naebody

Article here. Doubt there's any history there, to be honest. He's always written with the tone of a rogue pen among the cookererati, and seems to enjoy sounding off against the facile nature of being a critic. (One recent food column, in which he explained why being a newspaper columnist is humanity at its lowest ebb, was posted on the Times office noticeboard for a few weeks, relevant paragraphs highlighted for the benefit of his colleagues.) I'd say that the (mostly accurate) rant against Ruth Reichl and her London acolytes for their "smug, worthy, self-aggrandising horseshit" fits neatly into his canon.

Salt Yard is a top choice, well deserving of its bib. Their stuffed courgette flower in honey is as good an example as I've had anywhere. On table turning: yes, it's a real pain. But when it's not a place they can guarantee all tables are full all of the time, such as Gogsy's Hospital Food, it seems to be more a safety net for the restaurant than a major imposition on the customer. I'd guess that, for a popular but not top-rank place on a weekday evening, between a fifth and a quarter of their reservations don't show up. The "table time limit" policy simply allows the house to book to absolute capacity so, as punters turn up, the waiting staff can hassle people out of tables as and when required to keep enough spaces open for the next wave. But if there are the usual amount of no-shows, you can usually sit for as long as you want -- which, obviously, will earn the restaurant much more than an empty seat. The business types call this kind of thing yield management, I think. Recently, I've over-stayed my allotted welcome at all of the following: Andrew Edmunds, L'Etranger, Sardo Canale, Portal (which was completely empty at the time), Fino, Yauatcha, that Cuban place Conran keeps locked in Mezzo's cellar, Abingdon Road and -- yes! -- Salt Yard. Then there was the Ivy, where a 12:30 lunch booking went through until 5pm without any complaint. But that's another story ...

Hm. Approach with caution. Dropped in on a school night a few weeks ago to find the unmistakable stench of failure had crept in. You could have counted the other punters on the fingers of no hands. Also, like most basements, it gets progressively less busy as soon as the sun starts shining *. E&O is a very strong suggestion if you're prepared to go outside Zone 1. Can't comment on Momo from recent experience, but the same street provides The Living Room, which is not too disappointing providing you approach it with chain-type expectations. Meanwhile, Levant on Wigmore Street gives you a comparable menu and a similar (albeit quieter) vibe to Momo, yet it won't require military planning to get a table, has plenty of wallet-friendly food deals on offer, and comes with one of central London's superior bars attached. (* Disclaimer: Levant is also housed in a basement. But I'd argue that the whole windowless thing works much better once you put carpets on the roof, distribute about 100,000 tea candles and light up a good strong shisha.)

A second vote for Ping Pong if your budget is low: the location, food and decor are all acceptable (ie. not good when compared to the best, but not ritzy enough to scare anyone who's about to be stuck with a communal bill). Yauatcha is a solid choice if you're on expenses and are prepared to get the cocktails down within 90 minutes. For a more controversial take on the same theme, I'd include Cocoon on Regent Street: impressive spaceship decor, buzzy bar, fair-to-middling pricing, tolerable soundsystem, and a vibe that's one part trendy to two parts Essex. The food gets some extremely bad reviews, although I'd still rate it a cut above Ping Pong's factory-constructed steamerwave operation. If you have an aversion to Asian: perhaps Vasco & Piero’s in Soho. The menu's solid and unthreatening for business purposes, the atmosphere is provided by the slightly batty clientelle, and the entertainment comes from the waiter trying to chat you up. And finally, if food is your single biggest priority, forget trendy and go to Galvin.

whoa. steady on there. until you establish "who" should be paying the service, and the manner in which it is applied, the debate can't progress any further. ← Here's 700 words from AA Gill on Galvin's tronc policy. And obviously, the employer should pay a living wage which would be reflected in the customer's bill, rather than rely on a supposed act of gratuity or charity by the customers. Can it progress any further now?

That article is really quite concerning "Buckingham Palace has reportedly banned garlic and spaghetti for the Queen's forthcoming trip to Italy ... steer clear of "messy" tomato sauces ... ban on shellfish, rare meat, foreign water and any food that is too spicy or exotic," etc. etc. etc. Hence, I predict the winner will be cornflakes in Tupperware. I'm sure the series will be tremendous entertainment to the cookerati. But, among McDonalds-going nation, I suspect it'll be viewed as a ludicrous excercise in buffing up pearls to lay before swine. And frankly, I find it difficult to disagree: it's hard to imagine a more ornate and offensive waste of broadcasting time and public money.

Full capacity when we sat down, reducing to about 1/3 by the time we were finished (4ish). The front of house lady was most charming and accommodating, despite myself and the better half looking like we'd been at Fabric until 4am before sleeping it off under a bridge. And our waiter provided entertainment value by saying everything in a brave approximation of a French accent (I think he was from Manchester). In a place like this, with a very high turnover at the front of house and a proportionate shortage of regular customers, it's probably unfair to be too critical of individual staff. They'll be on minimum wage or below, and working for that fixed 12.5% tronc with nil chance of a cash fillip thanks to chip & pin. Frankly, until this country recognises that service needs to be paid rather than capriciously rewarded, we should consider it a bonus every time the waiter chooses not to stir our soup with his dangly bits. However, that's another debate for another day ...

Went for a late lunch yesterday, first visit. Pitched up without a booking at 2pm. No problem. I had the set: jerusalem artichoke soup followed by grilled red mullet. The date went a la carte with a dodine of duck then a goat's cheese/onion/beetroot thing, and we shared a cheeseplate to finish. Food faultless. Service polite and efficient. Add in a bottle of very decent 2000 Languedoc and a bottle of Evian, and the bill came out at £62 including service. I don't doubt the claim prices are "creeping up", and the booze and water mark-ups are at typical London levels. But I still challenge anyone to name a better value, more civilised lunch option inside Zone 1.

In my own (admittedly limited) experience, a traditional London afternoon tea is 1% food and 99% people watching. Nobody in their right mind would bother with char and cake in midafternoon if it came without the human theatre. Hence, I'd ignore places like The Ritz (which is Disneyland Britannia) and Sketch (disqualified for being Parisien) in favour the somewhere with a bit more character and eccentricity. So: The Orangery in Kensington, The Lanesborough, or Sotheby's Cafe. Their crustless sandwiches are just as dull as the competition, and you're much more likely to get to earwig some choice conversations as the purple-haired dears discuss all that's ill with the modern world.

Aha. Indeed, it is partly cultural. But that just reinforces my point. It's no coincidence that the most successful eateries in London's major babyzones -- Giraffe, Tootsies, Banners -- could all be transplanted effortlessly into any US strip mall. On both sides of the Atlantic, people who eat out with kids will routinely want cheap burgers, cheesy pasta and chicken gougons that arrive 90 seconds after ordering. And they want them served among people who won't light up Cohibas, tutt, or stare daggers when your two-year old decides to annex the neigbouring table to use as a fort. The Americans, generally, are more tolerant of other people's children than the British. They're also much better at the kind of big, cheap, uncomplicated food that arrives in minutes and appeals to children's taste and parents' pockets. Hence, America has more eateries in the 'burbs than Britain, albeit with less variety. Of course, the ideal solution would be to have good local restaurants doing simple but well sourced food in an atmosphere that's relaxed enough to cope with sprogs. But then, we'd all be living in Italy.

It's simple really. Places like Dulwich, Muzzie, Holland Park and great chunks of Kensington & Chelsea are restaurant-free zones because they are populated mostly by 30-somethings with very young kids. This demographic, while cash rich by average standards, works long hours in zone 1, does not live in extended families, and cannot rely on tight social groupings (or "friends", as they're otherwise known). That has two effects: it means they have much less opportunity than average to eat out, and when they do they have to make the outings special to justify the hassle of finding childcare, transport, etc. That will usually mean going to a central destination-type restaurant. (Note the discussion elsewhere about Jon Ronson's trip to Dans Le Noir, in which a celebrated author travels from North London to a novelty eaterie in Shoreditch so he can have the first kid-free evening meal with his wife in the seven years since the sprog was born.) As a result, any place that sets out to feed rich localities with posh tuck will limp by on very little weekday trade, whereas somewhere similar in a younger, childless demographic such as Labroke Grove, Islington or Camden does much better despite relying on a less moneyed clientelle. I call this Naebody's First Law of Gastronomic Inversion. Feel free to drop it into your own conversations.

Blimey. As a former Scottish tourism bod, I can confidently say that Scotland has nothing in that kind of bracket. The closest is probably Andrew Fairlie at the Gleneagles hotel ( http://www.gleneagles.com/defaultpage131cd0.aspx?pageID=117 ). But frankly, only a bampot would come to Scotland in order to eat French haut. It may therefore be the ideal trip to give the foams and emulsions a rest. If you're after a travel adventure, then I can second the recommendation of Three Chimneys. However, the best meal you'll get will most likely be in the Western Isles, on a fishing boat, eating just-caught langoustine that have been boiled on deck in a tin kettle.

What about the Lanesborough Conservatory? Outstanding at both fish and veg, and ritzy enough for a special occasion. Unfortunately, the dining room itself can be a bit staid and vacuum packed, not unlike dining in the Brighton Pavillion with a Saga coach party. But you can always decamp to the outstanding Library bar afterwards. Alternatively, Morgan M in Islington does a great garden menu and has a bit more life to it. I've also found Rousillion's veg set menu top class, although some on this board appear to disagree.

I'm sure the discussion about what constitutes good value in London has been covered in depth elsewhere. But to summarise my own thoughts: while I have no problem stumping up £5 per scallop at Fino, my father would choke on his chicken kiev at the prospect. When dining in large groups, particularly with a split bill and kids in tow, I usually make a point of assuming that not everyone will share my idea of appropriate ratios when it comes to price, quantity and quality. Hence I tend to side with somewhere like Little Bay rather than Fino. It saves awkwardness. Having said that, just noticed on the Fino website that they have good set-lunch options that max out at £30 including drinks. Still, I'd think twice before bringing a kid to a whitewashed basement for lunch. And I'd argue that Salt Yard, just up the road, gives more bang for less buck (although is Italian-ish, so rules istelf out).

We must have very different measures for "too dear". Perhaps try cafe at the Institute of British Architects on Portland Place: Open for lunch, British-ish theme, nice room and a fairly-priced menu, plus you'll get kudos from the rellies by knowing about somewhere semi-secret. Other choices would be The Bountiful Cow (steak house in a Holburn pub refit; passable food, don't know how they do with kids though), or the Court restaurant in the British Museum itself (not as cheap or as good as you'd hope, but not as expensive or as bad as you'd fear).

Couldn't agree more about Lemonia. Sub-par trat food whose fame relies entirely on the patronage of local slebs'. It's the Greek equivalent of San Lorenzo. The best Greek in the area (and, I'd argue, in London) is Cafe Corfu, about 10 minutes south, just off Camden high street. Pratt Street, I think. Very clever menu. The Troika's food is undeniably pretty bad. But I still feel it requires visiting occasionally, if only to help it resist turning into a Carluccio's Caffe or a branch of Rigby & Peller. The Engineer, while decent tuck, is ridiculously overpriced and overcrowded with Gauloises-smoking, ironic-teeshirt-wearing, iPod-discussing types every weekend. Unless it's a sunny day and you can snag a seat in the garden, it's probably not worth the journey or the effort. The Lansdowne has a very similar clientelle, and serves an unambitious menu full of the kind of stuff you'd cook at home. Except at home, you wouldn't have to listen to some 20-something shouting into a mobile phone about the new DBC Pierre book he hasn't read. The food at the Crown & Goose, on Delancey Street, is not that different from the above two but will leave your wallet and your irritation levels in much better fettle. Also worth trying is the unassuming whitewashed Japanese about halfway along Parkway. Think The Gate's Belsize Park outpost has closed down (no loss, as it was a pale shadow of the Hammersmith branch), leaving Manna the best option for when you're not feeling carnivore. It's inconsistent, but worth risking. Head 10 minutes north and you have all Hampstead has to offer, such as The Wells.

I'd say the choice was pretty simple. It all depends on how you're taking to the big 3-5. If you want to feel young, go to Sketch. If you want to feel grown up, go to Garvoche. If you want to feel numb, go to Square.

If your hotel does no breakfast, it's perhaps worth stopping by Hush in Lancashire Court, just between Bond Street and Brook Street. Worth a visit because it's a lovely room hidden in a posh little courtyard. The food's a bit hit-and-miss and the dinner clientelle are a dislikeable shower, but the kitchen can usually manage a passable smoked kipper and boiled egg with soldiers. Also in Lancashire Court, Rocket is quite a decent bar/cafe outfit that won't knock your culinary socks off, but is okay value for the area otherwise devoid of cheap options.

(First time poster, long time reader.) I've been going to Blah Blah Blah regularly for about five years, on and off, despite not being a herbivore. Like all small local places, the quality varies depending on who's working the stove: it was outstanding about three years ago, before the head chef got one of the waitresses pregnant and they disappeared off to Canada. The previously absent owner, a New Zealand surfer type, turned up for a while to use the place as his front room, and the quantity-to-quality ratio changed drastically towards the former. He's not been around for the last six months or so, and the kitchen seems to be getting back up to speed. On a good day it probably deserves to be considered among the top half-dozen meatless places in England -- it's certainly on par with the celeb-favoured Gate down the road, despite being half the price. The menu makes a nod at seasonality (ie. summer and winter), strays randomly between Asia, America and Med, and is fairly ambitious in a California/posh party canape kind of way. I'd recommend aiming for the European options on the menu: haloumi skewers, baked polenta, mushroom wellington, that kind of thing. Starters and desserts are always <£5, mains are <£10. As is usually the way with veggie places, the desserts are there to counterbalance any healthy aspirations found elsewhere on the menu. Expect chocolate plus cream plus sugar plus booze. This is one of the few places it's worth asking the staff what they recommend. Everything's pretty much the same price, there's no automatic service charge on the bill, and the waiting staff all seem to be pretty enthusiastic about the place. Note: no credit cards, cash only. Neither the room nor the location will be winning any awards. Crammed-together tables with paper tablecloths and crayons to keep you amused, African tourist tat on the walls, spotlights rescued from a TV studio, and a tempremental old tape player crunching out Cafe Del Mar. Try to get a table upstairs: the basement is very gloomy, and you risk getting caught beside a BBC office party. Also, Goldhawk Road itself is extremely shabby: if you need a drink before or after, try the Bush Bar (opposite side of the road) for overpriced cocktails, or the Goldhawk (just to the left) for a decent beer in the area's least offensive pub. Don't stray into the first bar you see, unless you intend to get into a heated conversation about the merits of Catholicism, or wish to buy a DVD of Big Momma's House 2 from a man with a bin liner. Finally: the best thing about Blah, and why it's my favoured local, is that it's BYO only with a very decent corkage of about £1.50 per person. It means you can get a top grade bottle of plonk and three courses of properly made food, and still have change from £25 a head. That's a rarity in London, sadly.