Rex & Mariano

Rex & Mariano comes from some relatively serious commercial restaurant pedigree.  The business behind this is the same as that which opened the Goodman steak houses and Burger & Lobster, both of which seem to be chugging along in fine fettle, with a string of decent reviews and an ocean of devotees flowing in their respective wakes.  The place is also named for Rex Goldsmith, a doyenne of the Chelsea fishmonger world, and Mariano li Vigni, who... well, I’m not really sure, but he’s from Sicily and knows a thing or two about fish. 

Its atmosphere is classic modern fish spot, albeit slightly quiet when we went (a Friday lunchtime).  Loads and loads of space, with all the shiny marble-ness of an Italian restaurant mixed with the industrial chic of bare wire light fittings and open ventilation ducts throughout.  A sort of clash of cultures.  It feels nice, though, don’t get me wrong – a sort of relaxed, informal way of eating food that is often overly formal.

But the very first thing you notice is your waiter.  Because this is him.

Yup, an iPad.  For the most part, the waiting is automated, which is designed to cut down on the number of staff and thereby decrease the cost of the food.  On that front, it works – the prices of the dishes are indeed less than I would have anticipated, but then this is from the people who brought us £20 grilled lobsters and were able to employ human waiters.  I’m sceptical about this, partly because it means fewer jobs and partly because it undermines the almost entirely lost art of waiting tables – something which, when done properly and done well, is a joy to experience. 

But, you can’t get away from one simple fact: It’s pretty cool to watch it in action.  For example, we tapped away at our screen and ordered a brace of Aperol Spritz.  Mere seconds (no exaggeration) later, this happened.

And a few seconds after that, our drinks arrived.

So no more waiting around, no more mucking about.  This is an end to that irritating scenario where the table next to you arrives afterwards but orders first, or where you have to wait ages whilst the table of twenty five out on a team lunch have their mammoth order prepared and served.  At R&M they are swift, they are keen, the automation simply slots your order in a queue and it arrives as soon as it’s ready.

So here it is, in the order in which it came (which is the only way their food is served).

First up, sea bass ceviche. 

Slices of fresh-as-a-daisy sea bass marinated in coriander, yuzu (a Japanese citrus fruit somewhere between a lemon, a lime and a grapefruit), red onion and tiger’s milk (not actually – leche de tigre is the Peruvian name for the juice that marinades and is created by the process of ceviche – it’s basically lime juice, chilli, onion and salt). 

GrubsterGirl also had some oysters (I’m a bit of an oyster pansy, I’m afraid) – two of each of the rocks and the natives.  I was informed that they were very good value.

A bowl of courgette fries. 

These were really, really good – much better than I was expecting, and blowing Byron’s much better known (and the original?) version out of the water.  They were piping hot, encased in a light batter that somehow stayed crunchy even once the fries had cooled. 

Fish carpaccio platter.

From top to bottom: sea bass, salmon and tuna.  Let’s just pause a moment to note that, in order to do this dish, you have to have spankingly fresh fish.  Which they have.  In central London.  That’s one of my take home points about this place – their seafood is genuinely very good.

If I want to be picky / fussy, these were the three fish that dominated the menu.  But I like them so I simply don’t care.  Also, the fish had some funny tomato stuff on it which simply didn’t work.  But other than that, good dish.

Then there is the lobster ceviche.

Yup.  This was actually so good, we ordered it twice.  Just stunning, the balance of flavours was perfect that the ceviche process had ‘cooked’ the lobster meat to absolute perfection.  The fennel worked so unbelievably well with it, I was genuinely taken aback.  Ten out of ten for this one. 

We skipped pudding – the list looked a bit meagre, a bit of an afterthought, which was a shame.  But of course (this being an Italian restaurant in London) there was the classic complimentary shot of limoncello at the end.

Rex & Mariano is a great concept, selling food well and at decent prices.  It’s still not cheap though – not in the same draw-dropping way that Burger & Lobster seems able to pull off its crustaceans – but more what I’d call good value.  And the quality of the food, simple as it is, was magnificent.  There are chains you see sprouting up all of the time, and in most cases I feel a bit ‘take it or leave it’.  But not in this case.  I’d like R&M to go all the way, please.

Brew By Numbers / Howard's Meat Co.

Craft beer and BBQ, along with quality burgers and kimchi, are perhaps two of the four horsemen of the overdone foodpocalypse currently engulfing London.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s a reason these things are so successful – they’re bloody lovely and everyone wants a mouthful.  But they are everywhere and in some cases that begins to grate, at times.  So when an email chain alerts me to the fact that there is an afternoon craft beer and BBQ-ing going down in Southwark, the initial reaction, if we’re honest, is “Again?”.

Of course, that doesn’t stop me reaching for my wallet, clicking the link and booking my tickets.  Why?  Two reasons:  First, the pedigree here is pretty impressive – this is a partnership of Brew By Numbers (or “BBNo” as the branding has it), one of London’s more successful outlets of small batch, craft brewed beer, and Howard’s Meat Co., a British BBQ vendor with Austin, TX training smoking meat in London.  Second, as I said above, beer and BBQ are pretty bloody lovely and so there’s no way I’m gonna turn this sort of opportunity down.

There’s something almost painfully hipster about the setting.  BBNo’s brewhouse is squeezed into a Bermondsey railway arch, mere spitting distance from Maltby Street Market.  It’s the kind of place you expect to find a lot of beards, thick-rimmed glasses and ironic cartoon t-shirts, and it didn’t disappoint.  They had four beers on tap, each were distinctly delicious, from seasonal brews to their standard IPA. 

We kicked off with a witbeer, a classic white beer made with orange peel, coriander and chamomile flowers. 

On a hot sunny day, as Sunday was, it was perfect refreshment.  In fact, this was a truly brilliant beer.  Much like the Einstok I was raving about when we ate in an Underground train, this is a fantastic way of brewing, and makes a beer that even a non-beer drinker (such as GrubsterGirl) would enjoy. 

Pretty soon, we were being treated to some canapé things.  I say ‘canapé things’ because I don’t really know how else to put it.  I mean, sure, it’s sort of like a canapé in that it’s (a) small, virtually bitesized; (b) served before the meal; and (c) on a cocktail stick.  But surely this is no fancy canapé?  Canapés to me seem to belong at awkward networking events and dreary office parties. 

But who cares, eh?  Because these were brilliant.  I mean, seriously brilliant.  One of the best sausages I’ve ever had, it was rich, smokey and oh-so-juicy – all of the things I have come to expect not to have in the often over-grilled British Barbequed Banger.  Technically this was a weisswurst, a white sausage made from veal and back bacon – I assume it was the long, long hours of smoking that had tuned its final colour.  The pickles it was served with – pink onions and pickled green beans – were fantastic too.

By this stage we’re on to beer number two – the saison.

‘Saison’ is the French word for season, or seasonal (in this instance).  A Belgian style of beer, this one is made with lime zest and particularly fruity hops, and is a real zinger.  Should be good with rich greasy food.  Like BBQ.  Oh what a coincidence.

By now we’re seated in side, at long trestle tables.  There’s something of a seating plan but it’s pretty much easy come easy go, which is nice and relaxed.  Also, they’ve not made the mistake of overcrowding the tables, so it’s comfortable which is a blessed relief and a big change from the norm.  It kinda feels like you can make as many friends from your neighbours as you like or ignore them altogether, whatever is your fancy.  In fact, generally, the vibe is wonderfully relaxed.  There’s no hassle to get in and get out for the next cover, this is take-your-time style eating, laid-back gluttony.  Perfect. 

Soon the food starts trotting out.  Let’s get started with the sides because, you know, I like to leave the best ‘til last. 

So, we have fresh seasonal fruit slaw and jalapeño potato salad. 

OK, so with the slaw I am not sure where the fruit is.  And I don’t like potato salad (actually, there’s a confession about potatoes somewhere on this blog…).  But, if I’m honest, neither really matter because these two sides are rocking.  Seriously, nailed it.  The slaw is crunchy and tasty, without going the way of so many others and being too cloying.  Same goes for the potato salad, which can be a slick of mayo-based sludge populated by the occasional over-boiled spud.  Not so here: It’s delicious, with a smack of dill and punch of jalapeño, this is wonderfully more-ish and leaves a professed potato-dodger coming back for more and more and more. 

I also ordered up a schooner of BBNo’s Session IPA. 

This was similarly delicious.  As any ‘session’ beer ought to be, it was thoroughly drinkable and very tasty.  Another good drop with food. Actually, I should mention at this stage that these aren’t pints, they’re 2/3rd pint glasses, which makes them more manageable and means you can drink a wider variety of beers.  Which has to be a good thing, right?

Now let’s get serious and talk about the meat.  Because, let’s be honest, that’s why you’re still reading this.

Meat comes on a platter, three different types: pork belly (marinated in the Session IPA), lamb shoulder, and beef brisket.  On the side is a little pot of their own BBQ sauce, made today with a BBNo porter. 

Let’s start with the pork. 

This was beautiful – rich, buttery fat had slowly rendered into the meat leaving smoky, soft belly pork that melted in the mouth.  Devine, but sadly too little of it.

The smokiness of all of the meats was something else, something I have not properly had in the UK before, proper Texan.  The meats are smoked for up to 16 hours (!) over a mix of lime, silver birch and English red oak.  The quality of the cooking process really shows – there are no cheats here, no corners cut.   

Then there was the lamb. 

Now, as a general rule, I tend to avoid lamb when eating out and very rarely cook it.  I have nothing against lamb, honestly, it’s just that it can be so very hit-and-miss.  When it’s done well, it’s divine.  When it’s not, I find it way too fatty to be enjoyed.  Fortunately, this was a case of the former.  In fact, this was a case of hole-in-one, knock-your-socks off lamb.  The outer layers were nicely charged and smoky, and the whole meat was slow cooked so that it came away like pulled lamb.  But the flavouring was intense – a dolloping of chopped herbs and spices that left the meat still very much America BBQ-esque but somehow introduced all the European flavours that offset lamb so well.

And brisket.  Brisket is always, always going to be the star of any Texan BBQ show.  BBQ brisket is like a religion over there, as if it were the one essential component that you can’t really skip out.  It is kind of revered, and that’s a pretty heavy burden to have to carry. 

Here it’s executed to perfection.  Just look at it.  It.  Charred and crusted on the outside, there’s a distinct pink edge all the way around showing where the smoke has permeated the meat.  It’s soft as hell – you could spread this stuff on a saltine cracker without difficulty, which from a tough as originally tough as brisket is invariably impressive.  And it was oh so tasty, beautiful smoky meat, oh so good.  The BBQ sauce was a real winner with this too.  As was the porter we sampled as well – properly dark, rich and bitter, it worked wonders with the rich meat. 

Then there was seconds.  SECONDS.  Good stuff. 

(Actually, I think there was way more than seconds – the couple next to us kept asking for more – although we were stuffed by this stage.)

Pudding came too, a millionaire’s brownie – basically a chocolate brownie with a shortbread base and a caramel top – accompanied by bourbon cream and strawberries.

If I’m honest, this wasn’t the highlight.  It was with some relief that it was revealed Howard’s Meat Co. was not responsible for this – it was bought in.  I reckoned it was there because you couldn’t offer lunch to an Englishman without a pudding, but frankly I’d have preferred it if they’d thrown in another beer (the first was free), or shaved a couple of quid off the asking price.  But maybe that’s just me. 

BBNo is running a series of these events – known as Dine Street.  I shall be watch their announcements closely to see what else is on the menu in future.  Provided the quality of food is remains that consistently brilliant, it’s a great thing to do on a Sunday afternoon, a nice break to the same old trip to the pub for roast beef and yorkies.  Similarly, next time I find myself at one of these oh-so-trendy food festivals I shall be keeping my eye out for Howard’s Meat Co. – because there I know I am going to get 100% quality, authentic Texan fare.  Top marks to both.

M1LK

A few months ago a new joint opened up on Clapham Common called Fields.  Being locals, and foodies, we didn't hesitate to go along and sample its wares, which we enjoyed very much.  In fact, we enjoyed it so much that we've been back several times since, and even persuaded family and friends to come along and enjoy a bite.

Having rated Fields so highly, it seemed only right and proper that we try out M1LK, Field's big sister café (M1LK was the first).  So here we go.

First up, like so many other joints that M1LK is formed from the same mould as, this place is achingly trendy.  It's got the industrial chic look pretty much nailed.  It's got the mismatched, slightly uncomfortable furniture.  It's got the epic queues on a Saturday or Sunday (although go early on either day, or any time mid-week, and it's a doddle to get a table).

 

I'm always, I'm afraid, slightly wary of the hipster, trendy look - and in particular, places that are uber popular (remember The Breakfast Club?) - mostly because it's usually all a ruse to disguise a really rather average offering that's massively overpriced.

 

Spoiler Alert: M1LK is not that.  M1LK's awesome.

 

Let's start with the coffee, hey?  Because, just like Fields, M1LK sells awesome coffee.  Like, really, really good coffee, made with full fat unhomogenised milk (naughty but so yummy) and tip-top quality coffee beans.  I mean, this is good coffee.  I seldom have more than one cup a day, but this stuff has me going back for three or four.

 

Then there are the smoothies.  Holy cow.  This was the one thing I thought Fields really was lacking - there was no fresh juice (although, good news breakfast fans, that's been addressed slightly now).  M1LK does big, old-fashioned milk pint bottles (very cool) full of deliciously tasty, fresh mulched fruit.  Very good stuff. 

Now, on to the bit that you've probably actually interested in.  The food.

M1LK does not disappoint.  First up, The Convict. 

 

Kinda like their signature dish, this is the closest you're going to get to a Full English at either restaurant.  It is, in fact, an English muffin filled with bacon, sausages (from Moen's, so local), a Burford Brown egg, hash browns and something described as "hangover sauce" which is a lovely brown sauce-esque condiment that offsets all the greasy food beautifully.  The stuffing is also topped with grated cheese, which is also pretty ace.  This is a good breakfast.  Hearty.  Hangover-defeating. 

 

 

Here we have also the Sweet Maria.  Sweetcorn fritters with grilled halloumi, avocado and  kasundi (a kind of Indian tomato relish or pickle).  Again, really brilliant but this time more appealing, perhaps, to those who like to start their Saturday mornings off with a spot of yoga (Mrs G) rather than nursing a post-Friday night throbbing head (Mr G).  Lots of lovely, fresh flavours - I doubt, actually, that it's that healthy but it certainly tastes it, and has the advantage of being simultaneously really tasty.

 

 

Then there are the baked eggs, which you can have with sausages or with butternut squash.  No surprise, we went for sausages.  Technically, these are kasekrainer, a type of German sausage with small bits of cheese mixed in with the stuffing.  I've never had them before, but they were good.  Also mixed in the pan was wild ransoms (a bit like wild garlic, which has more of a spring oniony flavor, in my view, than a garlicky one), labne (a type of yoghurt) and wild flowers.  All this made for an aesthetically stunning dish which was still pretty good (but, I am afraid, lost out in comparison with the others). 

 

 

Much like Fields, M1LK also does a range of baked stuff - from cakes to cookies - that look too good to be refused.  I have since learned that they bake all of their stuff in-house, as part of a drive to generate better quality produce from top quality ingredients.  In fact, I reckon you should read this post on their blog about the steps they're taking to improve their environmental and ethical footprint.  I find it pretty inspiring.

 

I have no problem recommending M1LK.  Sure, if you live locally and want to pop out for a bit of Saturday or Sunday brunch, being met by the enormous queues is likely to be frustrating.  But there's a reason for those queues: the product inside is, genuinely, really, really good.


PS: I took the photos a little while ago, and in my disorganised stage have only just got round to posting.  Since then, M1LK has been closed for a re-furb and has only just re-opened.  I gather it's now much bigger, which hopefully should address the queue situation a little, and I think some of the spots depicted (such as the counter and industrial-chic walls / neon display) have now gone.  However, I do understand that the food is just as good and the team hasn't changed, so I reckon this review should still stand.  Cheers. 

Cellar SW4

As is always the way when a new gaff opens up just around the corner from your home, when you stand outside Cellar as a Clapham local, you find yourself scratching your head for simply ages, thinking: “I know this wasn’t here three days ago, but what was here?”  It’s the mystery of urban living, the inability to recall the shop or business or bar or service that occupied the same dozen square feet at the end of your nose only a matter of hours before.

Cellar sort of fits a tidy little niche, a wine bar serving interesting and unique wines, none of them well known or even widely available, along with platters of meats and cheeses.  The establishment has been set up by the same minds behind Dvine Wine round the corner on Landor Road, an outfit that specialises in selling organic and biodynamic wines.  So I’m going to come out and call this – this is a local business (even if the owner is a very friendly and personable Aussie) with proper local routes. 

The interior is done up as a niche (and, forgive me, cliché) little wine bar should be: it’s filled with old wooden wince crates on the wall and includes a bar made from old wine crates, which was pretty cool.  Even the candle sticks are made from old wine bottles – in particular, Craig Hawkin’s esoteric labelled bottles.

The wines themselves are what you’re here for, though, right?

Not to be outdone by any other reviewer, we went through pretty much the whole gamut of wine options available, starting with a white (for GrubsterGirl) and an orange (for me). 

What, I hear you cry, on earth is an orange wine?  Put simply, it’s a wine that’s orange.  Put more sensibly, it’s a white wine that’s made like a red wine, so instead of separating the juice straight await and allowing it to ferment, you leave it on the lees for longer – in some cases, apparently, for up to a year – which I can imagine would be very tricky to handle. 

My example of an orange wine was Cosimo Maria Daphne.  It felt old and oaky, a little like a red, yes.  It was also pretty powerful and lots of hard work, so good as a sipping wine perhaps, rather than something to take with a meal. 

GrubsterGirl’s white wine was a Chenin Blanc, specifically the Craig Hawkins “C”.  This was much lighter, a bright, fruity and floral wine, with cantaloupe notes and a distinct sweetness, but still with lots of robust flavours.  

Next up, rosé.

Again, two distinct ends of the spectrum.  The lighter rose was another Cosimo Maria Masini, this time the Mathilde.  Dry and oaky, as GG put it: “think sunshine and easy drinking”.

The darker rosé, however, was the opposite.  The Los Frailes Monastrell Rosado was much sweeter, bursting with red fruits and winter berries (think redcurrants and cranberries) and with that enduring richness on the end that you find in some rosés.

Then there’s also the food.  I can’t really resist a good charcuterie and/or cheese board, and they had both on hand.

Then onto the red.  We actually went for the same red – the Hewitson Ms. Harry Grenache Syrah Malbec.  Again, this is relatively easy drinking, but that’s no bad thing for a wine bar – the last thing you need in that context is something you have to struggle with.  This was full bodied – think woody, smoky, rich and buttery.  Lovely. 

They also had lovely olives served in an even more lovely teacup and saucer (actually a great innovation, as it solves the question of what happens to the stones). 

The thing is this, though.  Neither the meat nor the cheese board was cheap.  So I felt the portions were, to be frank, a bit stingy.  But that’s really the end of my criticisms.  Solve that issue (either drop the price or give more away) and you’ve got yourself a lovely little spot to drop in at.