marylebone. I knew two pub-quiz facts about him. 1) He's often called London's "King of Fusion" for mixing flavours and ingredients from different continents in one dish. 2) He's a Kiwi. What I didn't know is that he also has Maori roots. And this is where the name comes from - Kopapa, in Maori, means a gathering, to be crowded. Ironically, the Friday lunchtime I went, there was nary a soul to be found. But to be perfectly fair, the word is still being spread about Kopapa - and I did visit the first week of January when people are in full on New Year's resolution mode. 

Kopapa serves food all day long, starting with breakfast and coffees from the excellent Monmouth Coffee Company. They also have a scrumptious-looking weekend brunch which got a very good review from fellow food blogger Greedy Diva. I have to say - it is my New Year's resolution to try the spiced banana french toast with orange blossom labne, tamarind raisin relish, grilled streaky bacon and orange vanilla syrup. HELLO. But on this particular visit, it was lunchtime. So, my two dining companions and I picked two small plates each. Grilled chorizo (£5.80) had a spicy bite and was perfectly chargrilled. A bowl of salted, steamed edamame beans (£4.80) was a nice cleansing snack between plates. 

The chargrilled aubergine with tamarind caramel, coriander, pickled ginger and za'atar (a mixture of Middle Eastern spices) sounded like it would be a party in one's mouth (£4.80). Sadly it turned out to be better on paper than in reality. It was rather bland and could have used a bit more ginger for my liking.

The dish above was my favorite. So much so that after we finished, I immediately ordered another plate. I hadn't heard of cassava chips before. They look a little like parsnips, but taste sweeter. Apparently it's commonly eaten as a vegetable in parts of Africa and Asia and used the same way potatoes are in the west. These babies were served with avocado, sriracha chili sauce and creme fraiche (£3.80). They tasted miles better than fries and I fooled myself into thinking they might be healthier too. If they aren't - I don't want to know about it.

Another small plate with big flavours was the sesame infused tuna tartare with soy wasabi tapioca, crispy lotus root and shiso (£6.00). If this dish were a new boyfriend, I'd want to introduce him to my parents straight away. The flavours impressed - big time. Soy and tuna are an obvious match, but the wasabi gave it a good kick - and the shiso - which I learned is a member of the mint family added a welcoming cooling dimension.

The final plate was my choice: coconut sticky pork ribs (£6.20). Basically, you can stick coconut in anything and I'll love it. Porridge, smoothies, cupcakes, chicken - BRING ON THE COCONUT. This was no exception. The ribs were meaty and and tender. There was just a kiss of coconut flavour which made it appealing rather than overwhelming. We took a miss on dessert and opted instead for a delicious 2007 Vega from Douro, Portugal (£18.50). On the whole, Kopapa is a very welcome addition to the culinary wasteland which once was Covent Garden. The flavours are exciting, the service VERY attentive and friendly. And I look forward to checking one more New Year's resolution off my list: banana french toast, here I come.

Fernandez & Leluu Supper Club: Secret's Out

Location: Secret address in Hackney

email: bookings@fernandezandleluu.com

I nominated myself to be in charge of my work team Christmas party this year. Back in November, I gave my colleagues a list of five or so foodie options. Personally, I thought they might all go for the mushroom foraging tour on Hampstead Heath, guided by someone dubbing himself a "Fungi To Be With!" It sounded hilarious. Alas, that wasn't the first pick. The majority loved the idea of going to a secret supper club. The concept has really taken off in London in the past year. Basically, you go to a stranger's home and they cook you dinner. It's kind of half dinner party - half restaurant.

I've been following the tweets of one secret supper club in particular: Fernandez & Leluu. It's run by couple Uyen and Simon from their flat in Hackney. By day she is a fashion and jewelry designer. He's a freelance software designer. They've received a lot of praise this year and were named one of the top ten  supper clubs in London by the Guardian. They are a favorite among many food bloggers too. So, on a chilly winter's evening, eight of us trekked out to east London, armed with bottles of wine and prosecco (it's BYOB) and not the foggiest idea of what to expect.

What we got first was a lovely warm welcome from Uyen who was playing hostess for the evening. She took our coats and showed us into what is usually their living room - now packed with around 25 strangers at different tables. Super smiley and gracious, she showed us to a table set for eight and opened a couple bottles of the bubbles we had brought. Casting an eye around the flat, I felt like I could have been in a little shop on Colombia Road. So many funky little knickknacks and antiques. The room was filled with happy chatter and candlelight and immediately we felt right at home.

Sometimes Uyen cooks, sometimes Simon does. Uyen's specialty is Vietnamese food. She was born in Saigon and came to London with her parents at the age of five, fleeing the Communist regime. Simon was born in Madrid and also came to London when he was five. At the helm in the kitchen on this particular night, he started us off with one of my favorite courses of the whole night: pea and basil soup with ham hock and parmesan and freshly baked garlic bread.

What I liked most about the soup was how truly homemade it tasted. In a fancy schmancy restaurant, the peas would have likely been pureed to a smooth, velvety finish. But in this case, there was still the odd full pea chunk that escaped from the food processor. It didn't matter. The flavor was divine, the healthiness of the garden peas swimming in the creamy mixture with rich ham hock and slivers of beautiful parmesan. The bread was warm, tasted of olive oil and the perfect mop for the leftover soup.

The next course was a thing of beauty. Glasses filled with invisible tomato. We spent a good five minutes trying to figure out how they could taste so much of fresh tomato and not be red in colour. We gave up, swigged them back and loved the lightness of what tasted like a tomato consume. They were a gorgeous partner for the rather more sinful treats that came with them.

Bacon swirls. Holy sweet Jesus. Out of 1 to 10 on the calorie scale, these things are sure to be off the map. But what a genius concept. I suppose you could compare them to the bacon, cheese croissants that you get at Pret a Manger - except that would be an insult. These were clearly made with much more love. And speaking of love, by this point I was pretty sure that I might already be in love with the chef, so I trundled upstairs to say hello and meet him.

Simon was relaxed, charming and I couldn't believe that he was such a cool cucumber with a crowd of strangers downstairs who were growing louder with each bottle of wine that passed. He told me that he had just acquired a job at a chalet in Switzerland for the rest of the winter, so they would be taking a bit of a break. Bad news for all of you drooling over this post so far. But the good news is Uyen will be offering Vietnamese cooking courses throughout January and February.

Uyen asked if I could take the next plate down to our table. My colleagues of course thought it was hilarious that I had suddenly become a waitress. But, I would do the same thing at a dinner party, so why not? This course was quite special: serrano ham on a bed of leaves with pears poached in champagne and vanilla. The jar of pears came with a handwritten label with all our names on it. Such attention to detail is what makes Fernandez & Leluu stand out. The champagne marinade doubled up as a lovely dressing for the salad.

The next course was the only one that our table disagreed on. Loin of pork with carrots and passionfruit. About half the table found the sweetness of the passionfruit too overwhelming. The other half loved it. We all agreed that the pork was a bit overcooked - but otherwise I personally thought the combination was gorgeous.

Right. By this point, we thought we might explode. We had lost count of how many courses (and bottles of wine) we had consumed. Somehow though we all managed to make room for the braised oxtail and beetroot with creamy mash. It was worth it. This was one of my favorite dishes of the night. The meat slipped off the bone like a dream and the clouds of potatoes floating on top of the dish were creamy and seasoned perfectly. The beetroot added a subtle sweetness. Divine. 

We were sure the next course would be pudding. It had to be. It was unfathomable to think otherwise. Wrong again. Out came a dish filled to the brim with steaming seafood paella. Cooked in a sweet tomato sauce, this too was amongst my favorites. The mussels were big and juicy, the prawns perfectly tender and the rice, bloated with flavors of garlic and onion. It was such a shame that we were all too stuffed to eat another thing.   

Oh wait...dessert you say? Well, in the end we managed to fit that in too. A moorish slice of bread and butter pudding, which if you can believe, I've never ever had in my life. It's an old fashioned English favourite layering slices of bread with raisins in an egg and milk mixture seasoned with nutmeg. I loved it. One of my colleagues hated it - but she said it was nothing personal - she's always hated bread and butter pudding. I think there's something wrong with her.

When Simon finally came downstairs once all the courses were consumed, he received a roaring round of applause from everyone in the room. It was nearly 1am at this point, and as we happily slipped our payment into an envelope (the suggested donation is £35) we agreed that as far as work Christmas parties went - this one was by far the best.