When I first dined at Pizarro shortly after it opened in the autumn/winter of 2011, I noted a few niggling blemishes and hoped they’d be ironed out. After a longer delay than initially planned, I made a return visit on a weekend evening with Templeton Peck, Socialist Worker and the Squinting Brummie to see if it really is worth queuing for the eternally popular Pizarro.

I don’t drink, but the Squinting Brummie and Templeton Peck love a good tipple and opted for a carafe of 2009 Syrah from Tierra de Castilla by Casa Delle Valle. They both seemed pleased by their choice with the Brummie describing it as earthy and reminiscent of blackcurrants.

Drink less and you’ll be wealthier and healthier. Simple.

The Brummie enjoyed his plate of thinly sliced chorizo which had a salty and nutty flavour. Templeton had to stop himself from wolfing down the tender, fresh and creamy scallops all in one go. Socialist Worker was pleased the tenderness of his squid which was complimented nicely by the squidginess of the sautéed artichokes.

It’s always good to meat up.

The world is your scallop.

Someone told me the other day that he had never tasted squid before. Poor soul.

My own starter of Jerusalem artichokes served with goat’s curd and hazelnuts was a delightful layer cake of flavours and textures. The artichoke pieces had a charred, slightly chewy outer layer which quickly gave way to a creamy centre that was accentuated by the light creaminess of the goat’s curd and the crunchy, nutty sweetness of the hazelnuts. The curd had a texture that was curiously both coarse and fluffy at the same time.

No hambush here.

I continued my meat-free trend by opting for sweet potatoes with pomegranate and blue cheese as my main course. The sweet and fluffy sweet potato slices contrasted nicely with the crunchy pomegranate pieces and the bold, tangy and sharp saltiness of the soft blue cheese.

Who says vegetarian food has to be boring?

Socialist Worker was disappointed by the blandness of his cod served upon a bed of beans, although given his crude palate and blundering vocabulary this might not necessarily be the cod’s fault.

I am a jealous Cod.

Although Templeton complained that his onglet steak cooked rare was a little chewy and tough around the edges, the centre of each beefy slice was pink and quivering with plenty of moreish flavour that was enhanced by the sweet onions and hearty gravy. The exceptionally creamy mash went down a treat too.

Steak envy.

Even better than the onglet was the Brummie’s duck breast cooked rare. The moist and tender meat was spectacularly moreish due in no small part to the salty, seafood-ish sauce. The mildly bitter spinach contrasted well with the oranges and pears which weren’t overly sweet. The tender slices of sweet pear were a particularly good match for the duck.

Partially devoured.

For dessert, Socialist Worker plumped for the honey toffee cheesecake. He found it to be soft, fluffy, custardy and very light with a sugary sweetness to it. Templeton Peck and I both went for the soft and fluffy almond tart which had a dense crumb pastry. The tart yoghurt ice cream was icy with a clean, pure aftertaste that cleansed the palate of the nutty almond flavours from the tart very effectively.

The Santiago tart is apparently a traditional dish from northern Spain.

The Squinting Brummie opted for the white chocolate mousse and apple. The diced apple cubes had been dipped in lemon juice giving them a zesty tinge, but the excess juice mean that the top layer of mousse on which they rested turned soggy and a little gloopy. Despite this, once the apples were mixed in with the mousse and cinnamon-flavoured crumble the result was an exquisite multi-layered melange of sweetness and varying textures.

Mousse!

The service at Pizarro varied from mildly brusque to forced civility, but there was no doubting their efficiency. Upon accidentally smashing Templeton’s wine glass when clearing the table at the end of our meal, the shards were promptly cleared away and a replacement, complimentary glass brought to the table within minutes.

The Verdict

Pizarro still isn’t quite perfect but, as at sister restaurant José, the cooking is very good indeed. If you haven’t made you way down there, then you owe to it yourself to do so.

Name: Pizarro

Address: 194 Bermondsey Street, London, SE1 3UB

Phone: 020 7407 7339

Web: http://www.josepizarro.com/restaurants/pizarro/

Opening Hours: seven days a week noon-15.00 and 18.00-23.00.

Reservations: not taken.

Total cost for one person including soft drinks but excluding tip: £30 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

The oddly-named Social Eating House is the latest restaurant in Jason Atherton’s empire and it’s not quite as expensive as Atherton’s flagship Pollen Street Social. Whereas Pollen Street Social has a muted, inoffensive decor suited to its Mayfair location, the Soho-based Social Eating House is a tad more adventurous with wooden floors, exposed brick walls lined with various artworks and moody lighting beaming down from handsome fittings. There are a lot of tables packed in to the relatively small space, along with a few counter spaces for single diners thrown in too. The bare floors and boisterous clientele make for a rather loud experience which won’t suit everyone.

There’s an upstairs bar, with its own dedicated entrance, where you can kill you liver with lots of cocktails if you so desire. Service was efficient which was no surprise given the army of waiting staff. The relatively large menu may look rather traditional at first glance, but many of the dishes have been given an unusual and modern twist.

First things first

Social Eating House’s main menu has a section devoted to jars of pâté-like snacks which feel more at home on the bar menu. Kangaroo Face and I decided to treat them as an amuse bouche and jumped straight in, opting for two of the more intriguing sounding options – the salt cod brandade and the confit pork rillettes.

I was a little underwhelmed by the confit pork rillettes and I’m usually a big fan of anything confit. The slightly coarse but light and easily spreadable rillettes was a touch creamier and fattier than standard rillettes, but not by much. The smooth salted cod cream was far better with its gentle fishy taste and hints of fruitiness. Both were served with a generous portion of bread pre-smeared with salted butter which worked best with the salted cod.

I confit in this jar.

Why are restaurants suddenly putting crisps in everything?

I followed up the jars with a starter of smoked beef tartare. Although I wasn’t convinced that it was any better than a more traditional steak tartare, the light smoky flavour wasn’t overpowering or sickly while the raw beef had a pleasingly firm and bouncy texture. A gentle amount of heat from some horseradish added an extra hint of flavour to a competent starter.

Smoking is prohibited. Or is it?

Kangaroo Face was disappointed with the presentation of his CLT – crab, lettuce and tomatoes – where the lettuce leaves were draped in a careless, unimaginative fashion over the crab and tomatoes. He would also have preferred better quality crab meat such as a claw instead of the bitty head meat. Despite all of this, the numerous ripe, punchy varieties of tomato and the smoky sweetness of the tomato vinaigrette made this a memorable and ultimately pleasing starter.

Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world – except for a nice MLT. Mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They’re so perky, I love that.

Kangaroo Face continued the seafood theme with his main course of roasted cod. The glossy flakes of fish were evenly cooked and the cream sauce made from a shellfish stock was strongly flavoured and pleasant enough. However, there just wasn’t enough contrast in either flavour or texture to hold his interest.

The Picky Glutton is currently listening to Hurts.

I opted for the ‘flamed’ pork chop. The thick slab of evenly cooked pig had a mildly charred exterior that had a firm bite giving way to a tender interior. The flesh had slightly salty and slightly sweet taste that was highlighted by the soy-like drizzling sauce. I was non-plussed by the charred spring onion and the beetroot, but the creamy polenta was far better with its grits-like finely gritted consistency.  As satisfying as the pork and the polenta were, they didn’t really compliment each other and felt instead like ingredients on a plate rather than a consistent whole.

Almost typed ‘flambéed pork chop’.

Kangaroo Face was amused and delighted by his lemon curd pie. The dessert was deconstructed with the pastry crust in loose crumb form while the curd, merginue and sour yoghurt sorbet were all separated from each other. However, the thick and strongly flavoured curd overpowered both the sorbet and the sherbet-like meringue so while each individual element was tasty in its own right, they didn’t work well together. If there’s an order in which they’re supposed to be eaten, then it’s not obvious.

Like a lemon curd pie, that’s amore?

My own dessert combined some unusual ingredients not usually seen together – Szechuan pepper, pineapple, lime and coconut. The combination of Szechuan pepper and lime in the ice cream was an odd one and although the numbing heat of the Szechuan pepper had been significantly reduced, its distinctive flavour was unmistakable and made for a strangely satisfying ice cream. The dried pineapple cubes and slices resembled candy in their sugary sweetness while the coconut cream to the side was almost wispy in its lightness. However, as with the lemon curd pie, none of these elements really worked together.

Has someone been cribbing from Alvin Leung?

Going back for seconds

I had mixed feelings about my first meal at Social Eating House so I had to return for seconds, this time on my own. I started off with a jar of spiced aubergine. It was completely unlike the aubergine dips often found in Lebanese cuisine, instead resembling an unspicy, meat-free version of chilli con carne. The chunky, diced bits of aubergine were flecked with tomato and parsley giving it a sweet flavour – a sweetness which was hard to appreciate if spread over the accompanying slices of bread already spread with salted butter.

Jarhead.

Mushrooms on toast may sound like the dullest dish ever, but it’s far more interesting when the mushrooms appear to have been cooked sous vide. Gelonch in Barcelona sometimes serves supremely stunning meats cooked sous vide, but I was sceptical that the method was really necessary for mushrooms. While the mushrooms were tender, taut and slippery with a very muted flavour when eaten on their own, the real joy was in their intensely buttery and earthy aroma. They only tasted mildly earthy and sour when eaten on the slice of toast pre-smeared with cep purée. Choosing to purêe cep seemed odd too – part of the joy of cep mushrooms is their smooth, silky texture which was lost here.

Mushrooms.

Toast.

Curried hake sounds like a very heavy dish, but the soft, fluffy fish was only lightly spiced. This gentle curry flavour was enhanced by the thin but distinctly flavoured cauliflower sauce served on the side in a small pot to be poured at your discretion. A separate, thicker cauliflower sauce was poured over a firm chunk of cauliflower, enhancing that vegetable’s mildly bitter taste. The firm cauliflower and baby broccoli provided a contrast in texture to the fluffy hake, but the baby squid and grated cheese seemed unnecessary.

Don’t hake me.

Kangaroo Face had almost opted for the honey almond sponge on our first visit, but decided not too declaring that he wasn’t ‘about to spend £6.50 on a sponge cake, no matter how good it is’. That’s his loss – the sponge turned out to be far more satisfying than either of our desserts the first time around.

The dense, small crumbed sponge had been soaked in honey – the moist texture and light, syrupy sweetness was reminiscent of the Indian dessert gulab jamun. The crunchy almond pieces provided a counterpoint to all the softness, while a thick, tangy orange coulis provided a sweet citrusy burst. The goats curd ice cream provided a tart shot of refreshment after all those bold flavours and textures, although it needed a cleaner aftertaste to be a truly effective palate cleanser.

Not all sponges are created equal.

The Verdict

Social Eating House is already wildly popular with Soho’s sozzled, novelty-seeking bourgeoisie but I’m more ambivalent about the place. Some dishes are very good indeed, but others are merely satisfactory. Given the choice, I’d rather eat at 10 Greek Street, Newman Street Tavern or Duck Soup which are all similarly priced or cheaper. Although none of those restaurants attempt to replicate Social’s creative twists, they’re far more successful in serving up consistently good dishes. The only snag is that out of those three only Newman Street Tavern, like Social Eating House, accepts reservations.

Name: Social Eating House

Address: 58 Poland Street, London W1F 7NR

Phone: 0207 993 3251

Web: http://www.socialeatinghouse.com

Opening Hours: Monday – Saturday noon–14.30 and 17.30–22.30

Reservations: essential.

Average cost for one person including service and free tap water: £45-50 (add at least £20 extra if drinking booze) 

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Some restaurants open with a blaze of publicity and hype, while others open quietly and slowly but surely build up a sterling reputation through word of mouth. Newman Street Tavern is one of the latter, but it’s hard to understand why this gem of a restaurant hasn’t been showered with plaudits from the outset. The service is friendly and efficient, the wood-panelled dining room with its eye-catching staircase is handsome and, most importantly of all, the seasonal menu is top notch.

First things first

Trout is often seen as a second-rate substitute for salmon which is not entirely undeserved, but the cured trout here is a fine alternative to smoked salmon which is becoming an increasingly cliched ingredient and dish. The thin slices of lean trout had a tart, fruity, slightly herby taste to them that’s refreshingly different from smoked salmon.

Don’t turn up your snout at trout.

Even better was the grey mullet in a garlic broth. The thick, meaty chunks of fish had a surprising lightness to it which was complimented very nicely by the broth. Despite its pronounced garlickiness, the broth didn’t overwhelm the fish but instead enhanced its meaty morishness.

Mullet – one of the least sexiest words in the English language

A side dish of light and tender carrot pieces flavoured with fennel went down nicely, as did potatoes fried with garlic and parsley. The crisp and buttery little chunks were almost like hash browns and I love hash browns (sorry folks, no photos of either of these side dishes).

A slice of almond tart served with almond ice cream sounds rather monotonous and dull, but that was far from the case. The crumbly, nutty tart had a warm bottom layer of oozing almond paste that wasn’t excessively sweet. The moderately large ice crystals in the distinctively flavoured ice cream added a refreshing jolt that neatly balanced out the warm, relatively heavy tart.

I’m a tart for tarts.

Going back for seconds

I wasn’t expecting much from the onion tart starter on my second visit, but I was pleasantly surprised by the sweet custard-like flavour of the fluffy filling. The pastry was just right too – neither too hard and crunchy nor too soft and crumbly.

Onion night.

The pork served with beer braised onions was much more than the sum of its parts. The fatty moreishness and charred sweetness of the hearty chunk of pork was complimented exceedingly well by the tangy moreishness and sweetness of the tender onions. It was a warming and satisfying dish – like a heartfelt hug from a long lost friend.

That was a somewhat tortured metaphor, but this little piggy really did hit the spot.

The spiced cauliflower was a good match for the delicious pork chop. The firm vegetables were lightly dusted with a masala-like mixture of spices that tickled the palate rather than overwhelming it.

May a thousand cauliflowers bloom.

Cranachan is apparently a traditional Scottish dessert and this was my first time at trying it. The surprisingly thick and heavy set yoghurt was almost like cottage cheese. It was dotted with hearty oats and topped with a slice of tart rhubarb, but there wasn’t quite enough of either so the heavy and monotonous creaminess of the yoghurt would’ve dominated this dessert if it wasn’t for the gentle smokiness of the whiskey. A potentially good dessert that needs a little rebalancing to make it truly great.

Unleash the cranachan!

The Verdict

I’m a big fan of the Newman Street Tavern and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be either. The handsome decor, friendly service and elegantly understated yet accomplished cooking put many competing restaurants to shame.

Name: Newman Street Tavern

Branch tried: 48 Newman Street, London W1T 1QQ

Phone: 020 3667 1445

Web: http://www.newmanstreettavern.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday noon-23.00 and Sunday 10.30-17.00.

Reservations: highly recommended

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: £35-50 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

A lot of new London restaurants have adopted some variant of the stripped back ‘industrial’ look common in Shoreditch – bare brick walls, exposed ventilation ducts and naked concrete floors. I’m thoroughly bored of this now cliched aesthetic, so I was pleased to discover that Story has opted for an entirely different style of decor.

Situated on the site of a now demolished public lavatory near Tower Bridge, Story immediately stands out from its neighbours thanks to its handsome wood panelling and floor-to-ceiling glass windows. These windows not only give a view of the small but picturesque lawn out front, but also of the Shard in the distance. The high ceiling and the light streaming in through the big windows makes the small dining room feel airy and much larger than it actually is. Story’s interior decorators couldn’t resist the dreaded bare concrete floors though, which meant that sound bounced off them helping create a relatively noisy dining experience.

Story only has tasting menus – a £65 ten course menu which is cheaper than similarly sized menus at other Modernist restaurants in London. There’s also a slightly cheaper six course menu at £45, although skipping three savoury courses and one of the three desserts for the sake of £20 is barely worth it unless you’re also short on time. Shorter, cheaper menus are apparently served at lunchtime.

The Euro Hedgie and I opted for the ten course menu which started at a break neck pace with the starters coming out so quickly that we barely had time to finish the amuse bouche and catch our breath. The three amuse bouche were nothing if not visually arresting. A vividly orange coloured and earthy tasting flower filled with a salty oyster cream set the meal off with a bang.

The flower of one’s youth.

I was non-plussed by the rabbit ‘sandwich’, a finger-sized puff of anonymised, textureless meat although I did appreciate the macabre whimsy of the tart, pickled carrot topping. The Hedgie was more enamoured with it and while texture can be successfully separated from taste to stunning effect, I remain unconvinced that this can be done with meat.

Wascally Wabit.

My favourite amuse bouche, which the Hedgie wasn’t as fond of, was the cod skin. Resembling a posh poppadom shard, the crisp crackling had a salty, intensely fishy taste balanced out by a herby garnish.

Cod piece.

Following the quirky sophistication of the amuse bouche was a starter that was both surprisingly different and simpler in style. A hearty, chunky serving of sourdough bread was, for some reason, presented in a leather pouch. Accompanying it was beef dripping and rapeseed oil in the form of a candle. Although the bread was suitably tart and hearty, it also overpowered the lardy taste of the dripping in its melted, liquid form. The beef dripping took on a bolder taste that was more able to hold its own against the bread when it congealed into a concentrated paste. In this form it was far too easy to imagine the lard blocking up my arteries, although the fruity meat relish added some much needed moistness and lightness.

Fat of the land.

Fruit of the loom.

Fat head.

The next dish apparently combined some of the chef’s favourite flavours – apple, burnt onion and gin. The Hedgie rightly pointed out that gin isn’t a flavour but a lifestyle choice, although that wasn’t the main problem with this dish. The sweetness of the burnt onion was balanced out by the acidity of the apple and the booziness of the gin, while the thyme oil acted as a unifying element. However, this rather intellectual combination just wasn’t especially satisfying at a gut level.

Gin isn’t a flavour, it’s a lifestyle choice.

If the shellfish used in the scallops, cucumber and dill ash dish weren’t raw, then they were at least very lightly cooked. The tender, quivering scallops were startlingly fresh with a taste and scent evocative of the fishy smell that hits you as you walk through the door of a fish monger. I was thoroughly unconvinced by the sweet, crisp cucumber balls and weird spheres of dill ash which not only added little to the scallops, but actively drew attention away from them.

The scallops are both small and far away.

One of my favourite dishes of the evening was the crab with smoked leek, rapeseed, pear and lovage. Although I’d have preferred a firm meaty claw rather the bitty head meat, it was complimented very nicely by the strong, herby lovage oil and the gently smoked leek, while the pear added some crisp, refreshing sweetness. It was so good, I ate it all before I could remember to take a photo.

Potatoes usually form the basis of a side dish rather than a course in of themselves. Here, a firm hemisphere of potato was served alongside a creamy soft mash that had an acidic flavour due to the addition of radish. A few sprigs of barley grass added an extra layer of moreishness, although the oddly neutral black oil was a strange addition. It all sounds very odd, but it’s just flavoursome and interesting enough to work as a tasting course in of itself.

Sack of potatoes.

Beetroot, raspberry and horseradish sounds like a random selection of words thrown onto a page rather than a dish, but this odd combination of ingredients worked surprisingly well. The earthy taste of the small cylindrical pieces of beetroot were complimented nicely by the sweetness of the raspberries, with the horseradish acting as a spicy palate cleanser. The horseradish takes the unusual form of small, icy, crumbly blocks. Somehow infusing the typical horseradish heat into a crumbly form with a very atypical icy cold finish emphasised the spice of the horseradish rather then detracting from it. Splendid.

The heat of snow.

The final savoury course was a more traditional affair, but no less satisfying. A hearty and meaty slab of ox cheek cut away into exceptionally tender strands and was served in a moreish sauce. The moreishness of the sauce and the meatiness of the beef was complimented very well by sweet and sour hemispheres of cherry as well as by the bitter leaves and the distinctive taste of the firm cauliflower. The flavour of the small cauliflower floret was enhanced by a yeasty cauliflower cream that was very satisfying in its own right.

Turn the other cheek.

If you’ve never had milk delivered to your doorstop in glass bottles, then you not appreciate the whimsy of the first dessert delivered to the table in miniature milk bottles. The bottles were filled with a thin layer of tart and sour rhubarb coulis topped with a layer of custard cream, although this upper layer was more milky than creamy or custard-ish. This yoghurt-ish concoction was pleasant enough, but it would have been rather forgettable if it wasn’t for the quirky presentation.

Cream of the crop?

Far more interesting was the lemon sorbet, although this simple name hardly does this dessert justice. The sour, acidic fruit was represented in numerous forms from an icy, crumbly sorbet to a bittersweet cream and a crisp, bitter, icy shell that been pockmarked to resemble the skin of a lemon. Delightfully accomplished.

Lemony fresh.

The final dessert of the evening took inspiration from Goldilocks and Three Bears. Three small bowls, each filled with a different oat porridge – too salty, too sweet and just right. The too salty porridge was exceptionally, almost inedibly salty and oddly flavoured with what appeared to be shaved almonds. The two sweet porridge tasted heavily of honey, but in a very sickly, artificial way that was reminiscent of Sugar Puffs cereal. The third and final porridge, which should’ve been ‘just right’, was an odd tasting combination of sharp lemon and fennel, sweet raisins and butter. None of the porridges were especially satisfying.

Too salty.

Too sweet.

Just right?

The Verdict

I’m fond of the elegant decor at Story and there’s no doubting the whimsical inventiveness of the kitchen, but the food was by no means an unconditional success. Some dishes were indeed wonderful but others sacrificed accomplished, balanced cooking for the sake of a visual in-joke where the punchline falls flat. Nevertheless, Story shows great promise.

Despite my hesitancy, Story is already incredibly popular with reservations hard to come by. However, until the kitchen breaks itself in I’d much rather eat at the nearby Magdalen. Although Magdalen’s style is very different and isn’t as flashy in its presentation, its cooking is consistently excellent and that’s a story worth writing home about.

Name: Story

Address: 201 Tooley Street, London SE1 2UE

Phone: 020 7183 2117

Web: http://www.restaurantstory.co.uk/

Opening Hours: Tuesday-Saturday noon-14.00 and 18.30-21.00.

Reservations: essential

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and service when shared between two people: £76 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

For many Londoners burritos are nothing more than a mildly exotic rice sandwich – a lunchtime filler to help them get through the working day. Most will devote little thought into choosing one; the idea of travelling to find the best burrito in the capital would be as alien and incomprehensible as hunting out the best egg and cress sandwich. This is a real shame as burritos, and its close relation the taco, are among the most misrepresented ‘ethnic’ dishes in London – the vast majority are average at best, with only a few worthy of praise.

Following my review of Death by Burrito, frequent dining companion The Euro Hedgie challenged me to to find the best burritos in London. There’s much more to Mexican cuisine than burritos and tacos of course – good huevos rancheros, empanadas, moles and tamales, to name but a few dishes, are even harder to find than a good burrito. Nonetheless, it was the humble burrito and taco that got me addicted to Mexican food in the first place.

If you just want to get straight to the reviews, or even right down to The Winners, then feel free to skip this introduction where I explain what makes a good burrito and taco for me.

Building a better burrito

Burritos may be the equivalent of a sandwich, but that’s no excuse for having a bad one. A burrito should consist of a hearty, flavoursome meat filling, a hot spicy sauce and a zesty, coarsely ground guacamole to balance out the spiciness. Rice is, as I understand it, a relatively recent American addition with more authentic Mexican burritos omitting it. If rice is going to be present in a burrito, then the ratio between meat and rice should be in favour of the meat.

Burritos almost always come with a choice of beans – black turtle beans or mashed, refried pinto beans. The former should be salty, the latter should creamy and nutty and both should be hearty and not too soft or mushy. I’m not a fan of either cheese or sour cream in my burritos, so I usually order without them. All of this should be tightly wrapped in a tortilla with little to no leakage. A burrito shouldn’t be served ‘wet’, i.e. topped with a mixture of tomato sauce and cheese as is common in godawful Tex-Mex restaurants. If I wanted a bastardised enchilada, then I’d order one.

Tacos

Despite their initial similarities, tacos are a different kettle of fish altogether. Burritos use wheat flour tortillas, whereas a good taco should use a corn flour tortilla instead. Corn flour tortillas, as I understand it, are difficult if not impossible to make in sizes above four or five inches in diameter – any bigger and the thin membrane falls apart which is why all burritos use 12 inch wheat flour tortillas. Corn flour tortillas have a slightly more uneven thickness but a fluffier texture than a wheat flour tortilla. They should have a distinctive nutty taste, further setting them apart, so any taco that uses a wheat flour tortilla is but a pale imitation. Any taco that uses a hard shell tortilla, which obscures and brutalises the taste and texture of the filling, earns my instant disdain.

Some of the eateries reviewed here treat tacos as nothing more than miniature burritos, overstuffing them with the same fillings as a burrito. This is a mistake – less is more when it comes to tacos. What fillings there are should be carefully chosen allowing them to shine through – meat, a garnish, perhaps some sauce and that’s it.

Having said all of that, I’m not above trying some of the quirkier, more gimmicky burritos and tacos available in London.

Meat-iple choice

Pork is my meat of choice when it comes to burritos and tacos, although I can be persuaded to nosh on chicken, beef and chorizo as well. Pork is often derided by some as an inferior, less flavoursome meat but the right cut from the right pig in the right hands can be a thing of beauty.

Postres

Despite my best efforts, one cannot survive on burritos and tacos alone. Horchata, a soft drink made from rice and cinnamon, can be a starchy but very refreshing thirst quencher. It’s a perfect way to wash down all that meat and carbs as long as the drink isn’t too heavily overloaded with cinnamon.

Sweet tamales, where corn meal and fruit are steamed together while wrapped in a corn husk, are hard to come by. A good alternative dessert are churros – deep fried dough sticks, dusted with sugar and cinnamon and served with either chocolate sauce or cajeta, a dipping sauce somewhat similar to caramel or dulce de leche. A crisp exterior should give way to a soft, fluffy interior that’s free of excess oil.

When and where

Over the past four months I’ve endeavoured to eat at every restaurant and market stall serving burritos and tacos that I can find in London. This includes lunch places, which are primarily open at lunchtime catering to office workers, although some do stay open into the evening.

A special exception had to be made for Tex-Mex restaurants. Every Tex-Mex restaurant I’ve ever been to has been unspeakably awful. Their continued existence gives Mexican food a bad name in Britain and probably explains Richard Hammond’s bigoted comments about Mexican food in that episode of Top Gear (you know the one I mean). They can’t be ignored entirely though and I squeezed in visits to a few Tex-Mex restaurants that I managed to randomly stumble across London.

Without further ado…

Table of Contents (click a link to jump straight to a specific review)

Restaurants

Boho Mexica

Cafe Chula

Cantina Laredo

Crazy Homies

El Camion

La Bodega Negra

La Perla

Lupita

Mestizo

Santo

Taqueria

Wahaca

Lunch places

1910

Adobo

Benito’s Hat

Burrito Bros

Burrito Cafe

Burro Burrito

Chilango

Chimi’s

Chipotle

El Burrito

El Mexicana

Flying Burrito

La Catrina

Mexway

Picante Grill

Poncho No 8

Tortilla

Market stalls and food trucks

Ambriento

Buen Provecho

Daddy Donkey

Freebird

Kimchinary

Luardos

Santana Grill

Taco Stand

Take-aways

Amigos

Bar Burrito

Mexican Express

Mi Casa

Tacolisa

Wrap It Up

Miscellaneous

L’Autre

Barrio Central

Bombay Burrito

Cafe Bebek

Comboco

The Diner

Mildred’s

Robin Hood

Tacuba

Whole Foods

Tex-Mex restaurants

Cafe Mexicali

Chico Bandito

Chiquito

Desperados N1

El Paso (Hoxton)

Loco Mexicano

The Winners

Restaurants

Boho Mexica

Boho Mexica has a bad rep, but I honestly can’t fathom why. The horchata is pretty good for starters – milky, a touch creamy and sweet with only a light dusting of cinnamon for flavour.

horchata at Boho Mexica

Boho Mexica doesn’t serve up burritos, but it does have plenty of tacos all of which use fluffy corn flour tortillas. The unusual sea bass option sees some slightly smoky, tangy fish topped by a surprisingly sauerkraut-esque coleslaw that’s citrusy and sharp and not too heavy so it doesn’t overpower the taste of the sea bass.

sea bass tacos at Boho Mexica

The shrimp tacos use sweet, meaty prawns that have a tomato-ish taste to them that’s complimented nicely by the sharp acidity of the pickled red cabbage. There was quite a lot of spillage though with a substantial amount of the oily, slightly smoky sauce dribbling out onto the plate.

prawn tacos at Boho Mexica

Sadly, the most disappointing of the tacos I tried were the ones filled with ‘Mayan-style’ braised pork. Although sweet and slightly spicy, the meat lacked the tangy moreishness I was expecting. The sweet, sharp pickled onion garnish made up for this to some extent though.

braised pork tacos at Boho Mexica

Sadly the tre leches cake was unavailable on the weekday evening of my visit, so I opted for the corn on the cob instead. Having corn on the cob as a dessert is unusual from an European perspective and it’s expensive for what it is at £4.50. Having said that, it was still an interesting dish. The tender kernels were topped with a silky sheen of creamy mayonnaise, some sharp, slightly sour cheese shavings and a squirt of sharp, zesty lime juice. The scattering of chilli powder was muted though. Overall, it’s similar in taste to tinned creamed corn, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

corn on the cob dessert at Boho Mexica

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Cafe Chula

Located in Camden Lock Place with a view of the water, Cafe Chula is an irritating place to eat. Seating is uncomfortable and cramped, opening hours are erratic, the horchata was unavailable and service was rushed on my weekday evening visit. Although Chula is a no-burrito joint, all the tacos used nutty, fluffy corn tortillas. The chicken tacos used an annoyingly bitty, textureless mush for meat, but at least the earthy, tingly sauce was flavoursome.

chicken tacos at Cafe Chula

The pork al pastor tacos were far better. The moist chunks of smoky pork were topped with a fruity, zesty pineapple sauce that meshed nicely with the tingly spiciness of the relish.

pork al pastor tacos at Cafe Chula

The prawn tacos were surprisingly good. Although a touch small, the crustaceans were firm and fresh with a musky flavour that was complimented rather than overwhelmed by the chunky guacamole.

prawn tacos at Cafe Chula

The only major disappointment of my meal was the tre leches cake. Although the sponge was reasonably moist, it wasn’t as airy and fluffy as versions available elsewhere. It was topped by dry, desiccated, flavourless coconut rather than the evaporated, condensed and whole milks used elsewhere. This made for rather dry, tough eating.

coconut sponge cake at Cafe Chula

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £8

Cantina Laredo

Located in Covent Garden, this restaurant is the only British branch of an American chain. On both of my visits the place was packed to the rafters with unimaginative Yankee tourists. On my first visit I went slightly off-piste and started off with a ceviche. Except tossing flavourless flecks of salmon and cooked shrimp in lime juice, topping it with sweet corn and cheese and then serving it in a hard tortilla shell doesn’t count as a ceviche. A war crime against my stomach perhaps, but not a ceviche.

Vom.

I should’ve known better than to have ordered the chicken enchilada following the dismal ceviche, but the alleged presence of a chocolate mole piqued my interest – very few Mexican restaurants serve dishes with moles. Sadly the bone dry chicken-filled tortilla tubes were topped with an excessively sweet sauce that lacked the depth of flavour of a real mole.

What was I thinking?

The churros were unavailable on my first visit, so I opted for the flan instead – a sort of Mexican creme caramel. Except the dessert that arrived on my table wasn’t a delicately soft flan but resembled a stodgy cheesecake instead.

What the blazes is this?

I really didn’t want to return to Cantina Laredo, but I was obligated to do so having failed to have any tacos the first time around. The pork tacos started out well with thick, nutty corn flour tortillas, but each one was stuffed to the point of overflowing. The small, stewed chunks of pig were smothered under a torrent of pineapple chunks, onions, coriander and bell pepper pieces. The overwhelming tastes were of sugary sweetness and crunchy pepperiness rather than a moreish mix of fruity acidity and meaty moreishness. In other words, these pork tacos were crap.

I’m doing this all for you.

The churros were even worse. The excessively soft tubes of pastry tasted stale and were hollow in the centre. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were yum yums rescued from a supermarket skip. Even the cajeta was rubbish – it was more like a watery milk chocolate drink than a caramel-ish dipping sauce.

Now you’re just taking the piss.

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £14

El Camion

I wasn’t expecting much from the colourfully decorated El Camion and the sour mood of the grumpy waitress did little to reassure me. The pork burrito was sloppily wrapped, but it’s clearly meant to be eaten with a knife and fork rather than with one’s hands given its appearance with a side serving of vinegarish salad and tomato rice. I wasn’t pleased by the presence of sour cream daubed on the meat despite my request to exclude it, but the pork was surprisingly good. The hearty serving of pig was dense and fatty with a gentle woody flavour to it while the pinto beans were firm. No sauces were applied, with bottled sauces provided on each table instead.

pork burrito at El Camion

Sadly the tacos used wheat flour tortillas. The fillings weren’t terribly impressive either. The pork tacos used mildly spicy, tender strands of pork but it was hard to make out as it was buried underneath some mediocre tomato salsa and a bland, smooth guacamole.

El Camion pork tacos

pork tacos at El Camion

The fish tacos used meaty, moist chunks of tilapia, but as before, the smothering of salsa and guacamole made them hard to appreciate. The chorizo tacos were the best of the lot, but that’s damning with faint praise. Although meaty and mildly salty, the chorizo slices weren’t especially fatty and ultimately forgettable.

Sorry folks, forgot to take photos of the tilapia tacos. Here are some chorizo tacos instead.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.50

Average price per burrito: £8

Crazy Homies

Crazy Homies reminds me of a student flat – colourful, friendly but goosebumpingly cold due to the lack of heating. The savoury menu has some interesting seafood options such as the scallop tacos. Although big and meaty, the scallops lack the distinctive zing I’d expect from that shellfish. The sweet corn and excessively soft black bean topping don’t really suit the scallops either. Although corn tortillas are used, they were warmed over a little longer than they should have been. This resulted in a rather inflexible, slightly crisp membrane that was prone to breaking.

scallop tacos at Crazy Homies

Mahi Mahi, a tuna-like fish not often seen in Europe, turned up in my burrito. The generous helping of dense and moist fish outnumbered the rice although the zesty dressing was oddly inconsistent – bold in places, muted in others. It also needed a little something extra – perhaps firmer, saltier black turtle beans. Although I opted to have it dry, the burrito still came with the guacamole and sour cream on top rather than on the side. Still, at least the guacamole was chunky and citrusy.

burrito at Crazy Homies

mahi mahi burrito at Crazy Homies

The pork used in the pig tacos was a little dry, but the firm and dense meat was still pleasing to the mouth. A tingly, earthy spicy sauce was very flavoursome, but there wasn’t enough of it. There was plenty of the same nicely made guacamole that accompanied the burrito, but these tacos also used the same troublesome tortillas as the scallop tacos.

pork tacos at Crazy Homies

Although the churros were a touch too oily and seemingly dusted with caster sugar rather than brown sugar or cinnamon, the dough sticks were very buttery with a crisp exterior and a delightfully fluffy interior. The accompanying bitter chocolate dipping sauce was bizarre though. I like bitter chocolate, but the sauce here was also inedibly acidic.

churros at Crazy Homies

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7-12

Average price per burrito: £11

La Bodega Negra

I’ve visited both the upstairs diner and downstairs restaurant at La Bodega Negra before. This time around I visited the upstairs diner and sampled some corn flour tacos from their burrito-less menu. My favourite had to be the chorizo and potato tacos where salty, fatty, soft ndjua-style chorizo was complimented nicely by starchy bits of potato.

chorizo and potato tacos at La Bodega Negra

The pork al pastor tacos came a close second. The woody, slightly smoky meat worked well with the smooth sweetness of the pineapple bits.

pork al pastor tacos at La Bodega Negra

One of my favourite tacos at La Bodega Negra from my previous visits were the prawn variety. Sadly the prawns are no longer quivering and just-cooked, but cooked through and a touch stodgy. They are meaty and fresh though and while the pickled onions left me non-plussed, the zesty, slightly smoky dressing made up for it. Sadly the lamb tacos, while tender, were bland.

prawn tacos at La Bodega Negra

lamb tacos at La Bodega Negra

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

La Perla/Cafe Pacifico

La Perla is a small but multinational chain with restaurants and bars located in Covent Garden, Paris and Sydney. I’ve included the Covent Garden branch here with all the other ‘real’ Mexican restaurants, but its expansive menu resembles a Tex-Mex menu in some respects too.

All of the tacos use corn flour tortillas and, no matter the filling, all are garnished with onion and coriander and served with a selection of sauces on the side. A fairly zesty green coloured sauce is joined by a fairly strong chilli and garlic sauce. There’s also a small salad of nutty beans and sweet, crisp celery.

The best of the taco fillings was the prawn – fresh, firm and just cooked, each little crustacean was quivering and juicy. The same couldn’t be said for the poultry options – both the chicken and duck were very dry. The excessively soft duck was almost mistaken for  pork or chicken – it was that anonymous. The separate shredded chicken option was a flavourless mush.

prawn taco at La Perla

Duck taco at La Perla. I ate the chicken taco before I could photograph it.

Despite being cooked medium rare the steak filling was also dry and characterless, while the shredded beef option was a bit too salty.

beef taco at La Perla

If the tacos were ultimately underwhelming, the chicken burrito was positively bad. Served wet with a vaguely tomato and coriander flavoured sauce, this was an ultimately bland burrito despite the best efforts of the unwanted dollops of sour cream and the creamy, slightly spicy guacamole. The moist, but bland shreds of chicken filling were forgettable while the rice had probably been tipped out of an Uncle Ben’s packet. At least the black turtle beans were mildly tangy, but if the beans are the best thing about a burrito, then something has gone very wrong.

chicken burrito at La Perla

The chicken inside the chicken burrito at La Perla.

Given the less than stellar savoury dishes, I wasn’t expecting much from the churros but the dessert was surprisingly inoffensive. Each dough stick was very crisp and free of excess oil, although none were particularly flavoursome or fluffy on the inside and lacked the attractive golden colour of the very best churros. Oddly, the churros was served with an anonymous blob of budget chocolate ice cream rather than a chocolate dipping sauce.

churros at La Perla

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £13

Average price per burrito: £11

Lupita

Lupita has a branch near Spitalfields, but I ended up paying a few lunchtime visits to the Charing Cross branch instead. All of the tacos used corn flour tortillas, but while somewhat lacking in the taste department they were thicker and heartier than usual. This made them better at holding in all the fillings.

The crustacean meat in the prawn tacos was inconsistent – some prawns were firm and fresh while others were distinctly underwhelming. Surprisingly, the sweet and creamy melted cheese complimented the mildly zesty dressing nicely.

prawn tacos at Lupita

The chorizo used in the chorizo and potato tacos is far from the best chorizo you’ll ever have, but the fatty chunks of sausage are still very satisfying – especially when taken with a dollop of tender potato. The tender, zesty strands of pork used in the pork pibli tacos also hit the bill.

chorizo and potato tacos at Lupita

pibil pork tacos at Lupita

None could compare to the cactus tacos though. The soft and tender chunks of vegetable were juicy, somewhat citrusy and had an unexpected but pleasing aloe vera-esque flavour. It was all very refreshing which contrasted nicely with the surprisingly hot salsa.

cactus tacos at Lupita

Lupita’s pork burrito has the benefit of some good quality meat, but needs some punchier flavours to go along with it. The loosely wrapped, rectangular package is best eaten with cutlery than hands. The pork filling has a firm bite that gives way to a fruity, juicy center. There was more pork than rice, while the the creme fraiche was refreshing and a welcome change from the usual cloying heaviness of sour cream. There was minimal guacamole though and the vaunted chipotle mayonnaise only had a very mild amount of heat.

burrito at Lupita

pork burrito at Lupita

You’ll need a better drink than the horchata to wash it all down. An excessive amount of cinnamon was used in an attempt to disguise the wateriness of this drink, but the overuse of the spice also impaired refreshment.

horchata at Lupita

Although slightly chewy on the outside and only mildly fluffy on the inside, Lupita’s churros are buttery, free of excess oil and generously dusted with cinnamon. The thick, moderately sweet cameral-esque cajeta is a better bet than the forgettable chocolate sauce though – the latter is, at best, mildly malty.

churros without sauce at Lupita

churros with chocolate sauce at Lupita

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Average price per burrito: £10

Mestizo

Mestizo leaves burritos to its spin-off El Burrito, concentrating on other dishes including tacos. Although the corn tortillas used here only had a muted nuttiness, that’s the only fault I can raise against the tacos here. The pork pibil variety benefits from zesty, fruity stands of tender pig.

pork pibil tacos at Mestizo

Even better are the pollo con mole tacos. The chicken itself may be rather forgettable, but the earthy, nutty, slightly bitter mole had great depth of flavour. This sauce was enhanced and complimented by a sour cream that looks more like cottage cheese. It’s still tart and creamy, but not as heavy or cloying as the sour creams I’m used to and has a firm bite too.

pollo con mole tacos at Mestizo

The vegetarian cactus option is no poor relation. The sweet, juicy slithers of cactus are best described as a cross between melon, bell peppers and cucumbers in terms of taste and texture. They’re neither too soft nor too firm.

cactus tacos at Mestizo

The horchata was a milky, starchy delight with only a slight hint of cinnamon.

horchata at Mestizo

Mestizo is one of the few places in London that serves up sweet tamales. Served as a pair, the first smooth mash was nutty and mildly sweetened while the second was fruitier thanks to its flecks of raisin.

sweet tamales at Mestizo

Rating: ★★★★★

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.50

Santo

The burritos at this restaurant near Portobello Market are smaller than usual, but no less interesting. The pork variety is a touch too dry for my taste, but it’s also hearty and slightly offaly with a tender, slightly bitty texture reminiscent of ham hock. There’s an even balance between the pork and the rice, while the sweet, crisp vegetables were a refreshing touch. The tortilla was watertight with no spillage whatsoever.

Although I’m not usually a fan of sour cream, the slightly tart version used here isn’t too runny or heavy and is essential if you choose to dress the burrito with the extra spicy sauce which packs one hell of a wallop. Probably made from jalapeños or scotch bonnet peppers rather than bird’s eye chillies, the extra spicy sauce is initially fruity and tingly at first, eventually giving way to heat sweats, tears and a burning sensation on the tongue. Excellent.

pork burrito at Santo

Although the king prawn burrito used the same perfectly wrapped tortilla as the pork version, it otherwise couldn’t have been more different. Although the crustaceans are rather small, they are firm and complimented well by the smooth but zesty and slightly salty guacamole. There’s a slight hint of olives, but most of the flavour here comes from the beans which are dressed in a very flavoursome, chocolate-like sauce.

king prawn burrito at Santo

Of the two taco varieties I tried, the ox cheek version is easily my favourite. The dense, yet tender meat has a musky earthiness that is simply delicious. It’s topped with just onions and coriander, which was all that was needed. Perfect.

ox cheek tacos at Santo

Santo’s cactus tacos weren’t quite as show stopping as the ones at Mestizo, but they’re still very good. The moist, squidgy, sweet vegetable slithers were complimented nicely by a thin, but sweet and milky cream. Both the ox cheek and the cactus tacos used fluffy, mildly nutty corn tortillas.

cactus tacos at Santo

Compared to the extensive savoury menu, the short dessert menu feels like an after thought. The only dessert that caught my attention was the chocolate cake which had a nutty, malty taste to it. Not very chocolatey, but still pleasing, especially as it melted on the tongue. The slightly tart flakes of milk ice cream added a much needed refreshing touch.

To top it all, Santo easily has the warmest, friendliest, most welcoming service of any Mexican restaurant I’ve been to in London.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7.50

Average price per burrito: £12

Taqueria

Taqueria is located deep within the wilds of Notting Hill and, as it name suggests, concentrates mostly on tacos. The pork belly tacos weren’t as fatty as I had hoped. Their texture was also a little inconsistent, with some chunks of meat soft and tender, while others were a little firmer. The crisp tart cabbage provided a good contrast in texture, but the dominant flavour here was of the sweet, fruity sauce rather than the pork itself.

pork belly tacos at Taqueria

Although the prawns used in the prawn tacos were forgettable, the contrast between the cool, creamy guacamole and the tingly, spicy chipotle made up for this to some extent.

prawn tacos at Taqueria

The chorizo and cheese tacos were visual oddities. Here the lean, beef-like bits of chorizo were enveloped in an omelette-like cheese jacket. The entire thing was then wrapped inside the nutty corn flour tortilla. Although hearty and unusual, these tacos were ultimately rather stodgy and didn’t quite work due to the rather bland cheese and chorizo.

chorizo with cheese tacos at Taqueria

Taqueria’s churros were a bit too crunchy for my liking, but the pastry was at least buttery and there was a generous dusting of cinnamon. The cajeta is pretty good though – milky, tangy and sweet. It’s almost too good for the imperfect churros.

churros with cajeta at Taqueria

Taqueria’s horchata was a bit watery with the starchy and cinnamon elements toned down in favour of more milkiness, but it was still a refreshing and tasty drink.

horchata at Taqueria

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Wahaca

The pork pibli tacos used to be the stand out, must-have signature dish at Wahaca, but standards have dropped as this chain has expanded beyond its original Covent Garden location. The version served up at the Wardour Street Soho branch used fluffy corn flour tortillas, although their nuttiness was muted at best. The moist strands of pork were firm and lightly smoky, but it took a back seat to the sharp and sour pickled onions and the fresh coriander. The marinade coating the meat left me non-plussed, but at least the spicy sauce had some kick to it, numbing my lips.

pibil pork tacos at Wahaca

Wahaca’s chicken tinga burrito had a rice-meat balance slightly in favour of the zesty rice. The moist stands of poultry are accompanied by some earthy turtle beans and a tingly, moderately spicy sauce. The lightly baked tortilla is prone to cracking though, leading to some unwanted content spillage. A competent, if unexceptional burrito.

chicken burrito at Wahaca

The horchata was watery and tasted mostly of cinnamon.

horchata at Wahaca

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4

Average price per burrito: £7

Lunch places

1910

Locating 1910 deep within the bowels of the Westfield shopping centre near Shepherd’s Bush can be tricky if you have a poor sense of direction. It’s downright impossible if you rely on the centre’s touchscreen maps which are woefully inaccurate. Although it’s open well into the evening, having dinner in a shopping centre made me feel dirty and it’s not something I want to repeat.

Having said that, the food is surprisingly decent. The fluffy corn flour tortillas used in the tacos are distinctively nutty, but they can become very soggy from both the tomatoes and lettuce, as well as the mildly tingly hot sauce. The pork filling is moist with a vague hint of smokiness but was otherwise rather anonymous. The beef is better – dense, earthy with a mild degree of spicy heat although it’s rather dry.

pork taco at 1910

beef taco at 1910

The chicken burrito was tightly wrapped with an even proportion of meat and rice. However, although the chicken was moist it was rather tasteless apart from a small initial hit of saltiness. The smooth guacamole and excessively soft black beans were also unremarkable, while the hot sauce was only mildly tingly.

chicken burrito at 1910

It’s only really worth eating at 1910 if you’re desperately craving a burrito while shopping at Westfield and even then I’d thick twice.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: ?

Average price per burrito: ?

Adobo

Adobo feels like a chain, but there’s actually just one location on High Holborn. Adobo’s tacos were, on the whole, a limp effort. The wheat flour tortillas can be filled with either pork or beef, but both were bland and were only palatable due to a coating of mildly fruity sauce. The excessively soft pork tacos were especially moist with sauce, but this had a nasty habit of soaking the tortilla, causing it to fall apart.

pork taco at Adobo

beef taco at Adobo

The best of the taco fillings that I had was the chicken. The grilled poultry was a little too dry, but it did have a slightly earthy muskiness to it.

chicken taco at Adobo

The most interesting thing about Adobo’s pork burrito was the option to have a whole wheat burrito which added an extra layer of heartiness to the whole thing. The wrapping was rather sloppy though and the tortilla ended up bursting, spilling mildly spicy hot sauce and meat everywhere. The pork filing used here was dense and moist but otherwise unremarkable. At least there were roughly equal amounts of rice and meat. The addition of salty chorizo and the creamy, chunky guacamole livened things up considerably, but the fried pinto beans were a little too mushy for my liking.

pork burrito at Adobo

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Benito’s Hat

I’ve rated Benito’s Hat quite highly before, but the Fitzrovia branch of this small chain faces increased competition in this round up. Having said that, it can still cook up some good grub. The pork burrito was filled with frim, juicy meat that hadn’t been overcooked to the point of mushiness, while the spicy tabasco-based sauce and pickled jalapeños added some real kick. There was more meat than rice too, so this burrito didn’t leave me feeling too bloated. The fly in the ointment was the sloppy tortilla wrapping – filling leakage was a real problem.

pork burrito at Benito’s Hat

Some of the seasonal specials can be disappointing though. The current (at the time of writing) pork and cactus burrito was filled with more rice than either pork or cactus. What there was of it was pretty good – firm and moist pork joined by juicy, sweet slivers of cactus. There was minimal guacamole, allowing the zesty, tingly mildly spicy hot sauce to dominate. The wrapping this time around was better with only a little leakage.

pork and cactus burrito at Benito’s Hat

Disappointingly, the tacos used wheat flour tortillas but at least the filling of braised chicken was better. Moist, mildly smoky strands of chicken managed to retain their flavour despite being buried underneath an avalanche of smooth, creamy guacamole and refrigerated lettuce and tomato, no doubt helped by the punchy chilli sauce and fresh coriander.

chicken tacos at Benito’s Hat

The serving of horchata was a bit on the small side, but despite a heavy dose of cinnamon it still retained its sweet, mildly starchy milkiness.

horchata at Benito’s Hat

Some of the best things on the menu at Benito’s Hat are the desserts, such as the tres leches cake. The ridiculously moist and airy sponge was slathered in a thin, yet somehow very creamy and sweet mixture of condensed, whole and evaporated milk. Immensely satisfying.

tres leche cake at Benito’s Hat

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £3

Average price per burrito: £7

Burrito Bros

Located in the wilds for Farringdon not far from a branch of Workshop Coffee, this small cafe is split over two small floors. Annoyingly the tacos use hard shell corn tortillas, although there wasn’t much taste for them to hide. The dry and flavourless chicken desperately needed as much hot sauce as I could handle. The pre-applied hot sauce was very mild though with a subtly fruity sweetness to it. It was hard to make out too given the copious amounts of cheese and sour cream that I didn’t want.

chicken taco at Burrito Bros

The pork burrito did little to lift my spirits. Although tightly wrapped, the dry shreds of pork had only a very mild smokiness, the smooth guacamole was bland and the hot sauce was extremely mild. Plus there was more rice than meat.

pork burrito at Burrito Bros

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Burrito Cafe

You’d never find the King’s Cross branch of this small two-outlet chain unless you were deliberately looking for it. Given the quality of the pork burrito, there’s no need to look for it either. Although tender, the pork filling was so anonymous that it could have been almost any other meat. The mushy guacamole was tasteless and the hot sauce was mildly tingly at best. There was slightly more rice than meat, but at least the rice actually tasted of something – zesty lime and coriander to be precise. The tortilla was wrapped fairly well, with only a small amount of leakage.

pork burrito at Burrito Cafe

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Burro Burrito

Unlike all of the other lunch places reviewed here, the underground Burro Burrito doesn’t use the typical conveyor belt system where the burrito is assembled to order before your eyes. Instead, place your order, hand over your payment and find a table. The food is then brought to you.

Burro’s tacos didn’t fare well. The wheat flour tortillas were a let down and the dense, hearty beef chipotle filling had a subtly sweet, smoky, nutty flavour that faded far too quickly after the first bite. It didn’t help that the beef had been accompanied by sour cream, chilled vegetables and shavings of what I swear was Red Leicester cheese.

beef taco at Burro Burrito

Swapping the beef for pork and apple didn’t help. The dense threads of pig had a sweet, fruity tinge but this was quickly lost amongst all the chaff.

pork and apple tacos at Burro Burrito

I was surprised to find that there was more chorizo than chicken in my dual meat burrito. The chicken was rather dry, while the chorizo was mildly salty but not especially fatty. Guacamole was entirely absent, the bland black beans were mushy and an annoyingly large amount of Red Leicester cheese was present. The hastily wrapped tortilla meant there was inevitably some spillage. The oddest thing about this burrito was the excessive sugary sweetness that was very out of place.

chicken and chorizo burrito at Burro Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4-6

Average price per burrito: £6

Chilango

Chilango is one of The Euro Hedgie’s favourite places to grab a lunchtime burrito and it’s not hard to see why. The pork burrito at both the Chancery Lane and Islington branches uses fatty, tender pieces of pork belly. There’s no crisp crackling, which would be too much to expect, but this is still nonetheless one of most satisfying pig fillings in a burrito that I’ve come across. The black beans left me non-plussed, the hot sauce was more tart and vinegarish than spicy and the burrito as a whole is on the small side. Still, the ratio of rice and meat was roughly equal and the smooth guacamole was very creamy.

pork belly burrito at Chilango

The pork belly was even better in the tacos at the Islington branch. The crisp, fatty, lightly caramelised chunks of pig went down a treat when paired with the face numbingly hot spicy sauce – a dab of refreshing sour cream would’ve been a good idea. The beef tacos were very good too – moist chunks of cow with a surprisingly woody, grassy taste. The only sour note was the wheat flour tortillas.

pork belly and beef tacos at Chilango

Chilango is one of the few places I’ve visited to offer a prawn burrito and while it’s not bad, it unsurprisingly can’t quite match the fatty eloquence of of the pork belly version. Although the portion of firm and slightly smoky prawns was reasonably generous, it was still outweighed by the rice. A touch of sweetness came from the grilled, slightly squishy peppers and onions, the smooth creamy guacamole and the rosé-coloured cream. Overall though, it tasted a little on the bland side.

prawn burrito at Chilango

Horchata isn’t available, but a good substitute is a fizzy Mexican soft drink called Jarritos. The mandarin flavour is my favourite since it tastes like a fizzy version of Calpol (we all have our guilty pleasures).

Rating:  ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Chimi’s

Chimi’s may appear to be a scrappy young upstart, but it’s actually owned by the same company behind the Prezzo chain of Italian restaurants. No matter who owns this Tottenham Court Road diner, the pork burrito wasn’t very impressive. The soft mushy pork was dressed in a sweet, slightly smoky BBQ-style sauce that had probably been squeezed out of a bottle. There was some mildly hot, tingly spicy sauce, but little guacamole with most of the flavour coming from the sweetness of the sautéed bell peppers and onions. Although there was roughly equal servings of rice and meat, this was a rather small burrito that was sloppily, flimsily wrapped.

A pork burrito from Chimi’s.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Chipotle

Like Cantina Laredo, Chipotle is a US-based chain. Unlike Cantina Lardo, Chipotle has more than just one branch in London – mostly because it’s not as unremittingly awful as its more upmarket rival. That’s not to say that it’s perfect however – the pork burrito at the Wardour Street Soho branch used fatty, slightly fruity sweet chunks of pig but there was far more rice than pork. At least the rice itself was fluffy, large-grained and moderately zesty. The sloppy, leaky wrapping, bland guacamole and unremarkable pinto beans stewed with pork left me unimpressed though.

pork burrito at Chipotle

The spicy sauce used in the pork burrito was very tame, but it had clearly been reformulated when I returned to try out the tacos. It was far more fiery, packing quite a punch. The pork was oddly different though – far leaner with a zestier tinge to it. The chicken filling was moist and herby, but the beef was very dry and tough and only just edible. Sadly, all of the tacos used wheat flour tortillas and the staff will offer to stuff each taco with every filling at their disposable unless you stop them.

pork taco at Chipotle

chicken taco at Chipotle

beef taco at Chipotle

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £7

Average price per burrito: £7

El Burrito

El Burrito is a small take-away and diner spin-off of Mestizo, a restaurant which otherwise doesn’t serve burritos at all. El Burrito’s burritos are noticeably smaller than any of the others reviewed in this round-up, so you may need two. This is largely due to the significantly reduced rice content, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing as the kitchen have concentrated instead on some quality fillings.

The shredded chicken in the chicken burrito, for example, is coated in a sweet, musky mole sauce that’s full of flavour. It’s not quite as complex as the exceptional mole used in the chicken tacos at Mestizo, but it’s still very satisfying. The tart, fiery jalapeños, fresh, crisp vegetables, tightly-wrapped tortilla and tear-inducing hot sauce are all to be lauded too.

chicken mole burrito at El Burrito

The cochinita pork filling isn’t quite as successful as the chicken mole, but it’s still quite good with moist chunks of tangy and mildly sweet pork. The hot sauce wasn’t quite as potent as before, but it was still fiery.

cochinita pork burrito at El Burrito

A good way of combatting the hot sweats brought on by the fiery hot sauce is to down a cup of the horchata. Milky, starchy and refreshing, my only complaint is that the serving is a bit too small and stingy.

horchata at El Burrito

El Burrito has a selection of tacos available at dinner time, but they’re not as accomplished as the ones available at Mestizo. The fish tacos used crisp, battered chunks of anonymous white fish, although they are at least free of excess oil. The mixed vegetable tacos filled with celery, peppers, courgettes, mushrooms and carrots was competently done, but didn’t present any surprises and tasted exactly as you’d expect.

roast celery, pepper, courgette, mushroom & carrot taco at El Burrito

fish taco at El Burrito

The most successful taco I sampled was the pork al pastor version, but even here it wasn’t as boldly flavoured as I expected. The pork was rather anonymous, letting the sweet, slightly acidic chunks of pineapple taking centre stage.

pork al pastor taco at El Burrito

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £2

Average price per portion of tacos: £4.50

El Mexicana

Spanish-speaking linguistic pedants will probably point out that ‘El Mexicana’ is grammatically incorrect. The bigger problem is that the food at this small Bloomsbury diner is, at best, crushingly average. The chicken tinga burrito was filled with mildly fruity chunks of tomato-ish tasting chicken, bland guacamole and a moderately nutty smearing of refried pinto beans. The slapdash wrapping inevitably resulted in the moderately hot sauce dribbling out all over the place.

chicken burrito at El Mexicana

The tacos sadly used wheat flour tortillas. Filled with shredded beef, the dense strands of cow had an initial hit of smokiness but this faded quickly. The overflowing filling was otherwise identical to that of the burrito, but the hot sauce was much milder this time around.

beef tacos at El Mexicana

In an unexpected surprise, the churros weren’t a complete disaster. Although not especially buttery or fluffy on the inside, the outside was evenly crisp, oil-free and topped with a mixture of cinnamon and brown sugar. It’s best to opt for the dulce de leche sauce instead of the chocolate though – neither are great but the dulce de leche is nominally less bland than the chocolate.

churros with chocolate sauce at El Mexicana

churros with dulce de leche sauce at El Mexicana

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Flying Burrito

This three-branch, City-based mini-chain is absolutely crammed at lunchtime, but I fail to see why. The pork tacos do use reasonably fluffy and nutty corn tortillas, but the meat itself, while tender, is bland. The black beans were salty, but the guacamole was watery and the tomato salad on the side was clearly an afterthought and the hot sauce was only moderately spicy at best.

pork tacos at flying burrito

Unusually, Flying Burrito not only has a veggie burrito option but it’s also allegedly dressed in a mole sauce. There’s certainly plenty of sweet potato, corn and black beans which outweighs the rice, but there’s bugger all mole and the guacamole was as watery as ever.  The predominant taste was one of sweetness. Annoyingly, although the tortilla appears to be tightly wrapped, the bottom quickly becomes soggy, eventually breaking apart and spilling veg everywhere.

mole vegetable burrito at Flying Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

La Catrina

La Catrina is located inside the same space at the Shoreditch Boxpark pop-up mall previously occupied by Mexway (see immediately below). The pork burrito was filled with more rice than meat, but there was still enough pork. It was a little dry, but it was still very palatable thanks to its firm bite and earthy, slightly sweet flavour. There wasn’t much to be said about the black beans and there was very little guacamole. The hot sauce did produce a tingly, numbing sensation though while the tightly wrapped tortilla meant there was only minimal spillage.

pork burrito at La Catrina

La Catrina does use corn flour tortillas, but the roughly seven to eight inch versions used in my chicken tacos were far too big and thin. They quickly became soaked through from all the fillings and collapsed, producing one hell of a mess. There was far too much lettuce and cooked tomatoes and the guacamole and black beans failed to impress. The dense and tender stewed chunks of tangy, earthy beef was a far tastier taco filling than the flavourless mush that was passed off as chicken.

chicken and beef tacos at La Catrina

Rating:  ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6-7

Average price per burrito: £6-7

Mexway

Formerly located in the Shoreditch Boxpark, Mexway is now located in the chav ghetto known as Croydon. Although Mexway’s chicken tacos were just as overloaded as La Catrina’s, the muted corn tortillas didn’t become soggy and break apart. The firm and sweet tomatoes nicely balanced out the tingly heat of the spicy sauce, but the chicken itself was just soft mush.

chicken tacos at Mexway

The pork used in the pork burrito wasn’t as soft, but it was just as bland. The rice had a surprising buttery taste to it and the punchy spicy sauce and vegetables from the tacos made a repeat appearance here. The guacamole was both overly smooth and tasteless, but the tortilla was very tightly wrapped with no spillage.

pork burrito at Mexway

The horchata wasn’t bad, but it was a little too watery and too heavily flavoured with cinnamon for my liking.

horchata at Mexway

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Picante Grill

Located on a random side street in between Westminster and Belgravia, Picante Grill can be tricky to find. It was hard to tell if the tortillas used in the tacos were of the wheat or corn flour variety. Although thick with a slightly uneven texture like a corn tortilla, it tasted much more like a bland wheat flour tortilla. In any case the shredded beef filling was too dry, but at least it was hearty with slight woody, grassy hints to it. The dressing of jalapenos, coriander and onion didn’t leave much of an impression though. The sticky tomato rice on the side was an unnecessary afterthought, but the black turtle beans were tender with a gentle saltiness.

beef tacos at Picante Grill

Picante’s pork burrito was more impressive. The hearty meat was subtly woody and smoky and while the hot sauce wasn’t spicy, it did add an earthy muskiness to the meat. There was far more pork than rice, but the dull pinto beans might as well as not have been there.

pork burrito at Picante Grill

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Poncho No 8

There are three branches of Poncho No 8 with the St Paul’s outpost located in a sunless nook not far from the cathedral. Despite its inauspicious location, the place was packed during my weekday lunchtime visit. The pork tacos consisted of wheat flour tortillas filled with vaguely tomato-flavoured strands of moist pork. The smooth guacamole and timid hot sauce were tasteless, with a lot of the flavour and heat coming the jalapeños. There was far too much lettuce and black beans, most of which ended up toppling out of the over burdened tortillas.

pork tacos at Poncho No 8

A small amount of sauce managed to leak out from my otherwise well-wrapped chicken burrito. Although bland, the chunks of chicken were moist and firm, outnumbering the sweet, tomato flavoured rice. The coriander, vegetables and smooth, tasteless guacamole added little with most of the flavour coming from the moderately spicy hot sauce.

chicken burrito at Poncho No 8

Poncho No 8′s horchata was a disappointingly watery drink that tasted mostly of cinnamon.

horchata at Poncho No 8

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6.30

Average price per burrito: £6.30

Tortilla

The normally trustworthy readers of Zagat must have had a collective and momentary brain spasm as they’ve rated the average Tortilla as the best Mexican restaurant in London. To be fair, I sampled the fare at the Oxford Circus branch rather than the Southwark location favoured by Zagat readers but then, as a chain, there shouldn’t be that much difference between branches.

The chicken tacos were served up in very nutty corn flour tortillas, but the meat itself was very dry and bland. It was saved only by the hot sauce which, while not very spicy, was very garlicky, woody and smoky.

chicken tacos at Tortilla

The same hot sauce made an appearance in the pork burrito. It was much needed as the strands of pork, while very hearty, were also quite dry. Although smooth, the guacamole was very creamy while the black beans were firm and salty. Some sloppy tortilla wrapping did mean the hot sauce dribbled all over the place though.

Naming a Mexican eatery ‘Tortilla’ is like naming a sandwich shop ‘Baps’.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4.30

Average price per burrito: £6

Market stalls and food trucks

Ambriento

Ambriento is a little different from the vast majority of the other eateries here. Unlike a Tex-Mex restaurant, this market stall doesn’t pretend to serve up traditional Mexican food, instead serving up tacos with fillings inspired by other cuisines. All of the tacos I tried still used fluffy, nutty corn flour tortillas but each one was filled to overflowing so having plenty of napkins to hand is a must.

The first taco came filled with hearty, meaty chunks of southern fried chicken. Free of excess oil, each chunk was coated in a thick yet crispy batter but paired with some rather bland mayonnaise and generic vegetable filler.

southern fried chicken taco from Ambriento

The kimchi pork taco was even better – the tender yet meaty strands of pig went down a treat with all the tart and refreshing pickled vegetables. These were much more flavoursome then the rather tame kimchi, making this taco seem more like a Vietnamese banh mi-inspired morsel than a Korean one.

kimchi pork taco from Ambriento

The least successful taco was the vegetarian, allegedly all-aubergine option. Although the moist eggplant chunks were buttery and not overcooked so that they had just the right amount of firmness, there wasn’t nearly enough of it with this taco mostly dominated with sweetcorn filler. Surprisingly, this taco proved to be the spiciest of the lot with a moderately fiery chilli sauce that seemed at odds with what little aubergine there was.

aubergine taco from Ambriento

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Buen Provecho

Even for a market stall, Buen Provecho can sometimes be a little hard to find with only infrequent appearances outside of its usual south of the river, Waterloo-ish pitch. It’s well worth it though as Buen Provecho cooks up some of the best tacos I’ve tried in London.

All of the tacos use proper corn flour tortillas and lots of crisp, tart pickled onions as a garnish. The chicken variant used tender chunks of meat that had a great depth of flavour – sweet, tangy and nutty with a dry chilli heat thrown in for good measure. The pork taco was just as good with the moist yet firm strands of pig blessed with a subtle smokiness that went well with the sweet hints of orange.

chicken taco from Buen Provencho

pork taco from Buen Provencho

The rather bitty slivers of meat in the beef taco was disappointing, but what it lacked in texture it more than made up for in taste. The marinade had frankly ridiculous levels of flavour – distinctly but not overpoweringly sweet, smoky and herby all at the same time.

beef taco from Buen Provencho

Rating: ★★★★★

Average price per portion of tacos: £5-6

Daddy Donkey

Daddy Donkey may be ‘just’ a market stall, but it’s a slick, well-oiled operation based out of a massive well-equipped trailer on Leather Lane, just off High Holborn, with another location promised soon. The pork burrito wasn’t bad, but it’s hardly deserving of the uncritical praise it’s received elsewhere. The tightly wrapped tortilla gives way to reveal firm, tomato-flavoured chunks of pork joined by salty, tender black beans and creamy guacamole. The guacamole is a touch too smooth and overly processed and the ‘extra hot’ spicy sauce is merely ticklish, but overall it’s a decent enough burrito.

pork burrito from Daddy Donkey

The hot sauce had clearly received some much needed attention when I came back for the tacos though. It was much more potent, complimenting the moist, fruity strands of shredded beef filling nicely. The chicken was rather dry, but it was fruity, musky and a little earthy which was very pleasing. The steak was fruity and peppery which made the slightly chewy chunks more palatable. The wheat flour tortillas and the excessive amount of lettuce and limp jalapeños were disappointing though.

tacos from Daddy Donkey

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Freebird

Although Freebird has a small take-away outlet near Liverpool Street station, it’s better known for its four market stalls located mostly in the West End so I’ve included it here with all the other market stalls and food trucks.

The pork burrito served up by the Berwick Street market stall was tightly wrapped with the meat dressed in a fruity, slightly acidic but ultimately rather mild hot sauce. The creamy guacamole and the firm, earthy, nutty refried pinto beans were pleasing. There was an even balance between the rice and the meat but the pork itself was disappointingly dry, bland and bitty.

pork burrito from Freebird

At the time of writing only the Liverpool Street take-away outlet currently serves tacos, with the market stalls due to start serving them soon. They’re nothing to get excited about though. Although the shredded beef taco was sensibly made with the staff not attempting to overstuff the wheat flour tortilla, the dense chunk of beef was flavoured with a generic supermarket-quality sweet and smoky ‘barbecue’ sauce. The smudge of guacamole and scattering of lettuce and tomatoes added little.

shredded beef taco at Freebird

The Liverpool Street location also serves up some burrito fillings not available at the market stands. The beef brisket option is a relatively good approximation of proper American-style barbecue beef brisket, but while peppery, smoky and reasonably hearty it didn’t have the same tender fatty moistness as the very best barbecue beef brisket. The tortilla was clumsily wrapped though and the bland guacamole didn’t impress. There was at least more meat than rice and the hot sauce had a tingly numbing effect.

beef brisket burrito from Freebird

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £6

Kimchinary

A fresh and sprightly newcomer to London’s street food markets, Kimchinary is run by a warm and chatty Swede who serves up Korean-inspired tacos. Ambriento already does something similar, but Kimchinary is arguably more successful. All of the tacos I tried used soft, fluffy corn flour tortillas whose natural nuttiness was enhanced by a choice scattering of sesame seeds.

The meat in the ox cheek tacos took on the form of dense, salty cubes that weren’t quite as moreish as the moister, more delicate ox cheek strands used by Santo, but they’re still very satisfying and complimented well by the tart, mildly spicy kimchi.

ox cheek Korean tacos from Kimchinary

The pork belly tacos used cubes of pork layered with seams of moist fat which resembled pancetta in a way. The layers of pork fat made these tacos more hearty, but also arguably less interesting than its ox cheek counterpart.

pork belly Korean tacos from Kimchinary

One problem suffered by both tacos was the ton of pickled vegetables and sweet mayonnaise. Although a lip smacking compliment to either the ox cheek or the pork belly fillings, the moistness of it all made the tortillas soggy and caused them to break apart which made quite a mess.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Luardos

Luardos is instantly recognisable at whatever street market it turns up to thanks to its distinctive pink and blue vans. Although the medium rare steak used in Luardo’s tacos weren’t especially flavoursome, the thin slices of beef were very tender. The creamy, chunky guacamole contrasted nicely with the fiery chilli sauce, while the thick, nutty corn tortillas held everything together perfectly.

steak tacos from Luardos

Although I wasn’t fond of the rather bland, uninteresting pork used in Luardo’s pork burrito, it was very tightly wrapped with only minimal leakage, the same good quality guacamole and spicy sauce was used and the ratio of rice and meat was evenly balanced.

pork burrito from Luardos

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5.50

Average price per burrito: £6-7

Santana Grill

Santana Grill allegedly serves both tacos and burritos, but the former weren’t available during either of my visits to this market stall. The meat used in the pork burrito was firm and moist, but most of the flavour came from the sweet, refreshing tomato, lettuce and red cabbage accompaniment and the hot sauce. Although only moderately zingy, it was also earthy and musky. The entire package was tightly wrapped with very little leakage.

pork burrito from Santana Grill

The tortilla wasn’t as skilfully wrapped when I tried the chicken and chorizo burrito, with some of the hot sauce dribbling out. Like the pork burrito there was an even balance of meat and rice, but the meat filling was mostly dominated by firm cubes of chicken with the smooth but rather bland chorizo taking a back seat. The chicken had a sweet smoky flavour though with the salty black beans complimenting the meat well, while the zingy spicy sauce was noticeably hotter than before albeit at the cost of the earthy muskiness from before. There was little guacamole, with the heat of the spicy sauce counterbalanced instead by the crisp, refreshing vegetables.

chicken and chorizo burrito from Santana Grill

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Taco Stand

The Taco Stand may have one of the most unoriginal names here, but it also serves up some of the most interesting tacos I’ve tried although they’re not all totally successful. The menu changes fairly frequently, but on my first visit the vegetarian option was a fairly unusual combination of black beans and feta cheese. It wasn’t all that it could’ve been though. Although the salty, hearty yet tender beans hit the spot, the feta was too bitty and sparse to leave much of an impression.

black bean and feta taco from The Taco Stand

The beef taco was filled with meat that was a touch too dry, but it was also dense and woody. It was complimented well by the sweetness of the tomato-flavoured sour cream – a fruity flourish that makes sour cream much more palatable for me. I wasn’t impressed by the mushiness of the meat in the pork taco, but it was saved by its zingy flavour and the mild zestiness of the lime and coriander flavoured sour cream. All of the tacos used nutty corn flour tortillas which were clearly and lovingly hand made judging from their uneven edges.

pork taco from the Taco Stand

beef taco from The Taco Stand

The Taco Stand has also started selling burritos, but the beef and chorizo variety I tried felt rough compared to the tacos. The loosely wrapped tortilla meant that there was some spillage of the filling. There was more rice than meat, but the rice was dressed in a zesty, milky sour cream that was pleasing. The saltiness of the smooth chorizo was complimented well by the fruity sweetness of the beef. The hot sauce was tame and there wasn’t an option for guacamole, but the tart pickled onions was all that was needed to enhance the flavours of both the chorizo and the beef.

beef and chorizo burrito from The Taco Stand

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £4

Average price per burrito: £5

Take-aways

Amigos

If you’re looking for somewhere sleek and sexy to get your fix of Mexican food, then Amigos definitely isn’t it. From the gruff service to the spartan shopfront, Amigos oozes the kind of glamour previously reserved for charity shops. Still, I can’t expect too much from a takeaway on Holloway Road in the unfashionable part of Islington.

Surprisingly, the pork taco filling came wrapped in corn flour tortillas although the initial nutty hit faded quickly on subsequent mouthfuls. Despite the addition of rice, the tortilla held everything together with very little spillage. Although dense, the pork itself was rather dry with most the moisture and taste coming instead from the smooth but bland guacamole and the earthy, tingly hot sauce.

pork tacos from Amigos

The overly dry meat was clearly a trend with the large chunks of poultry in the securely wrapped chicken burrito sharing the same problem. There was at least more chicken than rice and the larger squirt of earthy hot sauce proved to be eye-wateringly spicy. The bland guacamole and token amount of vegetables did little to cool things down – a dollop of sour cream would probably be a good idea.

chicken burrito from Amigos

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5-6

Average price per burrito: £6.50

Bar Burrito

Despite its name Bar Burrito isn’t a bar, but a lunch place and take away. Most of this chain’s branches are located up North with the only London branch located in Paddington station.

The pork burrito is only worth getting if you need sustenance for a long train journey or can’t face the even worse culinary options at Heathrow. The pork had a slight woody flavour, but it was very dry and bitty and was bland enough that it could’ve been almost any other meat. There was more rice than meat, the guacamole was tasteless and there weren’t enough beans to leave much of an impression. The ‘extra hot’ spicy sauce only had a mild tingly numbing effect and some of the sauce managed to dribble out due to the slightly slapdash wrapping. Unimpressive.

pork burrito at Bar Burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5-6

Mexican Express

Situated near some fashionably gritty drinking spots in Hoxton and Shoreditch, Mexican Express has some suitably late opening hours. Sadly, the quality of the food will only appeal to the drunken, gastronomically indiscriminate wolf packs that I try to avoid on a Saturday night.

There wasn’t a lot of guacamole in the chicken tacos and the hot sauce was nothing of the sort, but the chunks of rather dry chicken did have a certain butteriness to them. The wheat flour tortillas tasted of little, but did an adequate job of holding everything together.

chicken taco from Mexican Express

The tender stands of pig used in the pork burrito were reasonably moist but also quite bland with most of the taste coming from the sweet, tomato-flavoured rice. As with the chicken tacos, there was sod all guacamole and the hot sauce might as well have been ketchup for all the heat it contained.

pork burrito at Mexican Express

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £2.50

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Mi Casa

If there’s anywhere even less glamorous than either Amigos or Mexican Express to grab a bite, then it has to be Mi Casa. Located near the Gatwick Express gates at Victoria Station, this takeaway outlet is operated by SSP UK which sounds like it should be making drones and artillery emplacements than operating ’travel concessions’ as the company describes Mi Casa.

Sadly, you’d have to be a very hurried and harried commuter to find any joy in Mi Casa’s rather small burritos. If I squinted, I could just about discern the difference between the flavourless mush of pork and the greasy smear of refried beans as the two were almost indistinguishable in my mouth. The limp lettuce and dreary guacamole were even less impressive. At least the spicy sauce actually packed a zesty, chilli punch and the tortilla was snugly wrapped with only a few drops of sauce dribbling out.

pork burrito from Mi Casa

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £7

Tacolisa

Despite its name, Tacolisa’s expertly wrapped and rice-less staples bore more of a resemblance to the rice-lite burritos found at El Burrito then to any of the other tacos reviewed here. Snug as a bug inside the wheat flour tortilla was some tender but bland braised beef livened up by some mildly tingly hot sauce. The unremarkable vegetables added little and the whole thing was a little on the small side, so if you are tempted by these Croydon consumables then it’d be a good idea to order two.

braised beef taco from Tacolisa

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion: £5-6.25

Wrap It Up

I didn’t have high hopes for this franchised chain and its ‘world gourmet wraps’. The grande chicken burrito served up by the branch near Charing Cross and the Embankment neatly fulfilled my low expectations. The surprisingly small burrito was filled mostly with rice and some rather limp, anonymous vegetables and beans. The chunks of chicken were reasonably firm with a peppery, buttery taste and a mild, tingly heat. There was no option for sour cream or guacamole, but at least the whole package was securely wrapped with almost no leakage.

chicken burrito from Wrap It Up

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5-6

Miscellaneous

L’Autre

If there’s anything more bizarre than a Polish-Mexican restaurant like L’Autre, then it’s the fact that there’s a second such mash-up eatery in Hammersmith (Robin Hood, reviewed below). The strangeness at L’Autre continues to the cosily small interior which, with its timbered walls and red velour seating, looks like a hastily converted pub.

There are only a few half-hearted attempts at fusion cuisine on the menu, with most of the dishes coming instead from the Tex-Mex tradition and what I think is fairly traditional Polish food. An example of the latter would be my starter of fried kielbasa pork and beef sausages. The slices of smooth, moderately fatty and slightly peppery sausages weren’t bad, but not especially remarkable either. The sweet fried onions and mild mustard made this dish resemble a bread-free hot dog on a plate.

beef and pork Polish kielbasa sausage at L’Autre

The chicken burrito was the least offensive Tex-Mex style burrito that I’ve tried. Although I wasn’t fond of the tricolour sauces daubed on top of the burrito, the guacamole was at least reasonably coarse and zesty while the tomato sauce actually tasted of peeled, stewed tomatoes. The reasonably firm chunks of buttery chicken inside the snugly wrapped tortilla weren’t too shoddy either, while the fresh tomato and cucumber side salad was dressed in a sweet vinaigrette. If you’re going to insist on having a Tex-Mex style burrito then it might as well be this one.

Why does a Polish-Mexican restaurant have a French name? Because it’s in Mayfair?

I made the mistake of ordering the Polish-style cheesecake which turned out to be heartstoppingly huge. This dense, hearty wedge-shaped slab was large enough to keep a garage door open. It was mildly creamy, very stodgy and made me feel very bloated.

It’s not a cheesecake, it’s a doorstop.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £13

Barrio Central

I really, really wanted to hate Barrio Central. This bar jut off Oxford Street managed to bring out the curmudgeonly old codger hiding inside of me. The opening times are non-sensical and erratic, the bartender ignored me, the place was cramped, the hard seating numbed my butt cheeks and I couldn’t stand the groups of giggling girls who could shriek at an ear-bleeding volume louder than a baby alarmed at being eaten by a dingo.

The food, annoyingly, was surprisingly good. Although I would’ve preferred my steak taco filling cooked medium rare, the well-done slices of beef were tender with a slight fruity acidity to them and served in nutty corn tortillas. The spicy sauce was limp though and the green salad on the side seemed like an afterthought.

steak tacos from Barrio Central

Although Barrio’s pork burrito was similarly lacking in spicy heat, the hearty portion of tender, peppery and moist pork was larger than the serving of rice. There was some leakage from the hastily wrapped tortilla though and the green salad side was basic, but it was at least fresh, served at room temperature and drizzled with lemon juice.

pork burrito from Barrio Central

If you’re a non-drinker, don’t be tempted to order the pineapple agua fresca. Even as overpriced, watered down fruit juices go, this one is ridiculously charged at a cheeky fiver.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £8

Bombay Burrito

Even if I was avoiding some of London’s more gimmicky burritos and tacos in this round-up (and I’m not), I couldn’t ignore Bombay Burrito which serves up Indian-inspired fillings inside its tortillas. Choose your meat and how hot you want your curry sauce. I opted for lightly smoky chunks of chicken tikka and the hottest curry sauce available which turned out to be only mildly spicy. Although the chicken was paired with sweet, charred onions and what I’m pretty sure was bay leaf and kaffir lime, the burrito as a whole was surprisingly low key with the flavours not quite as bold as I was expecting from an Indian burrito. It’s still pleasing enough, although I do wonder whether using more traditional Indian breads, such as a roti or naan, would’ve produced better results.

chicken spicy hot burrito at Bombay Burrito

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Cafe Bebek

Cafe Bebek serves up an extensive menu of lunchtime dishes besides burritos, including jacket potatoes, sandwiches and even some rather limp, overcooked lahmacun (or Turkish pizzas). However, judging from the ‘for lease’ sign above the door, Cafe Bebek probably doesn’t have much time left in its current form and it’s not hard to see why after taking a bite of the chicken burrito.

The sloppy wrapping leads to large chunks of bland, rubbery chicken spilling out. There’s just slightly more chicken than rice, which was surprisingly fluffy. A mildly spicy sauce is present, but most of the heat comes from the jalapeños. The garlicky mayonnaise and carrots dominated this burrito though, lending it an almost Middle Eastern-ish flair but that flair wasn’t enough to rescue a startlingly bad example of lunchtime cafe overreach.

chicken burrito from Cafe Bebek

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £5

Comboco

Comboco is a lunchtime salad bar that has, for some inexplicable reason, branched out into selling burritos. This salad bar heritage is evident from the pork burrito which the staff will fill with almost every conceivable type of salad unless you tell them to stop. The moist, honey-sweet pork, bell peppers, roasted onions, sweet corn and cherry tomatoes all made this burrito taste very sweet, but the sweet chilli sauce also packed a surprising amount of spicy heat. Although there was very little guacamole and no beans that I could taste, the staff did find room to chuck in a few potato chunks. Despite the cornucopia of fillings, the snugly wrapped tortilla held together surprisingly well. It’s pretty good as a salad wrap, but it’s a non-starter as a burrito.

pork burrito from Cocombo

While the pork burrito is an acceptable oddity, the mango-flavoured bubble tea is an inexcusable abomination. The small serving of luminescent liquid tasted like stale Fanta. The bubble pearls weren’t made out of tapioca, but out of some thin, brittle, sugary material instead. Should’ve had a Diet Coke instead.

bubble tea from Cocombo

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

The Diner

Breakfast burritos are still something of a rarity in London. The Diner branch in Soho does one, but I wasn’t expecting much following their dismal flat white and tepid burger. An uninspiring slag heap of tomato and cheese-flecked scramble eggs was joined by some salty and juicy slices of chorizo. The chorizo bits were few and far between though so there was little variation in taste or texture when chowing down through this breakfast burrito. The tortilla was wrapped reasonably tightly, but some chorizo juice did manage to seep out.

Some soft, mildly peppery black beans were served on the side as was some guacamole. The latter was smooth and heavily processed though with bitty pieces of avocado floating about in an overdose of lemon juice.

breakfast burrito from The Diner

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £7.20

Mildred’s

Soho would be a bit of a wasteland for vegetarians if it wasn’t for a handful of veggie restaurants such as the long established Mildred’s. I’m not sure who Mildred is, but her veggie burrito is an uninspiring dish. Served wet, the tomato sauce and cheese wasn’t too overpowering and added an extra layer of sweetness and creaminess, but I could still have done without it. The somewhat stodgy and overbaked tortilla contained some rice that was outnumbered by a large serving of lightly salty black beans that had just the right amount of firmness. There wasn’t any spicy sauce while the guacamole made up for its overprocessed smoothness with a large dash of zestiness.

Mildred’s vegetable burrito

It wasn’t too bad overall, but Mildred’s veggie burrito felt like a missed opportunity – an extra variety or two of beans or perhaps some squash or potatoes would have livened up an otherwise comparatively bland burrito that only confirms the worst fears of dim-witted carnivores.

Mildred’s vegetarian burrito

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £10.25

Robin Hood (aka Robin Hood Zorro)

The only thing weirder than Robin Hood’s Polish-Mexican menu is the restaurant’s bright and bizarre murals depicting the parallel lives of Robin Hood and Zorro culminating in a centerpiece where the two have a dual with model weapons mounted onto the wall.

Nothing says Pol-Mex food like Robin Hood vs Zorro. Wait, what?

Unlike the similar L’Autre in Mayfair, Robin Hood doesn’t make attempt at fusing together Polish and Mexican food preferring to keep them apart. The pierogi or Polish dumplings were oddly dressed in oil and garnished with bacon and fried onions. Of the three varieties available, the sauerkraut and mushroom one was my favourite due to the tart sauerkraut. The bland and stodgy cottage cheese filling didn’t sit well with me, while the ominous ‘meat’ version had the texture of tinned tuna and the taste of cheap sausages.

pierogi polish dumplings at Robin Hood

Robin Hood’s pork burrito was an odd and ultimately rather lame dish. The baked tortilla had a crispy underside, but the top was soggy due to the sweet tomato sauce, sour cream and smooth, slightly salty guacamole. Inside were some cubes of pork in a sauce that bore of a resemblance to cheap gravy than anything Mexican – naturally it had no spicy heat whatsoever. The side salad dressed in olive oil wasn’t too bad, but I could have done without the bland, stodgy rice flecked with overcooked vegetables.

They ate these in Sherwood Forest when times got tough.

pork burrito at Robin Hood

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £9

Tacuba

Even though it’s a glorified bar, Tacuba doesn’t accept credit cards. I wasn’t fond of the garish red lighting or the wobbly service which ranged from attentive to wilfully oblivious. There are just 27 covers which tend to be filled on weekends quite quickly. Oddly, burritos are only available for takeaway or delivery, but my lack of a nearby safe house meant I had to settle for the dine-in only taco menu.

All of the tacos used corn flour tortillas, but their nuttiness was rather muted. The tingly, fiery hot sauce made up for this to a certain degree though. The king prawns were rather limp and livened up only by its coriander dressing and the hot sauce.

prawn tacos from Tacuba

After that unpromising start, things picked up. The dense chunks of pork loin in the pork tacos had a sharp, fruity acidity that was very pleasing. Even better were the cactus tacos – the sweet, squidgy slices of cactus weren’t drowned out by the ill-advised accompaniment of heavily refrigerated tomatoes.

pork taco from Tacuba

cactus tacos from Tacuba

Although the portion of churros was a bit miserly, it did taste surprisingly good. Crispy on the inside and soft, fluffy and free of excess oil on the inside, although the dulce de leche sauce was too milky and the mediocre vanilla ice cream was a tacked-on afterthought.

churros at Tacuba

Rating: ★★★★☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £5

Whole Foods (Piccadilly Circus)

Whole Foods is a US supermarket chain with a reputation for selling overpriced organic groceries to arm chair liberals and moneyed foreign students. This is of course unfair – they sell plenty of food to fuzzy hippies too. The Piccadilly branch has a large chunk of its ground floor dedicated to various take-out counters, but the pork burrito was unexceptional.

Although the pork was reasonably firm and mildly peppery, it was a bit too dry and rather bland overall. The tingly heat of the spicy sauce and the saltiness of the firm black beans was counterbalanced nicely by the fresh, sweet tomatoes and coriander. Although a bit too smooth, the guacamole was sweet, zesty and creamy. The rice looked more like quinoa and outnumbered the meat. There was some leakage of hot sauce due to the slapdash wrapping, but it wasn’t too bad.

pork burrito from Whole Foods

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Average price per burrito: £6

Tex-Mex restaurants

Cafe Mexicali

If you wanted to spite yourself and your stomach, then Cafe Mexicali is the place for you. Smothered wet by default, the tortilla breaks apart to reveal some moist but bland chicken served with equally uninteresting bell pepper and onion slices. Served on the side was a portion of mushy but reasonably nutty pinto beans and some smooth, tasteless guacamole. The only way to liven up this dull excuse for a burrito was to slather multiple servings of the ‘hot’ sauce over the burrito until a mild, cumulative spiciness collected on my tongue.

chicken burrito at Cafe Mexicali

The burrito was a touch on the small side, but don’t be tempted to order the onion rings to fill that hole. Although free from excess oil, the reconstitute mash of onion underneath the thin, limp batter wasn’t worth the calories.

onion rings from Cafe Mexicali

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Chico Bandito

The service at Chico Bandito can be a two-sided thing. My actual waitress was friendly and efficient. The maître d’, on the other hand, pointedly tried to ignore my existence before wearily deciding that he would seat me.

chicken burrito at Chico Bandito

As expected the wet chicken burrito tasted mostly of the excessively sweet cheese and tomato sauce layered on top of the tough tortilla. The mushy meat and salty guacamole were unimpressive, while the odd salad consisted mostly of chickpeas, sweet corn and onions. It’s a sad burrito when its accompanying side salad was more interesting.

Chico Bandito’s chicken burrito

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Chiquito

The Leicester Square branch of Chiquito, previously known as Chi Chi’s, has been there for as long as I can remember. It’s had a few facelifts in its time, outlasting other Leicester Square stalwarts such as the grotty old Man Fu Kung Chinese restaurant (now a grotty Yate’s) and the ugly old Swiss Centre (now an even uglier W Hotel). I have no doubt that in the inevitable post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland, mutant cockroaches will get their fix of shoddy Tex-Mex food from the Leicester Square Chiquito.

Nothing I’ve ever eaten has been as shoddy and insulting as the deplorable chicken tacos, now unsurprisingly removed from the menu. Bitty pieces of stodgy, bland chicken, some tasteless rice and a few shreds of lettuce came in a wheat flour tortilla. The only dressing was an oddly sweet sour cream. The overall effect was of a cheap supermarket-quality chicken Caesar salad scraped out of a bin and into a tortilla.

chicken tacos at Chiquito

The churros wasn’t nearly as bad as the spiteful tacos. Although the dough sticks were a touch too oily and soft, I was surprised to discover that they had a creamy cinnamon filling which not only complimented the buttery taste of the pastry but also made up for the startlingly tasteless dusting of cinnamon. The bland chocolate sauce wasn’t worth bothering with.

Chiquito churros

I opted for the pork burrito on my second visit to Chiquito. As expected, the burrito was served wet, smothered with bland dollops of tomato sauce, sour cream and smooth, overly processed guacamole. Oddly, there was also a second tomato sauce that was far sweeter than the first. Inside the tightly wrapped tortilla were some unremarkable black beans and some tender, moist strands of pork. It was hard to appreciate the taste of the meat though as the stuff was slathered with an excessively sweet barbecue-style sauce.

pork burrito at Chiquito

In an fit of ultimately unsurprising lack of consistency, the churros this time around were quite different compared to the version served on my first visit. These churros were less oily and crisper, but also far blander and the creamy cinnamon fillings was gone leaving a hollow centre. The chocolate dipping sauce was even worse than before with a bizarrely lumpy consistency as if the stuff had been made from partially melted Cadbury’s chocolate buttons. Vile.

churros from Chiquito

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £11

Desperados (N1)

There are a few Tex-Mex restaurants with the Desperados name in London with the two located in Petts Wood and Islington sharing the same owners. The most remarkable thing about the Islington Desperados isn’t the grumpy, monosyllabic service but the murals depicting demonic copulation in the gentlemen’s toilets. A case of art imitating life? I couldn’t possibly say.

Desperados N1 chicken burrito

The chicken burrito was almost as hellish with the meat consisting of a squidgy mush interspersed with a few square pieces that weren’t any firmer. The warmed-over rice tasted like stale left overs scavenged from a student’s fridge, while the pinto beans served on the side almost resembled baked beans as they were served in a watery tomato and vegetable sauce. Although I tried to order the burrito dry, someone among the surly staff ignored my instructions. It turned out that the toppings of a sweet tomato salsa and a sharp onion-flavoured sauce were among the least offensive parts of this burrito.

Desperados chicken burrito

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per burrito: £9

El Paso (Hoxton)

El Paso is the only Tex-Mex restaurant here to not have a cheesy, cliched ‘Mexican’ decor of sombreros and cacti opting instead for a look entirely fitting for its Shoreditch location. The eclectic range of reclaimed furniture and anglepoise lamps actually look quite pleasing, but the handful of postmodern art pieces should be carted back to the A-Level college they were stolen from.

El Paso’s steak burrito mostly consisted of rice with a wispy coriander flavour and some vaguely nutty black beans with no guacamole or spicy sauce at all. There tender strips of sirloin were cooked well-done, so they didn’t taste of much. Despite the cheese and tomato sauce slathered over the thick, stodgy tortilla, this burrito was exceptionally bland. It’s as if the kitchen designed it for your mother-in-law from the provinces who’s still sceptical of yoghurt, never mind Mexican food.

El Paso Hoxton steak burrito

El Paso Hoxton’s steak burrito

Given the extreme lack of taste in the steak burrito, I was pleasantly surprised to discover sweet, salty chunks of fatty pork belly in the pork tacos. I could’ve done without the thick sour cream though which, along with the crisp hard shell tortillas and refrigerated slices of tomato, helped obscure the taste of the pork belly.

pork belly tacos at El Paso Hoxton

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £9

Average price per burrito: £9

Loco Mexicano

Of all the Tex-Mex restaurants here, Loco Mexicano near Victoria Station is easily the most undignified. The maître d’ wears a poncho and sombrero, while punters drunk enough to have lost their self-respect can don cowboy hats and sombreros.

All that ridiculous get-up isn’t as offensive as the prawn and crab tacos. The fill-them-yourself hard shell tortillas were accompanied by shrimp cocktail and some drab crab that was so heavily refrigerated, it might as well have been shredded fish sticks.

prawn and crab tacos at Loco Mexicano

Loco Mexicano does at least make one of the least repulsive Tex-Mex burritos here. Although the tortilla was stodgy and the rice was especially bland, the shredded chicken did have some firmness to it while the jalapeño slices added some heat. The overwhelmingly dominant flavour was the sweet tomato sauce smeared all over the top of the burrito.

chicken burrito at Loco Mexicano

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Average price per portion of tacos: £6

Average price per burrito: £11

The Winners

If you’re looking for a great taco in London, then the best places to go are (in alphabetical order) Buen Provecho, Mestizo and Santo. These three are unrivalled when it comes to dishing out simple, but delicious tacos. Other taco purveyors that weren’t quite as impressive but still deserve an honourable mention include La Bodega Negra, Boho Mexica, Tacuba and Mex-Korean mashup market stall Kimchinary.

It’s a different story when it comes to burritos. No eatery truly impressed me, although Santo came close. If the wilds of Westbourne Grove are too far out for a good burrito, then Benito’s Hat, Chilango, Luardos and Santana Grill are also respectably good lunchtime alternatives but none of these five really captured my imagination when it came to burritos.

Ending my gut-busting Mexican tour of London on such a sour note would be a downer. Instead, I’ll give thanks – the burrito and taco scene in London is far better than it ever has been, even when compared to as recently as a year ago, and this is all down to the hard working folks at the restaurants and market stalls. They deserve our thanks and our encouragement – Mexican food in London still has some way to go, but it’s already come so, so far.

As a general rule I’m not fond of eating out at chain restaurants in London. With so many interesting independents to choose from in the capital, picking a chain, especially one of the big national or multinational behemoths which can be found almost anywhere else in the country, seems like a wasted opportunity. It’s not a hard and fast rule though and every once in a while I come across a chain that I like – Rossopomodoro is one of them.

Rossopomodoro has just six branches in London with an outpost in Birmingham. I visited the Covent Garden branch, the site of the old Gili Gulu kaiten sushi buffet restaurant, with Wicket in tow. The place is moodily lit with a kitchen-like appearance to it, while the service was polite and efficient.

Wicket started off with the Parmigiana, which could be described as an Italian moussaka if you’re a culinary reductionist. A large heap of aubergines, which hadn’t been overcooked so they weren’t too mushy, was topped with a creamy, oozing layer of mozzarella that added a light smokiness to the dish.

Potted Parmigiana photo.

I went for a platter of cured meats as my starter. The chorizo-esque salami was forgettable, but the nutty and earthy bresaola and fatty, delicate parma ham hit the spot nicely.

All aboard.

Wicket was clearly intent on having an aubergine bender, as eggplant turned up again on his Verduretta pizza. The standout topping on this pizza was the seared courgettes though. Their charred creaminess was complimented well by the sweet and vibrant tomato sauce as well as the sweet creaminess of the mozzarella.

Aubergine bender continues.

My Carmelo pizza used the same base as the Verduretta – a lightly crisp crust giving way to a softer, floppier center. It’s not quite as fluffy, light and sweet as the bases used at Franco Manca, nor is it as firm as the ones used by Pizza Pilgrims, but it’s still a good, evenly cooked foundation for the various toppings. My pizza was a touch greasy, but the fennel-flecked flavours of the sausage melded well with the bitterness of the rapini broccoli. The absence of tomato sauce, making this a bianca pizza, allowed the light smokiness of the mozzarella to shine through.

Sausage-fest.

Both Wicket and I opted for the Pastiera for dessert. This cake almost resembled a cheesecake in its moistness, while bits of candied orange added a sweet, zesty flavour.

Pastiera for postres please.

Some of the most distinctive items on Rossopomodoro’s menu are the soft drinks. There’s our old favourite, the limonata. This Italian lemonade is zingy without being excessively sweet or overly sour. Even better is the Chinotto Lurisia, a soft drink made from the fruit of the myrtle-leaved orange tree. The bitter, sour and refreshing taste is somehow reminiscent of grapefruit, candy floss and liquorice all at the same time.

LIke lemonade, love limonata.

Where have you been all my life?

The Verdict

Rossopomodoro may not be the trendiest pizza place in London, but it’s still surprisingly good with some interesting desserts, starters and soft drinks to compliment the tastefully prepared pies.

Name: Rossopomodoro

Branch tried: 50 – 52 Monmouth Street, London WC2H 9EP

Phone: 0207 240 9095

Web: http://rossopomodoro.co.uk/restaurant/covent-garden/

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday noon-23.00. Friday-Saturday noon-23.30 and Sunday noon-22.00.

Reservations: probably a good idea

Total cost for one person including soft drinks when shared between two people: £30 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon is the closest thing to a fine dining chain with almost identically appointed branches in numerous cities around the globe including Las Vegas and London. The bar-style seating can be brutally uncomfortable though which makes La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon a much more appealing alternative. Situated on the first floor above the London branch of L’Atelier, La Cuisine has much more comfortable and more conventional seating in a compact dining room decorated to look like someone’s kitchen.

The decor and atmosphere may be warm, casual and inviting, but the food is unapologetically Modern European with attentive, knowledgeable service to match. The amuse bouche of foie gras topped with a parmesan foam isn’t as complex or as memorable as the much larger and somewhat similar starter sometimes available at Gauthier Soho, but it’s still a tasty way to start a meal. The rich and creamy flavours of the foie gras base and the parmesan foam complimented each other very well. The light wispiness of the foam may seem silly, but without it the dish wouldn’t have worked as well – the relatively heavy, viscous texture of parmesan in its usual form would have been too overwhelming.

The first foie gras of the meal.

The starter of caviar served on a bed of crab meat and lobster jelly may sound very rich, but it was a surprisingly insubstantial appetiser. The moist crab head meat was a refreshing counterpoint to the slightly oily, slightly salty caviar but the sliver of lobster claw meat in jelly was too small to leave much of an impression.

Le Caviar.

Foie gras popped up again in my main course, where it was stuffed inside quail and served alongside truffled mashed potatoes. The poultry was firm and hearty, but the very small amount of moderately rich foie gras was barely noticeable. The best thing about this dish was the rich, earthy and creamy mash.

Stuff this.

The dessert was all about chocolate. Served in an unusual gold gilded bowl, dark Madagascan chocolate was joined by a chocolate sorbet and ‘Oreo’ cookie crumb. The chocolate was smooth and very creamy but wasn’t as bittersweet as I expected. The bitterness came instead from the sorbet which wasn’t too icy and complimented the creaminess of the chocolate well while the ‘Oreo’ crumb had a subtle maltiness that was still nonetheless distinct and complimented the other elements nicely.

Chocolate x3.

Going back for seconds

I had very mixed feelings about my first meal at La Cuisine, so I had to go back for seconds. The amuse bouche was the same as before, but although I opted for a different starter, it still contained caviar. This time it was paired with a poached egg covered in a crisp rice shell and served with a salmon cream. The crispness of the rice shell contrasted nicely with the gooey runniness of the egg, while the salty caviar and the distinctly flavoured salmon cream added extra layers of richness. All of this made for a very satisfying start.

Eggs-ellent.

Black cod is often found with miso in Japanese restaurants, but here the tender and light fish was served in a mildly zesty, citrusy sauce that brought out the black cod’s natural fatty moreishness very well. Although this deceptively simple dish isn’t heavy, the handy hemispheres of crisp daikon radish were still a welcome palate cleanser.

It’s just a flesh wound.

I finished off my meal with the funky Le Bubble. A bauble-like sugar sphere topped with gold leaf broke apart to reveal a coffee-flavoured cream, salted caramel and lemon-marinated apple pieces in the middle. The crisp sugar shell can be discarded (it has a nasty habit of sticking to your upper gums if you try eating it), which is just as well as its sugary sweetness can overwhelm the muted flavours of this dessert which are too subtle for their own good. The textures are just right though – the wispiness of the coffee cream contrasts nicely with the crispness of the apple pieces. It’s just a shame the coffee cream and the fruit aren’t more boldly flavoured and the occasional bursts of salty caramel are few and far between.

Orbi et urbi.

Busting my bubble.

The Verdict

The quality of the food at La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon was erratic. At its best it can be very good indeed, but all too often it was merely average. I suspect this is due to the size of the menu which is large, sprawling and unfocussed by the standards of most other Modern European restaurants. All in all, this just isn’t good enough, not only because of the high prices, but also when accomplished competition such as Gauthier is a mere stone’s throw away. Must try harder.

Name: La Cuisine de Joël Robuchon

Address: 13-15 West Street, London WC2H 9NE

Phone: 020 7010 8600

Web: http://www.joelrobuchon.co.uk/first-floor

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday noon-15.00 and 17.30-23.00. Sunday noon-15.00 and 17.30-22.30

Reservations: essential

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and coffee: £75-100 approx.

Rating: ★★★☆☆

I’m not a vegetarian, but I do like to dabble with vegetarian food. However, my veggie-friendly sentiments aren’t shared by some of my friends and work chums who, at the mere suggestion of eating at a vegetarian restaurant, will inevitably whine and gripe in the most pathetic, close-minded, macho, proletarian way possible. The arguments that vegetarian food is insubstantial, tasteless, effete and ‘posh’ are clearly lazy and intellectual bankrupt. I’d like to say that the veggie pub food at Soho’s Coach and Horses is a shining example of what vegetarian food can be, but that sadly isn’t the case.

I started off with the cashew and thyme savoury soufflé which was fluffy and light, but with a dense crumb so it didn’t fall to pieces when sliced. Although the accompanying chutney was sweet and fruity, the actual soufflé itself was very bland.

Less like a soufflé, more like a vegetarian fish cake. And not a good one either.

The Prancing Hippy wasn’t impressed with his starter of tofu tempura fingers. The batter was thin, crunchy and thankfully free of excess oil, but its was more like fish batter than Japanese tempura. The tofu inside was light and airy, but also rather bland and the addition of seaweed wrapped around the tofu added little.

Don’t give me the finger!

For my main course I had the larger version of The Prancing Hippy’s starter. The cheesily named tofush and chips takes the age-old classic of fish and chips but replaces the fish with tofu. The batter was the same as in the starter, but the light, airy tofu was a little zestier and saltier which may have been due to the addition of better quality seaweed wrapped around the tofu. A heartier, denser tofu would have worked better though.

The chips weren’t really chips but dry, bitty fries instead. The accompanying tartar sauce tasted mostly of tart, vinegarish cornichons which wasn’t unpleasant, merely odd.

Don’t be a meathead.

Looks like fish, but it isn’t.

The Prancing Hippy opted for the pie of the day, which in this case turned out to be a mozzarella and vegetable pie with a potato crust. The crust was light and fluffy, resembling the one often found on shepherd’s pies, but this one was a little too dry. The filling consisted of root vegetables, such as carrots and turnips, along with mozzarella in a moreish sauce that was hard to identify. The vegetables weren’t overcooked so that they had just the right amount of firmness, but the pie as a whole wasn’t evenly cooked with some of the filling distinctly warmer than others. This was especially evident with the mozzarella – some pieces were viscous and gooey, while others were solid and a little chewy.

Pub pie photo.

Interestingly for an ostensibly vegetarian pub, The Coach and Horses doesn’t serve vegetarian beers or at least not exclusively vegetarian beers. I don’t drink alcohol, but The Prancing Hippy enjoyed his Fuller’s Chiswick Bitter. However, as a cask conditioned ale filtered using fish-derived products, he had to break his animal-friendly diet to do so. If you want to do better, then you’ll have to do your research beforehand – the oblivious staff don’t seem to have a clue.

The Verdict

A vegetarian food pub is a great idea, but the quality of the food at The Coach and Horses is flawed at best. Even if the cooking was more accomplished, the menu feels very retro and unimaginative with a lot of traditionally meat-based dishes but with the meat swapped out. Must try harder.

Name: The Coach and Horses

Address: 29 Greek Street, London W1D 5DH

Phone: 0207 437 5920

Web: http://coachandhorsessoho.co.uk

Opening Hours: Monday-Thursday 11.00-23.30, Friday-Saturday 11.00-midnight and Sunday noon-22.30.

Reservations: yeah, if you want

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two: £15-20 approx.

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

The last time I visited Las Vegas I dined almost exclusively at rather pricey haute cuisine restaurants. This time around I was on a tighter budget so, with Templeton Peck in tow most of the time, I decided to chow down on just burgers. This isn’t an attempt to replicate the systematic, almost exhaustive survey I conducted of London’s burger eateries – more of a meandering, gut-busting gastronomic travelogue around the Strip.

Table of Contents (click to jump straight to a review)
BLT Burger
Burger Bar Mandalay Bay
Gordon Ramsay BurGR
Heart Attack Grill
Rattlecan

BLT Burger

Almost everything in Las Vegas is a replica of something from somewhere else, whether you realise it or not. BLT Burger inside the Mirage hotel is a good example – what seems like a Vegas original is actually a spin-off of a New York restaurant. I immediately started having doubts about having dinner at BLT upon spotting lamb burgers and a staggeringly long list of other non-beef options on the menu, but I needn’t have worried.

Templeton Peck and I shared a starter of deep fried dill pickles. Each slice was coated in a slightly crisp and fluffy batter. It was a touch oily, but not excessively so and didn’t get in the way of enjoying the moist, dill-flecked vegetable underneath.

Pickle tickle.

The buffalo wings had an intensely aromatic whiff of tabasco sauce. However, while each wing was meaty, moist and coated in a slightly thick, even layer of crisp batter, the spiciness was modest at best. They also couldn’t compare to the intensely tender fattiness of the wings available at Patty and Bun back in London.

You can be my wingman anytime.

I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the smoothly ground beef patty used in the Classic burger. While not especially succulent, it was moist, tangy, lightly smoky and sweet. The vegetables were crisp and refreshing, while the bun held everything together and stayed out of the way. Simple, but largely effective.

‘Classic’ – the less dumpy relative of ‘normal’, ‘standard’ and ‘plain’.

Templeton Peck opted for a Cowboy burger which used the same patty as the Classic but with the addition of barbecue sauce, ‘tobacco’ flavoured onions, cheese and bacon. Sadly, the intriguing tobacco onions tasted nothing of the sort, but the lightly smoky barbecue sauce didn’t overwhelm the taste of what was essentially a sweet and fatty bacon cheeseburger.

The cowboy had some hot meat between those buns.

The waffle fries may look and sound odd, but their crisp fluffiness isn’t a million miles away from the usual deep-fried potato-based burger accompaniment. The main difference here was the odd flat, wide, griddle pan shape. A cute gimmick, nothing more.

Waffle fries? What next? Waffle falafel?

The onion rings were a disappointment. While whole slices of mildly sweet onion were used, it was hard to appreciate them as they were buried under a thick layer of doughy, bland batter.

Olympic rings?

Although a range of desserts are available, those with less capacious stomachs would likely be more than satisfied with one of the voluminous milkshakes. Although the thick chocolate shake is topped with a large mass of chocolate whipped cream and then drizzled with chocolate sauce, the actual chocolate flavour is unremarkable and muted at best.

Shake it off.

As is increasingly common at burger joints on both sides of the Atlantic, a selection of ‘hard’ alcoholic shakes are also available. Templeton Peck opted for the Dark and Frozen, where some dark rum was topped with layers of ginger beer and vanilla ice cream. It apparently tasted exactly as you’d expect it to – although Peck enjoyed the Dark and Frozen, it wasn’t interesting enough that he’d have it again.

Dark and Frozen.

Templeton Peck couldn’t find room for a proper dessert, but my interest was piqued by the deep-fried Oreos, a dish that would no doubt make Elvis’ heart swell with pride and quite possibly cardiac arrhythmia. The slightly crisp, fluffy batter of each slice was essentially identical to that used in the deep fried pickles, but instead of a slice of vegetable at the centre of each one, there was a warm Oreo cookie that had been rendered soft and downy by the heat of the cooking oil.

Although it looks and sounds odd, the smooth, soft textures made these Oreos far better than the usual off-the-shelf varieties. The wispy vaguely vanilla-flavoured dipping sauce was a pleasing accompaniment, but the bland chocolate dipping sauce wasn’t worth bothering with.

They really will deep fry anything in America.

Far tastier then it has any right to be.

Apart from a massive red ornament dangling over the kitchen, the decor isn’t especially interesting. The front of the restaurant which faces out onto the Mirage’s shopping promenade is especially characterless, while tables further inside have to contend with the ever present Vegas hallmark of multiple flatscreen TVs showing sports. Service, while not especially warm or friendly, was at least efficient and quick.

Burger Bar Mandalay Bay

I visited the Mandalay Bay’s Burger Bar before back in July 2011. Like many other eateries in Vegas, the Burger Bar has the feel of a sports bar with its dim lighting and numerous screens showing sports. The service on my weekend lunchtime visit was friendly and started out reasonably efficient, but became increasingly unreliable and slow as the place filled up with rowdy football fans.

The American Classic bacon cheeseburger is the closest thing the Burger Bar has to a plain burger. The sharp onions, lettuce, pickles and icy tomatoes are served on the side, while the lightly toasted bun is unobtrusive and holds the half-pound patty, the American cheese and the two streaky bacon rashers together well.

The patty isn’t bad, but it’s not as accomplished as its counterpart at BLT Burger. Cooked medium rare, the moderately coarse patty is mildly tangy and reasonably moist with a slight chewy edge. There’s little to say about the American cheese. The fatty bacon did have an initial hit of smokiness, but this quickly subsided.

When in doubt, add cheap pork and even cheaper dairy.

Buttermilk onion rings sound enticing, but the reality was a slightly oily, thick, crunchy, stodgy batter that was hard going. The batter also obscured the sweet moistness of the sweated onions underneath.

Was it the buttermilk’s day off?

The Burger Bar has a couple of quirky burger-shaped desserts. This time around I opted for the burger cheesecake, but its construction wasn’t as elaborate or as whimsical as the dessert burger I had last time. The buns are actually a pair of firm, glazed doughnut slices. Sandwiched in between was a dense tab of reasonably creamy cheesecake as well as slices of pineapple and strawberry. It’s not a bad dessert, but not only does it taste unremarkable, it’s also not nearly as fun as it should be.

Not a cheeseburger, a cheesecake burger!

Gordon Ramsay BurGR

Gordon Ramsay is just as much a celebrity in the United States as he is in Britain and nowhere in America is this more evident than Las Vegas. The angry blonde’s empire is slowly expanding across the Sin City with a steak restaurant, a recreation of an English pub and now a burger restaurant set within the Planet Hollywood hotel.

The worldwide Planet Hollywood franchise of restaurants are known for their lacklustre burgers, so the hotel’s decision to bring in a Ramsay-branded burger restaurant is an intriguing one. Even more curious is the layout of BurGR (a play on Ramsay’s initials) – the boundary between the brightly lit, colourful dining room/bar and the hotel lobby is a blurry one with only a few partitions separating the two.

Service was, as expected for Las Vegas, a well-oiled, efficient machine. We were seated with our orders taken and drinks on our table within five minutes of stepping through the door.

Interestingly, a vast beer menu was available on an iPad temporarily deposited at our table. Czech Republic and Gangster Limp opted for the safe choices of a Coors and a Stella Artois, while Templeton Peck went for a Sam Adams ale instead. I settled on a root beer, which was rather muted at best.

What can be more American than root beer?

As usual I opted for the plainest burger on the terrifying-looking menu to see how well the kitchen coped with the basics. In this case it was the American Burger – a medium rare patty topped with American cheese, ‘butter lettuce’, tomato, pickle and onion. The coarsely ground patty was  lightly seasoned, moist and mildly tangy with a subtle but evenly sweet, smoky effect, but these characteristics were overwhelmed by the thick, airy bun which got in the way of the meat. The vegetables were mostly unremarkable, but there was the distinctive tang of excessive salt – this could’ve been in the cheese or the ‘butter lettuce’. Either way it was unnecessary and slightly unpleasant.

Well, a burger I guess.

Czech Republic, Templeton Peck and Gangster Limp all opted for the Farm Burger, where a patty had been topped with duck bacon, cheddar and a fried egg. However, they respectively chose to have their burgers cooked rare, medium rare and medium respectively.

Git down to the farm

Gangster Limp’s burger arrived medium rare rather than medium, but he, along with the other two, enjoyed the richness added by the egg, the moistness of the tangy patty and the creaminess of the cheddar. I thought Czech Republic’s rare patty was a little on the bland side with the egg and dense, soy-like salty bacon providing most of the flavour, but he was adamant that the flash cooking preserved more of the meat’s flavour.

Pinko scum

We may have differed in our opinions when it came to the burger, but we were all unanimous in our disapproval of the fries. These curiously flat fries were incredibly dry and tough – the provided ketchup and other condiments were essential for successfully holding down these cardboard-like bits of potato.

Fossilised kitty litter.

A close second in unpleasantness were the onion rings. Although whole rings of onions gently sweated were present, they were covered in a thick, doughy batter and an excessive amount of sickly parmesan which obscured both their taste and texture. As expected for the US, the portion sizes of both the fries and onion rings were of planetary proportions – there was more than enough to share between the four of us.

Rings of power? No, not really.

My three dining companions were satiated, but I found just enough room for the Shake No. 1 – a mixture of caramel pudding and chocolate milkshake topped with a toffee cookie. The  massive dessert in a glass was almost inedible though – thick layers of sickly sweet sludge sitting on top of each other with a bland biscuit and a dense cream sitting on top. Thanks, but no thanks.

The Exxon Valdez has nothing on this mutha.

Heart Attack Grill

Las Vegas is all about excess. Apart from the hotel buffets, I can’t think of any restaurant more excessive then the Heart Attack Grill. Located in downtown Vegas not far from the Fremont Street Experience, this diner flaunts the heart stoppingly unhealthy nature of its food on its sleeve loudly and proudly.

The Heart Attack Grill’s flagship dish is the quadruple bypass burger, a four patty monster that contains two pounds of meat in total. According to the Guiness Book of Records, this 10,000 calorie beast is the world’s most calorific burger. If you fail to finish it, or any of the other burgers, then the waitresses, all dolled up to look like nurses, will give you a spanking (and you can buy the paddle too if you like).

According to our very friendly, chatty and flirtatious waitress, Nurse Rikki, 30-40 people order the quadruple bypass a day, but only two or three manage to finish the entire thing. Diners who weigh over 350 pounds eat for free (there are industrial-strength scales both inside and outside the restaurant), with one such chuffer waddling in behind us.

Self-harm.

Spanky panky.

Neither Templeton Peck nor I couldn’t bring ourselves to order the quadruple bypass, or even the two or three patty versions. We both opted for the single bypass burger which uses a single half-pound patty. I wasn’t expecting much from this burger, so I was pleasantly surprised by the offally, mildly tangy taste of the patty. It was a touch dry though and the slightly bitty grind is odd. The toasted bun does a good job of staying in the background and holding the entire sandwich together, while the vegetables are crisp and refreshing.

Hurtful things.

I had my single bypass plain, but Templeton Peck chose to add some American cheese and five slices of very fatty streaky bacon. This much fatty pork naturally obscured the taste of the meat to some extent, but a well-judged balancing of subtle flavours is hardly the name of the game here.

This might be a bad idea.

Even the side dishes and drinks are ridiculous. Despite being fried in lard, the soft, squidgy fries topped with chilli beef are very bland. If there was ever a dish that tasted of colours, then this is it.

This tastes of yellow and brown.

Similarly bland was the thick chocolate milkshake made with butterfat and topped with a tab of butter for comic effect. I could feel my arteries hardening with each slurp of the sludge-like mixture which didn’t even taste of anything.

Buttershake.

The Heart Attack Grill’s decor is suitably tongue in cheek. Spoof movie posters, from Burger Wars to A Few Good Burgers and 1,000,000 Calories B.C., line the walls, while news footage of the man who apparently did suffer a heart attack while dining here is proudly played on a loop above the bar. Even the receipts are stuffed with jokes.

Check out the smocks.

Poster boys.

Rattlecan

Formerly located inside The Venetian, this restaurant decorated in a faux graffiti style has now closed and, judging from my visit, not a moment too soon.

Rattlecan served up a few hotdogs and salads, but my focus was clearly on its burgers. The place also had an extensive selection of beers from the usual suspects to some more unusual choices. Templeton Peck was pleased with his Magic Hat, a light and fruity beer from Vermont.

I snacked on a bowl of dill pickle popcorn. Unlike the bland bone marrow popcorn from Dach and Sons back in London, this salty sack actually did taste like dill pickles although the lack of moisture spoiled the effect. Depressingly though, the popcorn turned out to be the highlight of our meal.

Pickle popcorn not pickled popcorn.

As usual, I opted for the simplest burger on the menu – in this case the Old School. Although billed as pink and juicy, the griddled patty was anything but – it was bitty, incredibly dry and heavily overcooked. Even the pickles, lettuce, onion and tomato (the latter three are served on the side) failed to add moisture to this distressingly cardboard-like slab of ‘beef’. The sesame brioche bun didn’t taste like brioche at all and was instead inoffensively soft and bland. I had to slather this atrocity in Tabasco sauce, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able eat it.

The worst burger I have ever had.

Templeton Peck’s Burner burger used the same awful patty as the Old School, but was more edible since it was topped with roasted green chillies, jalapenos and a spicy sauce. The fiery fruitiness apparently proved sufficient enough to camouflage the appalling quality of the patty.

Sadly, you can’t make out the spicy toppings on top of the patty in this burger.

The plain crinkle cut fries were bone dry fingers of reconstituted mush rather than actual slices of whole potato. I couldn’t eat more than a few of these fries – they’re easily the worst I’ve ever had. They’re even worse than the fossilised kitty litter potato things served up at BurGR.

The worst fries I’ve ever had.

The onion rings were only marginally better. Although whole slices of actual onion are at the centre of each ring, the parched, crunchy, coarse batter is not only bland but it also obscures whatever taste the onions have.

Horrid.

The Winner

Of the five Vegas burger joints surveyed here, BLT Burger was easily the best although it still wasn’t perfect. The patty at Gordon Ramsay BurGR is surprisingly good, but poor construction and some very shoddily made side dishes detract from the overall experience. Burger Bar and the Heart Attack Grill aren’t too bad, but each has their own problems preventing them from challenging BLT Burger for the top shot. Rattlecan was simply appalling – I wouldn’t serve such food to an animal.

I’m not sure if I’ll back in Vegas to try more burgers, so if you want even more Sin City burger reviews then check out the Vegas Burger Blog.

BLT Burger
Total cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $41 (approx. £28 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★★☆

Burger Bar Mandalay Bay
Average cost inc soft drinks but exc. tips: $31 (approx. £21 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★☆☆

Gordon Ramsay BurGR
Average cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between four: $27 (approx. £19 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★★☆☆

Heart Attack Grill
Average cost inc soft drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $13 (approx. £9 at time of writing)
Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Rattlecan
Average cost inc drinks but exc. tips when shared between two: $28 (approx. £19 at time of writing)
Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Caesar’s Palace hotel in Las Vegas has several dining options and one of the glossier ones is Beijing Noodle No. 9. This Chinese restaurant is very eye-catching thanks to its fish tanks full of goldfish and oddly snowflake-like decor. It’s easily one of the most aesthetically pleasing restaurant I’ve been to in a while.

Sparkles!

As I’d expect from a Chinese restaurant, the service was efficient but brusque, while the menu was large with seemingly something for everyone. Besides noodle soups, there were also Dim Sum dishes, dumplings as well as many other Cantonese and Sichuanese favourites.

I opted for the Sichuan dan dan noodles. The thick soft noodles were topped with minced pork in a mildly spicy sauce. Sadly, this only had a very modest amount of the numbing, tingly taste of Sichuan pepper that I’d expect in a Sichuanese dish while the scatterings of pork were on small and excessively bitty. Disappointing.

Dan’s noodles were so good, they named them after him twice.

Templeton Peck had better luck with his wonton noodle soup. The thin, supple wonton skins were filled with a meaty chunk of pork, but the small tasteless bits of seaweed and dried shrimp added little. The clear, chicken stock soup was pleasing though, complimenting the won tons well, while the noodles were the same as those used in the Sichuan dan dan noodle dish. However, both our noodle dishes were a touch on the small side, at least by American standards.

Are the wontons supposed to look like that?

I was looking forward to the xiaolongbao, but these Shanghaiese soup dumplings were disappointing. Oddly, each dumpling was served in a foil cupcake shell which distorted their shape. This wouldn’t have mattered if they tasted good, but the skins were far too soft and thin, while the pork and soup filling was uninspiringly bland. Even the worst xiaolongbao that I’ve had in London are better than this.

Did Mr Kipling make these?

The pillow of pan-fried shrimp and chives was a mixed bag at best. The thin deep-fried dumpling-like skin was roughly the shape and size of a potato farl and filled with an odd mixture that had plenty of chives, very little actual shrimp and had a texture reminiscent of an omelette. Not what I expected at all.

Pleasing pan-fried pillow pancake?

Or billowy fun pillows?

Templeton Peck didn’t have room for dessert, but I opted for the mochi ice cream if only because a Japanese dessert on a Chinese menu seemed very out of place. Sadly, this dessert turned out to be rougher than a badger’s arse. Three separate blobs of ice cream were coated in a mochi skin, but the rice flour coating was far too thick and didn’t have the soft elasticity that’s the mark of a good mochi. Even the ice creams themselves weren’t very good – the green tea, passion fruit and vanilla flavours were spectacularly pedestrian.

Mochi monsters.

The Verdict

Although there are clearly some decent dishes to be had on the menu at Beijing Noodle No. 9, finding them amongst all the mediocre or just plain bad ones can be a tall order. Adding insult to injury is the high price. At £28 each when shared between two (with Templeton Peck having just one beer and excluding tips), the price is far too high given the lacklustre quality of the food and the large, unfocussed menu. One to avoid unless you’re desperate for food and can’t be arsed to travel any farther.

Name: Beijing Noodle No. 9

Branch tried: Caesars Palace, 3570 Las Vegas Blvd S, Las Vegas, NV 89109

Phone: 001 (702) 731-7604

Web: http://www.totalrewards.com/casinos/caesars-palace/restaurants-dining/beijing-noodle-no-9-detail.html (down at time of writing)

Opening Hours: Monday-Friday 11.00-22.30. Closed weekends (allegedly).

Reservations: yeah if you want

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two people: $28 (approx. £19 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Way back in September 2011 I set out to find the best flat white coffee in London, trying out 21 different versions. Since then I’ve received numerous requests for a follow-up and after some delay, here it is. If you’ve read my first flat white round up then feel free to skip forward to the reviews themselves. If you have no idea what a flat white is, then you may wish to read this introduction first.

What is a flat white?

There’s much debate over what exactly a flat white is, but for me it’s an Australian/New Zealander version of the latte. The difference is subtle but important – a flat white should be made from two ‘short’ double shots of espresso (also known as a ristretto, the definition of which is another source of debate among coffee lovers) giving it a strong, bold flavour with little to no bitterness or acidity. The other essential component is hot steamed milk which is prepared and poured in a specific way to add a thin but velvety, silky smooth ‘microfoam’ to the top of the brew. Various other blogs and illustrated webpages show the preparation of a flat white in some detail.

Why are you writing about coffee? I thought this was a blog about restaurants?!

This blog isn’t deviating from my stated purpose of stuffing my face in London’s restaurants for your reading pleasure to cover coffee too. However, I’m making an exception for the flat white given how truly mediocre or just plain awful some commercially made flat whites are.

How did you conduct this caffeinated jaunt of idiocy?

I’ve judged each flat white on texture, taste and their ‘kick in the pants’ factor – how alert I feel after drinking the coffee and for how long. This is obviously very subjective, but I’ve attempted to add some pseudo-scientific method to it. I sampled each flat white on a weekday morning before I head into the office for a hard day’s work without any additional caffeine, either before the flat white or after it, until I start feeling sleepy/fatigued.

I drank flat whites from 50 different establishments, both chains and independents, across London over the past three months. I only revisited a couple of the winners from my last flat white round up. The quality of the final coffee is obviously very much dependent on the skill of the specific barista behind the bar, so there will doubtless some natural variation between the way they’re described here and how you might experience them yourself.

The Lensman has a pet theory that the longer the preparation time, the better the flat white. I’ve therefore timed how long it took for each flat white to be prepared, but this is only approximate since my view of the barista at work is sometimes blocked or I may have been distracted by my fellow customers.

Without further ado…

Tablet of Contents (click to jump directly to a review)
Allpress
Bean and Gone
Beas of Bloomsbury
Bermondsey Street Coffee
Bird and Ballard
Brick Lane Coffee
Caffe Paradiso
Caffe Ritazza
Camden Coffee House
Camden Food Co
Caravan
Chez Le Boulanger
Coffee East
Coffee Works Project
Cotton Cafe
Department of Coffee and Social Affairs
The Diner
Dose
Euphorium
Federation
Finns of Chelsea Green
Flat White
Fleet River Bakery
Foxcroft and Ginger
Full Stop
Gail’s
Ginger and White
Hays
Kaffeine
Kahalia
Leyas
Liberty of Norton Folgate
LJ Cafe
Madame Chi
MADD
Maison d’être
Monmouth Coffee
M&S
Mozzino
Notes
Ozone
Pod
Prufrock
Salt
Soho Joe
Store Street Espresso
Taylor Street Baristas
Tinderbox
Vagabond
Weanie Beans
Workshop

Allpress (Shoreditch)

Allpress isn’t just a cafe, but also a supplier of beans both to the public and to trade customers. One can only hope its commercial clients can cook up a better tasting flat white than Allpress itself though. The coffee tasted tart bordering on sour, making it mildly unpleasant to drink. There wasn’t much in the way of a head and what little head there was lacked both smoothness and silkiness. It was potent enough to keep me going until the end of the working day though, so it’s not completely without merit.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Bean and Gone

This mobile coffee stall sometimes occupies the same space near King’s Cross as Weanie Beans. Like Weanie Beans’ flat white, Bean and Gone’s brew kept me going well into the afternoon. It tasted a little different though – initially tart, the brew was quite bright overall with a moderate silkiness to it.

Time taken: 1m15s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Beas of Bloomsbury

The original branch of Beas is naturally located in Bloomsbury, but there are a handful of other branches throughout London. The New Change location, housed in the same shopping centre as Barbecoa and within spitting distance of St. Paul’s, could only manage a rather bland, tame flat white that, at best, had a very mild hint of tartness and maltiness to it. At least the brew kept me from crashing well into the day though.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Bermondsey Street Coffee

This friendly little joint is located just opposite the White Cube gallery. Their flat white was too foamy though and the bland milkiness diluted the slight tartness present in this coffee. It was strong enough to keep me going until just after lunch, but that was it.

Time taken: 1m45s
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Bird and Ballard

Bird and Ballard has a hideous exterior dominated by a massive billboard but its quirkily decorated interior is pure-Shoreditch. If only this cafe had put as much effort into its flat white. This rather bitter coffee was lacking in smoothness and wasn’t very pleasant to drink. Plus I needed another jolt by lunchtime.

Time taken: 4m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Brick Lane Coffee

This coffee shop has a rather odd decor with posters of Steve Jobs and Kim Jong-Il lining the walls (perhaps the owners are Android users trying to make a point). The joint is actually owned by the same company that’s also behind Bermondsey Street Coffee, so it’s no surprise that the flat whites turned out quite similar. Although thin and creamy, the head was still just a little too foamy for my liking. It was also a rather bland coffee with only a slight tartness to tickle the taste buds. At least it kept me going until after Countdown.

Time taken: 4m30s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Caffe Paradiso

This Italian cafe and wannabe-deli is located only a few doors down from Store Street Espresso. Its flat white is available in regular and large sizes. The large serving is monstrously big and the sheer amount of coffee probably accounted for the fireworks going off in my head. It’s a smooth, silky coffee, but it’s also very milky and thus quite bland. This flat white is bordering on latte territory, but at least it’s not as desperately bad as some of the other coffees here.

Time taken: 1m45s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Caffe Ritazza (Euston)

This international chain only seems to have branches inside train stations and the Euston branch serves up a deplorable flat white. The sour, watery puddle not only tasted awful, it wasn’t even that strong with my mouth gasping for another caffeine shot within a couple of hours.

Time taken: 2m approx
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Camden Coffee House

This small two-floor cafe is a friendly, welcoming joint so it’s a shame its flat white is so bad. The coffee was very bland with a non-existent head and I desperately needed another caffeine fix within two hours of downing it.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★☆☆☆☆

Camden Food Co (Victoria)

This chain of sandwich shops seems to be located almost exclusively within train stations and has no relation that I know of to the Camden Coffee House above. Their flat white isn’t worth bothering with though – the brew is excessively foamy and is both very weak and very bitter. Bleurgh.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Caravan

Located a short walk from King’s Cross station, Caravan serves breakfast, lunch and dinner in its informal dining room alongside its takeaway coffee bar. Although the erratic service needs a slap, it’s hard to find fault with the flat white here. The thin head was smooth and silky while the coffee itself was chocolatey with a light smokiness to it. The coffee was also powerful enough to keep me going well into the afternoon.

Time taken: 2m39s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Chez Le Boulanger

I had my doubts that Chez Le Boulanger would be able to cook up a respectable flat white since this Islington cafe serves up a dizzying array of sandwiches, cakes, quiches and pastas as well as coffees. Plus the poor overworked soul behind the counter was initially didn’t know what a flat white was.

My suspicions were confirmed by the watery, bitter cup of bile that I was presented with. The bubbly foam belonged in a bottle of washing up liquid. I managed to keep it all down, but the initial caffeine hit wore off within a couple of hours. Rubbish.

Time taken: 2m45s approx.
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Coffee East

This mobile stall can usually be found outside Shoreditch High Street station, but it also pops up at other random locations. Its flat white tastes quite sharp and bright, verging on sourness. Although the head looked very foamy, it settled down quickly but isn’t silky in the slightest and its kick in the pants factor only lasted until about noon-ish. Underwhelming.

(Sorry folks, no photo of this one. I must’ve been distracted by my own fatigue.)

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Coffee Works Project

This Islington coffee house uses iPads to process orders, but it should’ve perhaps invested the money elsewhere. The flat white wasn’t smooth or silky at all. The drink had a mild bitterness to it and the occasional smoky hint, but this was an otherwise inoffensive tasting brew. It was strong enough to fuel me for most of the day though.

Time taken: 2m approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Cotton Cafe

Flat whites have clearly hit the London mainstream whey they’re available in Marks and Spencer stores and in greasy caffs like the Cotton Cafe on Berwick Street in Soho. Although the brew here did have some maltiness to it, the head wasn’t smooth or silky at all and it tasted quite bitter and watery too. At least it was strong, but then I’d expect nothing less than jet fuel from a caff coffee.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Department of Coffee and Social Affairs

If this coffee shop was a real government department, I’d be writing to my MP to complain. The milky, sour excuse for a flat white wasn’t smooth or especially strong either. Gah.

Time taken: 1m34s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

The Diner (Soho)

I was unimpressed with the burger at the Islington branch of The Diner, so I approached the Soho branch to try out its flat white with some degree of trepidation. The oddly wispy head gave way to a watery, acidic and bitter brew that I had trouble keeping down. At least it kept me awake, but still. Ugh.

Time taken: 3m approx.
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Dose

The flat whites at this cafe are available in regular and large sizes, one of the few places I encountered that still offers this choice. The coffee was moderately smooth and silky with a slight smoky chocolately flavour to it. Despite its size however the large serving wasn’t as strong as I expected – I started to crash just after lunchtime.

Time taken: 2m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Euphorium (Covent Garden)

This mini-chain has a couple of branches in Islington and elsewhere, but I tried out the flat white from its Covent Garden outlet which is located in a small shopping centre’s basement. Although the head was very fullsome and foamy, it quickly settled down. It wasn’t very silky, but this mellow coffee was very drinkable although I started feeling sleepy again within a couple of hours.

Time taken: 2m approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Federation

Federation is located in the eastern end of Brixton Market and this attractive Antipodean cafe has a tasty range of pastries, including a cracking Anzac biscuit. Its flat white kicked off with a strong smoky hit that was unusual but delicious. It was quickly replaced by a tart, rounded bitterness and ended on a sweet note. The overall effect was somewhat chocolatey. Although relatively smooth, the extremely thin, almost non-existent head wasn’t very silky.

Sadly, despite its complex taste, the kick in the pants factor started to fade by around lunchtime. Federation’s flat white is more like a latte, but at least it’s a good latte.

Time taken: 1m50s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Finns of Chelsea Green

This small deli/cafe in Chelsea may serve a well-heeled clientele, but its flat white tastes like ditch water. The brew was far too bitter with an excessively foamy head lacking in silkiness, but it did at least have enough punch to keep me going until just after lunchtime.

Time taken: 1m16s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Flat White

This Soho cafe was one of the winners from my last flat white round up and it’s still as good as ever. The smooth, silky head gives way to a malty, fruity brew with a mild, rounded bitterness that isn’t overpowering. Best of all, I was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day. Bliss.

Time taken: 3 minutes approx.
Taste: ★★★★★
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Fleet River Bakery

This small coffee shop is located on a side street off High Holborn and probably sees more than its fair share of lawyers and wannabe lawyers from the nearby courts and university. The head of the flat white here was a little too foamy and not silky or smooth enough for my liking. I was also unimpressed by the slightly sour, bitter taste. It gave me just enough of a boost to last until just after lunchtime.

Time taken: 1m32s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Foxcroft and Ginger

Foxcroft and Ginger may sound like a 1950s matinee idol duo, but it’s actually a mini chain of coffee shops. I passed over the Boxpark branch in favour of the Soho outlet. The flat white was silky and mellow with a slight tartness. It’s not the most distinctive tasting brew, but it was strong enough to keep me from flagging until late in the afternoon.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Full Stop

Brick Lane’s Full Stop feels more like a bar than a cafe, but it can rustle up a decent flat white. The coffee was malty and subtly tart with a slightly smoky aftertaste, while the very thin head was quite smooth. I needed another fix by lunchtime though.

Time taken: Unknown
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Gail’s (Soho)

I’m not sure who this Gail is, but her flat whites are whoppers. The sheer size probably accounts for the off-the-scales buzziness that this coffee induced. Sadly, it was a rather bland, milky drink with a minimal amount of silkiness to it.

Time taken: 2m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Ginger and White

Ginger and White advertises itself as a British coffee shop, but that doesn’t stop it from serving a flat white. Although smooth and silky, the coffee was otherwise quite bland with perhaps a hint of acidity every now and again. It was at least potent enough to keep me humming along for most of the day though.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Hays

This yuppie minimart near London Bridge station serves up an underwhelming flat white. The head is a little too foamy and the mildly acidic, bitter taste was unpleasant. It kept me going until around around noon at which point I need to rinse out my mouth and bang my head against a wall.

Time taken: 1m45s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Kaffeine

Kaffeine was one of the winners from my first round-up of flat white coffees. The flat white this time around was a bit more bitter and not quite as silky as last time, but it’s still a very quaffable coffee with a naturally sweet maltiness to it. Plus, it’s still strong enough to keep me peppy enough for most of the day so I can annoy The Prancing Hippy and The Flame Haired Squelchie.

Time taken: 1m35s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Kahalia

I wasn’t expecting much from this Brick Lane cafe, so I was very pleasantly surprised by its exceptionally smooth and mellow flat white. Initially tart, it finishes on a subtly dark chocolate-like bitterness that’s delightfully complex. Plus it had more than enough kick to have me bouncing off the walls. Bonanza!

Time taken: 2m approx.
Taste: ★★★★★
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Leyas

I stumbled across this split-level coffee shop midway between Camden Town and Mornington Crescent Tube stations purely by accident. I usually prefer my flat whites to have a mellow taste with very little acidity, but the tart, rounded acidity of Leyas’ flat white was surprisingly pleasing. The exceedingly smooth, thin head was just right too. Sadly though, I was feeling sleepy within a couple hours of sipping this brew. Sometimes you really can’t have it all.

Time taken: 3m21s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Liberty of Norton Folgate

The oddly-named Liberty of Norton Folgate may be located in the City, but it feels like a Shoreditch intruder with its stark decor and odd system of dual entrance ways. Although the flat white here was only moderately silky, its naturally sweet maltiness was almost fruit-like. Not only did it taste good, but I was buzzing along well into the afternoon.

Time taken: 2m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

LJ Cafe

The Lensman is quite fond of the flat whites at this plain jane Soho cafe, but they were clearly having an off-day when I dropped by. The head is a bit too foamy for its own good. The rest of the drink is naturally sweet with a slight smokiness, but it’s all very subtle as is its silkiness. The kick in the pants factor is more like a slight pat on the bum – I was flagging within two hours of downing the brew.

Time taken: just over 1m
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Madame Chi

I wasn’t expecting much from this ridiculously-named Upper Street cafe, so I was very pleasantly surprised by its potent strength and its exceptionally rich silkiness. Sadly, once I got past the thin head it tasted rather bland and forgettable.

Time taken: 2m approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

MADD

I’m not sure why an eatery that specialises in mango-based desserts also serves up a flat white. It’s more of a latte though – it’s not very silky and it’s quite creamy and mildly tart too. It is at least strong enough to keep me going well into the afternoon.

Time taken: 2m30s
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Maison d’être

This charming little cafe near Highbury and Islingon station can produce a flat white with a very thin head that’s reasonably silky. Sadly it didn’t taste of much besides a very mild tartness, but it did have enough pep to keep me buzzing along well into the afternoon.

Time taken: 3m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Monmouth Coffee (Covent Garden)

Monmouth Coffee is revered by some caffeine addicts and the company also supplies beans to a good chunk of the cafes in this round up. I wasn’t impressed by the flat white from the Covent Garden branch of Monmouth though. Although tart and naturally sweet, the flat white wasn’t silky in the slightest and its strength started petering out before the morning was out.

Time taken: 3m approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

M&S (Edgware Road)

I assume all Marks and Spencers with cafes now serve flat whites, but I really hope there aren’t all as bad as the one at the Edgware Road branch. The bitter, sour, headless brew was almost undrinkable. It did at least have a reasonable amount of pep to it, keeping me going until around lunchtime.

Time taken: 1m42s approx.
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Mozzino

This vaguely Italian cafe near Carnaby Street serves up a potent flat white that kept me going until the end of the day. This only made its poor taste all the more disappointing – slightly bitter, acidic and with a head that was not silky at all.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★★

Notes (Covent Garden)

I was expecting the worst from this mini-chain of cafes-cum-bars, but the flat white from the branch near Joe Allen was actually passable. Although not especially strong or silky, it did have a mildly chocolatey, malty taste.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Ozone

Ozone got quite a lot of buzz when it first opened, but I’m in two minds over its flat white. The naturally sweet brew was fruity and bright, but it wasn’t very silky and I needed another kick start just after lunch. Not bad, but could be better.

Time taken: 3m45s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Pod (Goodge Street)

I’ve never had any of the sandwiches and soups from this chain of lunchtime eateries, but I really hope they’re not bad as the flat white from the Goodge Street branch. The watery brew was tart to the point of sourness and had next to no effect on my alertness.

Time taken: 1m approx.
Taste: ★☆☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★☆☆☆☆

Prufrock

Located a few doors down from the Department of Coffee and Social Affairs, Prufrock produced a far superior flat white. The thin, smooth and silky head gave way to a mildly bitter yet naturally sweet and subtly smoky drink. The overall effect was chocolatey and the buzzing in my head didn’t stop well into the day. Excellent.

Time taken: 1m34s
Taste: ★★★★★
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Salt

Located just a few doors down from Great Queen Street, the simply named Salt serves up a flat white that thankfully isn’t salty. This coffee was reasonably smooth with a slightly tart, mildly chocolatey taste. The initial buzz died down after only a couple of hours though.

Time taken: 1m26s
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Soho Joe

Soho Joe only just does an adequate job at serving pizzas, it’s main staple, so I didn’t have high hopes for its flat white. Although mildly malty with a very slight tartness, it’s not smooth and silky at all and it’s about as strong as a silk blouse used as a lamp post. Do yourself a favour and skip this place entirely.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Store Street Espresso

Despite its name Store Street Espresso sells other coffees besides espressos including flat whites. The version here seemed bland at first, but further sips revealed a malty, sweet flavour with a slightly tart aftertaste but it’s not an especially silky brew. The coffee seemed to set my spine tingling at first, but the effect quickly wore off after a couple of hours.

Time taken: 1m45s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★☆☆

Taylor Street Baristas

This mini-chain was recommended by a reader of my first flat white roundup. While I was pleased by the mild fruity brightness, the initial silkiness wore off very quickly. It was also quite weak – I was gasping within a couple of hours.

Time taken: 3m approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

Tinderbox

This Islington cafe, situated inside the N1 shopping centre, can rustle up a passable masala chai, but its flat white needs work. Although reasonably smooth and silky, the sour, slightly acidic taste of its flat white was far from great. It did at least keep me buzzing along until well into the afternoon.

Time taken: 1m25s
Taste: ★★☆☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Vagabond

This small cafe near Stroud Green Road can be very chilly in winter. Although its flat white wasn’t silky or smooth, it was at least drinkably mellow and malty. It kept me going until the dubious pleasures of Countdown knocked me out for the count.

Time taken: 2m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Weanie Beans

Weanie Beans has a permanent presence in north London, but it also operates stalls at King’s Cross, Barnes and Chiswick markets. I tried the flat white at its King’s Cross stall and found it only mildly silky with a slight tart maltiness to it. It did have quite a kick though and I was able to last until the middle of the afternoon before feeling sleepy.

Time taken: 1m35s approx.
Taste: ★★★☆☆
Kick in the pants: ★★★★☆

Workshop

Workshop has two branches, one in Clerkenwell and another in Marylebone just a stone’s throw away from Selfridge. I was impressed by the exceedingly smooth, creamy tartness of Workshop’s flat white, but the head was a touch too foamy. Even worse, I started feeling drowsy only a couple of hours later. If you’re still tempted, the flat white here is off the menu so you have to ask for it specifically.

Time taken: 1m30s approx.
Taste: ★★★★☆
Kick in the pants: ★★☆☆☆

The Winners

While the Lensman’s rule of thumb, the longer it takes to prepare a flat white then the better it will be, turned out to be eerily accurate last time, it wasn’t quite as prescient in this round up. Although almost no quickly-prepared flat white passed muster, it was also the case that some flat whites which took forever to prepare weren’t very good anyway.

This is probably the last time I’ll be able to do a round up of flat white coffees in London. Once uncommon, it’s now so widespread it can be found in caffs, train stations and branches of M&S. Plus, this much caffeine over a two and a half month period can’t be good for me – at one point, I swear I could see individual air molecules making faces at me.

Picking the winners was easy. In no particular order, Flat White, Kahalia and Prufrock are capable of knocking up exceptional flat whites that not only taste great but pack quite a wallop too. Although not quite as outstanding, Kaffeine, The Liberty of Norton Folgate, Caravan, Federation, Foxcroft and Ginger and Madame Chi deserve honourable mentions. Good quality flat whites in Soho, Brick Lane, Holborn, Fitzrovia, Brixton, Kings Cross, the City and Islington – now there’s no excuse for having a crap coffee in London.

It’d be easy to dismiss Burger and Shake as a mere imitator of Burger and Lobster. Both serve burgers and lobster rolls, but the two do have their differences. Whereas Burger and Lobster is a spin-off chain of the Goodmans steak empire, Burger and Shake is an independent. The Mayfair and Soho branches of Burger and Lobster have a rather dark, clubby feel to them whereas Burger and Shake has a lighter, more diner-like feel to the place. More substantively, Burger and Shake also has other items on the menu such as hot dogs and hot wings.

Naturally, I had to eat at both of them and see how they fared against each other.

Burger and Lobster

I’ve been to both the original Green Park and Soho branches of Burger and Lobster before, but this was a good opportunity to revisit the Soho outpost. The single-price menu is pretty simple – £20 for a burger, a lobster or a lobster roll. Fries and salad included. Sadly, you can’t actually choose your lobster from the display tanks.

Hello friend!

Join the club.

The lobster can be ordered steamed or steamed and grilled. I opted for latter and the result is a lobster that is charred and a little smoky, but the flesh is still firm and retains a slight milkiness to it that’s very pleasing. The accompanying fries are good enough – thin, reasonably crisp and bitty on the inside. The side salad is rather earthy, dressed in a sharp balsamic vinaigrette and topped with crisp croutons.

What about Zoidberg?

Stupid Zoidberg!

Having the lobster roll instead of the whole crustacean may seem odd, but it’s a more convenient and less messy way of shovelling almost the same amount of seafood into your mouth. The doorstop of a toasted roll is surprisingly large. It’s crisp, buttery and does a good job of holding in the filling with almost no spillage. Compared to previous renditions of the same dish at the Mayfair branch though, the lobster filling was oddly uneven. Some of the milky lobster chunks were chilled whereas others were warm, but at least all were reasonably firm.

Just roll with it.

Regular readers will recognise Burger and Lobster as one of the winners of my massive burger round-up and thankfully the burger here is still excellent. The moderately coarse patty cooked medium rare has an attractive quiveringly pink colour and was moist with a rich tanginess that was very satisfying. It’s heavily stacked though with lots of onions, lettuce and heavily chilled tomatoes. The mildly buttery buns struggled to hold it all together and eventually disintegrated which is not ideal as once you’ve picked this burger up, you can’t put it down again. Not that you’d want to.

Even with the new construction issues, this is still one of the best burgers in London.

Burger and Lobster’s desserts are usually of the ice cream or mousse-in-a-cup variety. A prime example is the berry and biscotti cheesecake mousse which, apart from the coarse, fine crumbed biscotti, greatly resembles a Cornetto in a cup. Nothing to write home about, but it will satisfy your sweet tooth if you can’t be bothered to waddle off somewhere else after polishing off your mains.

A cheesecake mousse? What witchcraft is this?

Burger and Shake

Burger and Shake doesn’t serve up lobster separately, just as part of its lobster roll. It’s not radically different from Burger and Lobster’s version, but there are some differences. The soft, buttery brioche roll is a little thick and can get in the way of the lobster filling which feels precariously placed and in perpetual danger of spilling out. The bun doesn’t have the same crisp, golden, toasted exterior either.

The lobster filling itself is arguably better than its counterpart at Burger and Lobster though. The flesh isn’t as milky, but it is firm and flavoured with a sprinkling of chives, while the bisque-style sauce reinforces the fresh, distinctive taste of the crustacean.

Rock ‘n’ roll.

The accompanying fries, included in the price with the lobster roll but otherwise sold separately, are bitty on the inside but they are also reasonably crisp, golden and thankfully free of excess oil.

I’d much rather have chips.

There’s only one dessert on the menu, a chocolate and peanut butter cheesecake served with mascarpone. There’s not much chocolate in this dessert, but it’s still far better than any of the desserts available at Burger and Lobster. The hearty slab of cheesecake has a distinct, but not overpowering taste of peanut. Its slight viscosity helps capture the texture of peanut butter, while the thick and dense mascarpone adds a much needed dollop of moistness.

Peanut butter jelly time! Well, without the jelly.

Burger and Shake may not have a separate lobster dish, but it does serve up both beef and pork hot dogs. Like the lobster roll, the pork dog is oddly constructed. It sits uneasily in its bun with the dill-flecked pickle slices perched on top and shreds of sauerkraut scattered about. There was surprisingly little spillage though, but the flavours of this hot dog were surprisingly muted. The dog was smooth, but only lightly smoky while the sauerkraut is dry and rather bland. Only the dill-flavoured pickles stand out.

Oink! Woof!

The buffalo hot wings were also underwhelming. The coating of Cayenne pepper hot sauce gave the wings a mildly tingly heat. It’s not potent enough for true spice aficionados, but it might be enough to scare away the lilly-livered who think Nik Naks are ferociously hot. Even if they were spicier, these wings can’t compare in either texture or taste to Patty and Bun’s superlative confit chicken wings.

Hot or not? Not.

Naturally, given the name, there are milkshakes on the menu. The chocolate version is smooth, creamy and not too thick or sickly sweet. It only has a very mild milk chocolate flavour though. The salted caramel milkshake is similar, but there’s hardly any saltiness to it making this a timid shadow of a salted caramel shake at best.

Boo.

Double boo.

Although ostensibly cooked medium rare, the burger I had varied from medium rare to medium but the moist, smoothly ground patty was still lightly tangy with a slight chewy edge to it. Surprisingly, the sweet, creamy burger sauce didn’t overwhelm the beef while the soft, buttery brioche bun did a good job of holding everything together. Overall it’s a good burger but it’s not as good as the best burgers in London, which includes Burger and Lobster’s own effort.

Horsemeat? Neigh!

I’m not usually a fan of coleslaw, but Burger and Shake’s version is not bad. The cabbage and carrot shreds are firm and crisp with an added zing in the form of parsley and onion. It’s not doused in a truck load of sickly cream either, which is either a good or a bad thing depending on your point of view.

‘slaw.

The Winner

When it comes to burgers, it’s no contest. Burger and Lobster’s effort is far tastier than Burger and Shake’s, although the unwieldy construction of the Burger and Lobster sandwich is a little worrying.

It was a harder fought battle when it came to the crustaceans though. Burger and Shake’s lobster roll is arguably just as good as Burger and Lobster’s and ultimately you can’t go wrong with either one. Although it’s a little unfair to ding Burger and Shake for a dish they don’t have, the skillfully cooked and delicious whole lobster at Burger and Lobster can’t be ignored and this alone helps this burgeoning chain claim the overall winner’s spot.

Name: Burger and Lobster

People never cease to surprise me. In light of the jaw-dropping levels of culinary conservatism that she demonstrated in Taipei, Chip Butty has an inexplicable fondness for Korean barbecue. We were therefore naturally compelled to eat the stuff at Kimchi Princess during our brief stay in Berlin. I would have preferred something a little more Teutonic, but what the heck.

Kimchi Princess is located in what used to be East Berlin, some way west of Treptower Park and south east of Museum Island. The dimly lit restaurant has a deliberately worn, industrial look to it with exposed ventilation ducts and corrugated steel walls in places. Sadly the outdoor benches are reserved for drinking only. The English-speaking staff are helpful and friendly, but there’s no need to get them to translate the menu as the text is in English as well as Korean and German.

It’s a bit like eating inside a shipping container.

Besides the dubious pleasure of Chip Butty’s company I dined at Kimchi Princess with Army Brat and Templeton Peck. We started off with kimchi pajeon, The version here is more like a pancake, whereas other versions elsewhere have resembled stuffed crepes. In any case Kimchi Princess’ version is thin and crisp with a soft centre and topped with kimchi that has only a very slight spicy kick. This severe lack of chilli punch was also evident in the small side dishes of standalone kimchi.

Think of it as a really thin pancake.

I don’t have a problem with kimchi. I can quit anytime I want.

The steamed pork and beef dumplings were oddly reminiscent of Polish pierogi dumplings with their very thick doughy skins and filled with smoothly ground meat. The fillings were juicy and slightly salty, but the provided sesame seed oil and chilli oil dipping sauces were severely lacking in flavour.

Mandoo? Mandu? You do, I do, you too!

After the underwhelming starters, I wasn’t expecting much from the barbecued meat but the portion sizes can’t be knocked – there’s a lot of meat. It’s all cooked using gas powered hot plates at your table, although once cooked the staff leave you to help yourself so it’s up to you to ensure the meat isn’t overcooked.

The thin slices of pork belly were juicy and fatty – just be careful not to leave them on the stove for too long or all the fat will sizzle away.

Fat of the land.

Beef and octopus is an unusual pairing, but here you get far more beef than octopus. The alleged spiciness was very muted which was a problem for the meaty chunks of octopus tentacles – octopus doesn’t really taste of much and is best used as a carrier for other flavours. The strips of beef were succulent and very tender though.

Yeah, sorry about the flash.

Sadly none of us had room for dessert. I washed my food down with rice punch which wasn’t as milky as the slightly acidic version served at Asadal back home in London. It was moderately milky and slightly sweet with an odd quasi-nuttiness that was mildly reminiscent of barley tea.

Oddly reminiscent of horchata too.

The Verdict

There’s some good quality meat available at Kimchi Princess, but the bold flavours of some of the dishes had been heavily toned down and there’s so little octopus in the beef and octopus barbecue that the advertising authorities should be called in. Overall it’s a hearty but merely satisfactory feed and I’d be very surprised if there weren’t better Korean restaurants in Berlin. If you’re only in Berlin for a short period, then Kimchi Princess isn’t really worth your time unless you’re completely beyond help like Chip Butty.

Name: Kimchi Princess

Address: Skalitzer Strasse 36 / Manteuffelstrasse, Kreuzberg, 10999 Berlin, Germany

Phone: 0049 163 458 0203 or 0049 30 488 12460

Web: http://www.kimchiprincess.com/kimchi.html

Opening Hours: seven days a week 18.00-23.00.

Reservations: probably a good idea

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between four people: €30 (£25 approx. at time of writing).

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Berlin has no shortage of restaurants serving up food from outside the German-speaking world as well as contemporary German cuisine, but sometimes you just need the traditional, old-fashioned lashings of pork that the Germans are famous for. Renger-Patzsch serves up Alsatian food, a cuisine from a region that’s now part of France but has strong Germanic influences.

The interior of Renger-Patzsch is a brightly-lit, somewhat spartan place with, somewhat amusingly, a Geordie behind the bar. If the weather is warm enough to sit outside though, it’s well worth doing – the restaurant is located on a quiet, leafy residential street not too far south of the Tiergarten.

Renger-Patzsch’s menu does make some allowances for the seasons, but some dishes seem to be available year round. My dining companion for the evening, Templeton Peck, started off with an appetiser of black pudding paired with bacon and lentils. The thick slices of pudding were more meaty than fatty and were complimented well by the sweetness of the lentils. The addition of bacon is usually a cheap and easy way of adding flavour to a dull dish using fat and salt, but that wasn’t the case here. The strips of bacon weren’t too crispy or excessively salty and added a layer of firm meatiness that contrasted nicely with the softer texture of the black pudding.

Sitting outside in the dark did mean I had to use the flash on my camera – the food is nowhere near as greasy as my flash makes it look.

Pike-perch (also called zander) is a fish apparently unrelated to either pike or perch. It’s apparently a common staple in central and eastern European cuisines and here it’d been grilled until the skin had turned crispy. The firm yet light flesh had a gently salty, earthy taste to it that’s very pleasing. The accompanying potato salad is good enough with tender chunks of potato and bitter leaves in a fennel-tinged dressing.

Zany zander!

Our main courses were all about red meat. Templeton Peck had a massive plate of Alsatian sauerkraut with pork shoulder, pork knuckle, salt pork and smoked sausage. The sauerkraut had clearly been infused with meat at some point, perhaps some pork fat, which added an extra tang to the tart preserved vegetables. The standouts here were the tender, slightly smoky pork knuckle, which appeared to have been steamed, and the smoky and salty yet sweet sausage.

Pork, pork and more pork.

Rivalling Templeton’s pork plate for heartiness was my own main course of ox cheeks. They were extremely tender – they were almost too soft and I would have preferred a touch more firmness to them but that’s quibbling. Their meatiness was enhanced by the dark, tangy, mildly viscous sauce. The sweet, salty tanginess of the stewed prunes wrapped in bacon complimented the cheeks surprisingly well. If that wasn’t enough heartiness for you, there’s a big dollop of mashed potato too.

Show the other cheek.

Although Templeton Peck was cradling his belly and groaning gently to himself, I persuaded him to share a massive apple, cinnamon and calvados tarte flambée with me. The baked dough base was remarkably thin and crispy, almost resembling a Jacobs’ cream cracker in places. Templeton and I were rather unsure about it, but the tender and sweet slices of apple had just the right amount of bite and were liberally dusted with cinnamon. The usually bold and unmistakable taste of calvados was surprisingly muted though. Perhaps they saw me coming.

Flamboyant tart. No wait, I got that wrong.

The Verdict

The simple fare at Renger-Patzsch is a bit heavy, but it’s filling, tasty and thoroughly hearty. It won’t sit well with everyone, especially if you’re visiting Berlin during the hotter months, but if you’re in need of a filling feed then it’s very satisfying stuff.

Name: Renger-Patzsch

Address: Wartburgstraße 54, 10823 Berlin, Germany

Phone: 00 49 30 784 2059

Web: http://www.renger-patzsch.com/en/

Opening Hours: seven days a week 18.00-23.30.

Reservations: highly recommended

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two people: €40-45 (£36 approx. at time of writing).

Rating: ★★★★☆

Chain restaurants have a poor reputation in the UK for limp, poor-quality food and soulless atmospheres. Most dedicated London restaurant lovers try to avoid chain outlets whenever possible, although there are a few that are worth seeking out. Different rules apply in Taiwan though – not only are chains respected and sought after dining destinations, independent restaurants often aspire to become chains themselves.

Shin Yeh is a small chain of Taiwanese restaurants and I paid a dinnertime visit to the original branch in Taipei’s Zhongshan district. The rather soulless corporate decor won’t win any awards, but the friendly and attentive English-speaking service can’t be faulted. The menu is rather lengthy, but it does have photos and English descriptions.

I started off with a whole single abalone braised in oyster sauce. The plump mollusc is firm and meaty, but it wasn’t quite as rich as I was expecting and it’s the tangy taste of the oyster sauce that’s dominate here.

Abalone is really rather expensive.

I’m a big fan of pork intestines and here they’ve been boiled in a soya sauce that gives the soft and wrinkly bits of offal a gentle sweetness that’s very pleasing. The offal goes very well with the tart sauerkraut-like preserved vegetables.

This little piggy went to bed. And never woke up.

Chicken testicles features on the menu quite frequently and are available either on their own or with various other bits of animal. Although I was more than willing to try them, my enthusiasm was tempered by the possibility that I might find them gut wrenchingly revolting. I therefore hedged my bets by ordering a half portion of wok seared chicken testicles served alongside pork kidneys with ginger and dressed in sesame oil. The kidneys had absorbed most of the strong, almost booze-like flavours of the sauce.

The testicles themselves had a thin, taut membrane-like exterior that gave way to a liquid interior that occasionally had a semi-firm, jelly-like texture to it. It’s weirder than a bag full of manatee-riding badgers and is mildly unpleasant to say the least.

Balls deep.

Simple and less interesting, but more pleasing, was the crisp and fresh seasonal greens topped with shallots.

It is… green.

I don’t often eat fried rice since the stuff is little more than kitty litter masquerading as peasant fodder. Shin Yeh’s mullet roe fried rice did little to change my opinion. Apart from an occasional hit of salty oiliness, it’s not that different from any other fried rice.

Hmmmm, no.

All of the desserts were tempting, but I eventually plumped for a bowl of warm, strongly flavoured almond milk. The deep fried dough stick supplied for dunking wasn’t very good though – the hard, oily pastry was almost indigestible.

Is this the milk of human kindness?

Hit me with your dough stick.

I wasn’t expecting petit fours in a Taiwanese restaurant, although I doubt they’re actually called that locally. Soft, fluffy, slightly chewy mochi covered in a fine dusting of strongly flavoured peanut. Nice.

Not quite as dry as it looks.

The Verdict

If I get the chance to return to Taipei then I’ll definitely try and find the time to return to Shin Yeh. It’s pricy by Taiwanese standards, especially if you order any abalone, and the large menu could be winnowed down although I doubt that will happen any time soon. I’d give the chicken testicles a wide berth though.

Name: Shin Yeh

Branch tried: No. 34-1, Shuangcheng Street, Zhongshan District, Taipei City

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2596 3255

Web: http://www.shinyeh.com.tw/English_web/about.php

Opening Hours: seven days a week 11.00-midnight.

Reservations: probably a good idea

Total cost for one person including soft drinks but excluding tips: NT$2261 (approx. £48 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Hakkasan was one of the restaurants that helped foster the idea that Chinese food in London wasn’t just greasy take away fare. HKK is a new City spin-off of the Soho original, but with an emphasis on expensive tasting menus that befits its location in the shadow of capitalism’s gleaming towers.

If you’re expecting the handsome dark woods and aromatic scents of Alan Yau’s other restaurants, then HKK’s surprisingly plain, understated decor will be a disappointment. The generally generic grey glossy gleam is designed to avoid offending the homogenous, monochrome, easily startled suits that prowl the nearby streets. The only real hint of character is the usual flower bulb-shaped ceiling fixtures in the centre of the room.

Quickly! Don’t offend the rich people and their delicate eyes!

I don’t know, is this too much? Have we gone too far? Gosh, I just don’t know.

If there’s one odd thing about HKK, it’s the staff. Although exceedingly polite and attentive, they’re also very timid and softly spoken – so much so that it was often a struggle to hear our waitress, while other staff seemed positively terrified of our very presence. The proximity of the reception to the toilets, and the receptionists’ insistence on opening the door for me, made me feel as if my urinary habits were under inspection. I really shouldn’t have had that vat of coffee before eating. Still, the regular supply of refreshing hot towels was very welcome – all restaurants should have hot towels.

Although a shorter and cheaper tasting menu is available for lunch, for dinner only the full 15 course smorgasbord is available. The Euro Hedgie and I are irredeemable carnivores, but the kitchen does make alternatives where necessary for vegetarians and pescatarians, such as Hedgie’s friend Bambi.

The amuse bouche was an odd little thing of pickled root vegetables and enoki mushrooms wrapped in iberico ham and dressed with sriracha sauce. It could’ve been a potentially interesting fusion of Spanish and Chinese textures and flavours, but the predominant flavour here was the saltiness of the ham.

Getting back to one’s roots.

The pescatarian alternative was a mixture of pine nuts and what I think were beans dressed in a Sriracha sauce and served in an odd little pastry cup apparently made with dried anchovies. The pine nuts went surprisingly well with the Sriracha sauce.

Bambi nommed one before I managed to snap a picture.

Drunken chicken, where the meat is marinated in rice wine, and jelly fish is a very popular and traditional Chinese dish and HKK’s version doesn’t take many liberties with the original apart from the smaller, tasting menu-sized portion. The chicken is less fatty and has a cleaner aftertaste than is traditional, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I do wonder what would’ve been the result if the kitchen had been a little more adventurous, perhaps trying to marry drunken chicken and chicken confit. But then, such potentially horrific thought experiments are probably best left outside the kitchen.

Go home chicken, you’re drunk.

The vegetarian alternative was a lotus root, cloud ear fungus and lily bulb salad. The novelty of the crisp lotus root and the slippery fungus alone were good enough for Bambi who had never tried them before.

Floating on a cloud ear fungus.

A full Beijing duck feast is an epic tasting menu in of itself and HKK will apparently have its own five course version of this feast in due course. I had to be content with a miniature version which, sadly, wasn’t carved at the table but behind us instead. A thin sliver of crisp skin had its dark, roasted sweetness emphasised by the trail of brown dipping sugar. This was followed by a small chunk of meat topped with a fattier layer of skin, best eaten with the sweet, mildly garlicky bean sauce which emphasised its savoury fattiness. Finally there was the duck and cucumber filled pancake which was a relatively refreshing yet still meaty finish to this surprisingly traditional feast in microcosm.

What happens to the rest of the duck?

The vegetarian alternative was a much more innovative pairing of truffles and thin strips of rehydrated waxy tofu with rice pancakes and cucumbers. Bambi seemed unsure of the whole thing, but I almost wish I could’ve traded my duck, delicious as it was, for the veggie imitation.

No ducks were harmed in the making of this dish.

The kitchen may not have tried creating a drunken confit chicken, but it did create a goji berry, confit chicken and dried scallop soup. This soup greatly resembled the traditional ‘medicinal’ broths served seasonally by Chinese housewives to their families. Despite the use of confit chicken, the clear, meaty, slightly sweet broth was considerably less oily with a cleaner aftertaste than a more homespun version. The Hedgie suspects this was due to the kitchen pressure cooking the soup rather than simply boiling it as well as the use of French poulet de bresse chicken meat. The use of what I suspect were heated rather than dried and rehydrated goji berries meant their taste was surprisingly muted though.

The dried scallops and goji berries are oddly served on the side.

The vegetarian alternative of goji berry and hawtorn soup was the most bizarre dish of the evening. The sweetness of this thickened soup almost resembled a tomato or minestrone soup and Bambi was completely put off by it. The waitress kindly offered to find a replacement dish for Bambi, but it wasn’t necessarily bad, just unexpectedly and very oddly unsophisticated.

Bambi no like.

Hakkasan is well known for its Dim Sum, so I looked forward to HKK’s Dim Sum Trilogy course with a high degree of anticipation. The rice flour skin of the steamed prawn and truffle dumping had an exemplary level of viscosity despite its thinness, but the truffle taste was surprisingly muted. I was also unimpressed with the chicken, prawn and Szechuan pepper dumpling which barely had any taste of Szechuan pepper at all and the dumpling skin was oddly thick and stodgy (the pescatarian version lacked the chicken). The one unqualified success here was the crisp yet unoily fried turnip roll – the gently sweated shreds of vegetable inside were soft, moist and slightly sweet.

Don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like Dim Sum.

A very traditional stir fry of gailan, lily bulbs, mushrooms and dried shrimp in XO sauce was considerably less oily than the lesser, inferior stir fries served elsewhere. The crisp greens, tender bulbs, silky mushrooms, salty prawns and musky sauce came together beautifully.

XO sauce – Hong Kong’s great gift to the world after action films.

One of the highlights of the evening for me was the lobster claw. It’s difficult to describe its beautiful texture without sounding like more of a raging ponce than I already am, but the kitchen somehow managed to make the crustacean claw both tender and slightly crisp at the same time and this combination was nothing short of extraordinary. The bed of mildly nutty yellow bean sauce and the unremarkable flat-sided egg noodles were anticlimactic though.

The texture of the lobster was truly sublime.

I’m always slightly perplexed by the odd insertion of a sweet course in between savoury courses that’s increasingly common on fine dining menus, but at least this one tasted good. Here, a very sweet herbal jelly was paired with a crisp yet quiveringly soft, nutty and slightly sweet water chestnut cake. I could eat several large chunks of the cake alone which was a remarkable combination of taste and texture. The sweet, crisp apple leaf successfully captured the taste and texture of that fruit and proved to be a unifying element in this odd, but very accomplished dish.

Interval.

The savoury courses resumed with a monkfish fillet that was golden and slightly crisp on the outside with a quiveringly pink, just-cooked inside. The use of the poor man’s lobster made this fishball-like dish especially tasty – the use of soft, small grained rice in a slightly sour and tangy rice wine broth made it even better.

Other restaurants can only pray that they’ll cook monkfish this good.

Hotpots are an under appreciated part of Chinese cuisine, but HKK’s kitchen hasn’t forgotten about them. Although the alleged pumpkin flavour of the tofu was muted at best and the addition of bonito flakes added little, the fluffy, airy texture was delightful and was complimented nicely by the sharp, fruity sauce.

The smallest Chinese hotpot in the world.

A slice of the action.

Wagyu beef might be so overused in fine dining menus that it’s now cliched, but the meaty chunks here were very tender and pulled off in delicate strands. Their meatiness was enhanced by the earthy, musky, sweet sauce which I enjoyed greatly, although the Hedgie found it a little too strong for his taste. We both agreed that the addition of water chestnuts added little though and the water chestnut crisp was just plain odd as well as generic tasting – it could easily have been a parsnip crisp.

See here, le boeuf.

The vegetarian alternative was a soya-based imitation duck, although its meatiness was more reminiscient of clams than duck in a way.

Quack?

The final savoury dish of razor clams wasn’t bad, but it left me non-plussed. The small bitty slices of clam were a little too soft for my liking, but the mild chilli vermicelli topping was pleasing enough. The addition of sticky rice was odd though and stuck out like a sore thumb.

Unusual bedfellows.

The Euro Hedgie generally hates Asian desserts, but even he seemed pleased with the first dessert of lychee tapioca with passion fruit jam drizzled in – the two fruity flavours meshed together very well. The highlight element was clearly the passion fruit flavoured cream though – the exceedingly light, wispy cream nonetheless tasted strongly of passion fruit.

Not your grandmother’s whipped cream. Unless your grandmother was a Cordon Bleu trained chef.

Since this dessert uses beef-based gelatine, the vegetarian version substitutes the passion fruit flavoured cream with a passion fruit flavoured ice cream. The overall effect is pretty similar, but it’s not quite as interesting in terms of texture.

Once more, but with passion!

The vanilla ice cream was an uninspiring blob of white, but it was thankfully paired with a small slice of sweet, sharp pomelo and a delightfully constructed pineapple fritter. Thin, crisp, deep fried strands of pastry, thankfully unoily, gave way to a soft, chunky fruit center. Satisfying.

Frittering my life away.

I think it’s slightly cheeky to count petit fours as a course, but at least the ones here are distinctive. The one that seared its mark on my brain had to be the durian petit fours. You either love or hate durian and I love it. The durian petit fours captured the distinctive creaminess of that fruit as well as replicated the soft, tender, slightly viscous skin that encases the fruit. A spectacular finish.

When they said petit fours, they really did mean four.

I’ve always like dimples.

HKK also has a bar where you can cool your heels while waiting for errant members of your party or for picking up a cheeky drink for the road. The Euro Hedgie was unimpressed with the French Quarter, a cognac-based cocktail that’s easy drinking thanks to its light, grape-like flavour, but this also makes it rather unremarkable for him. He was more pleased with the Hakka, a trademark fusion of lychee, passion fruit and coconut imported from Hakkasan.

The Euro Hedgie loves a cocktail or three.

You purty!

The drinks menu literally only has two non-alcoholic options. One of them, the oddly-named Washed Potatoes, is an unremarkable concoction that tastes mostly of lime and lychee. Not bad, but overpriced for what it is.

Sack of potatoes.

The Verdict

HKK may have opened at around the same time as Bo London, but the two couldn’t be more different. While both are Chinese fine dining restaurants, Bo is much more modernist than HKK which turned out to be surprisingly traditional with relatively few innovative flourishes. HKK’s understated style proved to be far more successful than the hit and miss Bo, but even so only a handful of dishes really captured my imagination and those familiar with traditional Chinese cuisine may feel that some of the dishes are overpriced versions of familiar, homespun classics.

Still, HKK is the place to go if you want refined, classy Chinese cuisine for that special occasion.

Name: HKK

Address: Broadgate West, 88 Worship Street, London EC2A 2BE

Phone: 020 3535 1888 (Triple eight? How superstitious of them.)

Web: http://www.hkklondon.com

Opening Hours: Monday-Friday, noon-14.00 and 18.00-21.00. Saturday 18.00-21.00.

Reservations: essential. Credit card details taken for all reservations. Fee for cancellations less than 24 hours in advance – £40 lunch, £80 dinner. 

Total cost for one person including drinks: £130 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Danzi noodles is a dish native to Taiwan and one of the supposedly best places to try it in Taipei is Tu Hsiao Yueh. This small restaurant is located on a small side street not far from the main drag of Zhongxiao East Road. The restaurant is spread over two levels, but most of the seating is located on the mezzanine floor with the charcoal-fired cooking pots dominating the ground floor. The place has an inn-type feel with dark wooden floors and tables as well as sleek modern lamps, but the effect is spoilt by the exposed ventilation ducts in the ceiling.

The menu does have English descriptions as well as photos. To order, simply tick what you want on the supplied carbon copy form and hand it to your waiter. It’s just as well that this system is in place as the staff aren’t terribly friendly or efficient – the chef behind the ground floor cooking pots was more attentive and frequently had to berate the waiting staff into seating me, clearing my table and bringing me my bill.

I ordered the headline danzi noodles in soup, but was mistakenly brought the dry version without soup. Undeterred, I dived in regardless. Unfortunately, I fail to see what all the fuss is about. The noodles were slightly springy, but they were otherwise unremarkable. I’m not sure why there’s just one lone, solitary but fresh prawn sitting on top of it all. Thankfully the minced pork topping was more interesting with a certain tanginess and a starchy flavour that reminded me of taro.

What’s all the fuss about?

The smoked slices of goose meat tasted like bland duck with a very subtle hint of smokiness at best. The addition of orange slices made it resemble a particularly odd version of duck a l’orange.

Mother Goose.

My other smoked meat of the evening was shark. The slices of fish had a coarse, slightly bitty texture somewhat reminiscent of tuna, occasionally interspersed with bits of fat. Although surprisingly meaty, the shark slices also tasted bland despite the addition of an oddly limp brown sauce. Things were only livened up with the addition of a second wasabi-based sauce.

Bruce, is that you?

I wasn’t expecting to find prawn dumplings on the menu. The rice flour skins were thick but oddly fragile, easily falling apart to reveal the fresh, chunky prawn filling. The dumplings were also topped with a mildly spicy sauce and a mildly tangy pork and taro topping similar to the one on the danzi noodles.

That’s a big ass dumpling.

Given the ridiculously humid weather in Taipei, the only dessert of choice that makes sense is ice cream. The pumpkin ice cream here does that boldly sweet and creamy flavour of pumpkin, but the huge ice crystals give the dish an unpleasant icy crispness rather than the cold smoothness I was expecting.

Ice queen.

One surprise was the plum juice which had a bizarrely smoky flavour that was very odd. It’s pleasant but not especially refreshing – I was thankful for the free refills of tea.

Smoky.

The Verdict

I was roundly unimpressed with my meal at Tu Hsiao Yueh. None of it was inedibly bad, but none of it was especially remarkable either. Combined with the unhelpful staff, I can’t see a reason to come back the next time I’m Taipei – especially with a branch of Din Tai Fung within spitting distance.

Name: Tu Hsiao Yueh

Branch tried: 12 Alley 8, Lane 216, Zhongxiao East Road Section 4, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2773 1244

Web: http://www.iddi.com.tw (minimal English text)

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday 11.30-23.00 and Sunday 11.30-21.30.

Reservations: yeah if you want.

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and 10% service charge: NT$700 (approx. £15 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

Most Western tourists visiting Taiwan will probably never visit the city of Taichung in the western half of the island. Even if they do then it’s likely that they’ll be passing through on their way to one of Taiwan’s more scenic pleasures. I found myself in Taichung for a day before setting off on a brief tour of the southern half of Taiwan and found myself in need of a hearty dinner. I eventually settled on the oddly named Taiwan New Paradise Banana if only because of its eclectic decor. The interior has been made up to look like a street with elements of both the Japanese colonial era and the post war period, while a vintage train carriage sits outside and makes the place unmistakable and hard to miss. It’s apparently officially recognised as a local museum, but it’s of questionable educational/informative value given the lack of any information or context. It’s more like a kitsch theme park than a museum.

Yes, you’re indoors.

All aboard!

Well, that was educational.

Although the extensive menu is available in English, the staff don’t speak much of it. They are friendly enough but not terribly efficient. Payment is taken at the till near the front door though – I spent several fruitless minutes waving my credit card at the oblivious waiters, before being told about the till by a fellow customer. My frustration was compounded further by the fact that credit cards aren’t accepted. Unimpressive customer service to say the least.

So you’re just going to leave those dirty dishes on that table for half an hour? OK, sure.

Sea cucumbers aren’t vegetables but marine invertebrates. It might trip up the unknowing vegetarian in a hurry, but probably not here where it’s served with pork tendons and squid. Despite the very different types of meat, the three all taste very bland and have a uniformly soft, uninteresting texture. If it wasn’t for the crisp green beans, it would be easy to mistake this dish for a plate of baby food.

Taiwan New Paradise Banana?! What’s that supposed to even mean?

Although billed as a salty dish, the Hakka-style pork is mildly sweet rather than salty. The fatty slices of pork appear to have been cooked in a sweet soy sauce and are pleasing enough if not especially remarkable.

Why aren’t there bananas in any of these dishes?

Another dish which didn’t quite live up to its billing was the large bowl of Hunan-style fried tofu. Hunanese food is renowed for its spiciness, but this dish had clearly been toned down as the black bean-dominated sauce was not spicy in the slightest. The tofu may have allegedly been fried, but it’s hard to tell from its soft, squidgy texture which isn’t bad in its own right but isn’t really any different from a million other tofu dishes I’ve had before.

Hunan-style. The less successful follow-up to Gangnam style.

I couldn’t resist ordering the simply but evocatively named lard rice. The relatively large grains of rice were clumped together and were a little more viscous than normal, but it’s not nearly as lusciously decadent as the ‘lard’ name would suggest.

Surely lard rice should be more sumptuous than this?

The dessert menu was in many ways more interesting than the main savoury menu. I eventually decided on the steamed green tea cake. The soft sponge cupcakes had a pleasingly fluffy texture, but only tasted mildly of green tea.

Fluffy-kins.

I washed it all down with a tall glass of cool and creamy yet refreshing coconut-flavoured iced tea.

Taiwan knows how to do interesting non-alcoholic drinks.

The Verdict

Taiwan New Paradise Banana may have eye-catching decor, both externally and internally, but the food is, at best, merely satisfactory, and an embarrassment at worst. I should’ve gone to Taichung’s night market or the local branch of Din Tai Fung instead.

Name: Taiwan New Paradise Banana

Branch tried: No. 111 Shuangshi Road Section 2, Taichung, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (4) 2231 7890

Web: http://www.vernaldew.com.tw (traditional Chinese only)

Opening Hours: seven days a week 11.00-02.00.

Reservations: yeah if you want

Total cost for one person including soft drinks: NT$800 (approx. £17 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

The Black Heart pub in Camden clearly likes hosting pop-up restaurants and has a thing for burgers too if its choices so far are anything to go by. First there was Mother Flipper, now it’s Kimchi Cult’s turn. Like Mother Flipper, Kimchi Cult is a stand that makes appearances at London’s various street markets and other venues. Unlike Mother Flipper, Kimchi Cult’s burgers have a distinct Korean influence.

The headline kimchi burger is a case in point. The smoothly ground patty cooked medium/medium rare-ish is surprisingly flat in shape, but it’s moist and mildly tangy. This is complimented well by the firm, zesty and tingly, if not especially spicy kimchi. The tang of the beef and the kimchi go together very well indeed and the soft, floury bun holds everything surprisingly well while remaining in the background, staying out of the way.

Cabbage doesn’t have to suck.

Dalk galbi is a popular Korean stir-fried chicken dish and here it’s been turned into a burger. It doesn’t use some bargain basement patty made of reconstituted mince, but a whole, moist chicken fillet instead. The moist meat has been marinated with a musky, earthy, gently spicy, bean-like paste. This, along with the mayonnaise, produced a very satisfying combination. The crisp, gently toasted bun couldn’t quite contain it all though, with some leakage of the mayo-paste mixture dribbling out.

If all chicken burgers tasted like this then I’d have them more often.

One of the vegetarian options some times available is the arancini burger. Arancini is an Italian dish of crisp yet soft deep-fried rice balls, but Kimchi Cult’s burger doesn’t quite live up to arancini’s potential as a beef-substitute. The patty, while sweet and starchy with visible grains of rice, was also a little too chewy with none of the crisp fluffiness I’d normally associate with arancini. The ginger coleslaw topping was forgettable, but the kimchi hot sauce was tangy, tingly and surprisingly hotter than the kimchi by itself although it inevitably dribbled out of the soft, floury bun.

It’s a bunga bunga party!

Bulgogi beef is a classic Korean dish and here it’s been used as a topping for fries. Although thin and tender, the lipsmackingly moreish flavour I’d normally associate with bulgogi was absent here with sesame seed oil and rice wine the predominant flavours. Still, it’s far more interesting than just plain ol’ salty fries.

In Glasgow this would be 1/4 of a Munchy Box.

The soft, salty fries are also available topped with kimchi and cheese. This sounds like an unholy combination, but the cheese stays out of the way and lets the tart, tingly sourness of the kimchi dominate this side dish. Although it’s not especially spicy, it’s still very satisfying kimchi and makes the fries much more interesting as a result.

Kimchi makes everything taste better.

A meat-only side dish is the chicken wings, twice-fried and coated in a spicy sauce. The coating has a firm bite, but the heat of the sauce is muted. It does have a gentle earthiness, but it’s almost too subtle for its own good. A rather disappointing dish, but at least the accompanying pickled radish is a good palate cleanser.

Patty and Bun really has ruined me for all chicken wings other than their own.

The Verdict

Kimchi Cult’s food may not be spot-on perfect, but it’s still tasty, fun and inexpensive too. Plus, for many, it could act as a gateway drug to more traditional Korean food and that can only be a good thing. Kimchi Cult will be at The Black Heart until Saturday the 15th Feburary and makes regular appearances at various markets.

Name: Kimchi Cult

Address: various London markets

and until 15th Feburary The Black Heart, 2-3 Greenland Place, London NW1 0AP 

Phone: none listed

Web: http://www.kimchicult.com

Opening Hours: Black Heart pop-up – Wednesdays and Thursdays 17.00-22.00. Fridays and Saturdays noon-22.00.

Reservations: yeah if you want

Average cost for one person including soft drinks: £10-15 approx.

Rating: ★★★★☆

Taipei is an almost effortlessly modern metropolis and that’s reflected in many of its restaurants which are sleek, modern, air-conditioned places. If you fancy a break from this unbridled modernity then it’s worth seeking out Taipei Shin Gu Shiang. The small entrance, festooned with wooden bric-a-brac, is easy to miss and getting to its little corner of the city can be a trek until the nearby Daan Park MRT station is completed later this year.

It’s worth doing though, if only for the thoroughly old school atmosphere. The brick and wood panelled walls of the handsome dining room are decorated with Taiwanese movie posters of yesteryear while Mandopop and a small fountain tinkle away in the background. There’s no air conditioning though with the only cooling provided by some ceiling-mounted fans. Still, if Templeton Peck and I can put up with the heat then you certainly can too.

Atmospheric. If only because there’s no air con.

The restaurant is run by a middle-aged bloke and his missus who, in contrast to the effervescent hospitality so abundant elsewhere in Taiwan, are charmingly grumpy yet efficient. I warmed to them because of their slightly brusque, uninterested demeanour, not in spite of it, since it reminded me of home (I’m not being sarcastic here, I mean it).

There’s no menu at Taipei Shin Gu Shiang – cough up NT$200 and you get a selection of the day’s dishes brought to your table. There’s an unlimited supply of water, tea, rice and soup at the buffet bar. The tea is nothing to write home about, but the steamed rice drizzled in pork oil (liquid lard if you will) was very moreish. The medium-sized grains of rice clump together under a drizzling of oily meatiness. The clear, tangy chicken vermicelli soup hits the spot too.

Pork oil rice. Sounds wrong, tastes great.

Chicken noodle soup for grown ups.

The slices of pork stir fried in a spring onion and tomato sauce was rather forgettable and unsatisfying.

I should’ve moved that spoon before taking this photo.

More successful was the fish simply grilled and flavoured with shallots and spring onions. Although the fish, which I’m pretty sure was pomfret, wasn’t especially meaty what flesh there was tasted milky and was tender too.

Don’t fret, eat more pomfret.

The mildly bitter greens stir fried with a bit of ginger was a refreshing companion to the heavier pork and fish.

Green and bitter. Like a love jilted Hulk.

The Verdict

Taipei Shin Gu Shiang is a cheap and filling experience, but the the place is more about the charmingly ramshackle atmosphere than the food which, while satisfactory, was a little too simple to be especially remarkable.

Name: Taipei Shin Gu Shiang 

Address: 37 Xinyi Road Sec 3, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2754 0023

Web: none

Opening Hours: seven days a week 18.00-midnight.

Reservations: not taken

Total cost for one person including soft drinks when shared between two people: NT$230 (approx. £5 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Taipei is full of interesting places to eat, but when you’re stumbling around the city’s confusingly named streets while basting yourself in your own sweat then you sometimes need to settle on whatever is closest to your hotel. Templeton Peck, Chip Butty and I were in need of somewhere to entertain our associate Private Pyle and his jet lagged sidekick, so we settled on a Sichuanese restaurant called Kiki.

We turned up at random on a weekday evening to find the dimly lit minimalist two-floor dining space filled to the rafters, but were able to snag a table after only 10 minutes of waiting. Reservations would be a good idea in future. The staff don’t speak much English, but the rather long menu is available in English.

Well, at least the lighting is good.

Although there was five of us, in the end Templeton Peck and I did most of the eating. Chip Butty was true to form and refused to touch any of the interesting dishes that the two of us had chosen. She did eat a textureless mush of beef that had been boiled to death and then entombed in a coffin of ginger. It was quite easily the worst food to pass through my mouth during my entire time in Taipei.

Baby food.

Private Pyle and his jet lagged assistant were also incredibly unadventurous and stuck to sharing a bland plate of chicken. Although the poultry had allegedly been cooked with Sichuanese pepper, the numbing heat normally associated with that spice was completely missing here. The uncanny ability of parochial Karl Pilkington-types to find dramatically tasteless dishes from a menu full of possibilities is nothing if not impressive.

Private Pyle would clearly rather have had a chicken burger instead. With an extra dollop of blandness just in case any taste had crept in.

I’m used to eating chicken feet as they’re served steamed in black bean sauce in Dim Sum restaurants. Here they were covered in batter and deep-fried. The dry, garlicky heat wasn’t very strong but was oddly reminiscent of Jamaican jerk chicken or Indian pork coorgi. Not bad, but a rather tame and sedate dish.

In the heat of the night.

Chinese sausage and barbecued pork are more commonly associated with Cantonese food rather than Sichuanese food. It initially seemed unnecessary to have two types of pork side-by-side in the same dish, but this turned out to be a genius idea. The smoky, fatty pancetta-like chunks of pork were complimented well by the fatty but sweeter slices of sausage.

Pig x2.

Given the childish squeamishness of everyone else at the table Templeton Peck and I had to divide up the large pot of congealed duck’s blood and tripe between ourselves. The smooth, taut and dimpled tripe tasted just as one would expect, while the chunks of duck’s blood tasted mildly tangy with a smooth surface and a squidgy texture similar to tofu. Both the tripe and blood were served in a moderately spicy broth which barely had any Sichuanese pepper in it.

Blood letting.

You can’t go far in Taipei without catching a whiff of stinky tofu, a local specialty. ‘Stinky’ hardly does the stuff justice – the odor of Kiki’s version of this dish is incredibly pungent and reminded me of elephant dung. Templeton Peck barely managed a few mouthfuls before backing away slowly from the bubbling cauldron. If you can get past the putrid smell then you’ll be rewarded with solid, milky chunks of tofu that pack a powerful spicy kick that will numb the tongue and give you a case of the sweats in short order. Kiki’s stinky tofu is a dish worth having at least once, if only to say that you’ve had it, but I don’t think I could bring myself to have it again – purely because of the smell.

If the internet had smell-o-vision, you’d be running away right about now.

Bitter melon served with salty bits of egg sounds unpleasant, but this dish is not only tasty in its own right. It’s also surprisingly refreshing when eaten after a mouthful of one of the more spicy dishes.

Bitterness and saltiness in one dish.

Templeton Peck’s poison of choice was the imaginatively-named ‘Taiwan Beer’. He wasn’t terribly impressed with this light wheat beer though – it was flat without much bite, although at least it wasn’t too harsh on the palate.

The marketing department was clearly having an off-day when naming this particular product.

Since I don’t drink I settled on the honey and egg juice which wasn’t nearly as interesting as its intriguing name would suggest. The smooth, mildly thick liquid tasted mostly of honey.

Egg on my face.

The Verdict

Putting aside the special case of the stinky tofu, the food at Kiki was a little disappointing. Although some of the dishes we had were tasty, most of them were underwhelming in terms of spiciness which is a let down for what is supposed to be a Sichuanese restaurant. This could be down to us inadvertently choosing the duff dishes, but finding the good ones could be a struggle given the length of the menu (which appears to be the norm rather than the exception in Taipei). Kiki isn’t awful, but I’d be surprised if it was the best Sichuanese restaurant in Taipei.

Name: Kiki

Branch tried: No. 28, Fuxing South Road Sec 1, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2752 2781

Web: http://www.kiki1991.com/ (in traditional Chinese only)

Opening Hours: Monday-Saturday 11.50-15.00 and 17.15-23.00. Sunday 11.50-15.00 and 17.15-22.00.

Reservations: highly recommended

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between five people: NT$494 (approx. £11 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Taipei is a pretty cheap place to eat out, at least by Western standards, with many of my meals costing around £10 or less. One of the more expensive meals that Templeton Peck and I had was at Tian Xiang Huwei, a restaurant that apparently serves Mongolian hot pot. The authenticity of the Mongolness here is suspect, especially as hot pot is widespread throughout many South East Asian cuisines. The restaurant’s garish getup and the folksy costumes worn by the staff don’t inspire confidence.

Clearly modelled on the interior of Genghis Khan’s tent.

Finding Tian Xiang can be a little tricky, especially as it’s located on the second floor of its building and the signage is in Chinese only – look for the restaurant’s distinctive red and green logo. The staff don’t speak much English, but they are friendly and the menu has photos and basic English descriptions.

Look for the sign.

With Asian-style hot pots you order a bubbling cauldron of boiling flavoured broth and several plates of raw ingredients. You then dip the food into the broth to cook it before eating it. The broth can usually be consumed as well. Here the cauldron is split into two so you can have two different types of broth.

The translation of the broth section in the menu made no sense whatsoever so I just pointed at the two most expensive ones. The result was a spicy, peppery red broth on one side and a surprisingly fruity, herby broth (described as ‘medicinal’ on the menu) on the other.  The bold flavours of both were easily soaked up by our chosen noms.

Putting the hot in hot pot.

Take six times times an hour with meals. Do not drive or use complex machinery at the same time.

Surprisingly, we hadn’t over ordered.

The king prawns were fresh, large and plump making it difficult to wait for them to cool down after they’d emerged from the broth so one could tear off the shells.

Fifty Shades of Grey, raw.

All hail the kings.

Fresh bitter greens provided one of our five a day. The other came in the unexpected form of sweet potato which, as a South American vegetable, suggests that our hot pot wasn’t quite as authentically Mongolian as we would have hoped but it was satisfyingly tasty dunked in either broth.

Sweet potatoes grow in the wild as neat square blocks. Fact.

The slices of fatty beef went down a treat and tasted best when dunked in the spicy, peppery broth. Just as good were the slices of goose heart which, despite their thinness, were surprisingly dense and hearty (pun intended). I forget which animal contributed their intestines to our meal, but if you’re a fan of offal then you’ll enjoy these wrinkly, slightly chewy pieces.

Beefing up.

Pouring my heart out.

Mushrooms to intestines – ‘I hate your guts’.

Exccccellent.

The enoki mushrooms were firm yet slippery and were best enjoyed in the medicinal broth – they lost some of their gentle earthiness when dunked in the spicy broth.

The highlight of our meal were the Mongolian dumplings. The thick, doughy, slightly chewy skins held a small amount of moreish soup and either a hearty meatball or fishball at its centre – they’re superficially similar to the xiaolongbao at Din Tai Fung. Care is required when eating them – a squirt of hot soup hit Templeton Peck in the eye when he accidentally pierced a dumpling skin (much to the amusement of the onlooking waiters).

Out to conquer the known world? Best have some of these before you go.

Hint: don’t get any in your eye.

We didn’t order dessert, but we got some anyway in the form of grass jelly – sweet, mildly herby cubes of jelly served in a thin, mildly sweet syrup. Not bad at all, although it’s something of an acquired taste.

Free dessert? Bonus.

The Verdict

The Mongolian hot pot at Tian Xiang may not be very Mongolian, but it is simple, tasty and very satisfying. If you’re in Taipei as part of a group, this convivial meal is a must.

Name: Tian Xiang Huwei Hot Pot

Branch tried: Second Floor, 16 Nanjing East Road Sec 1, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2511 7275

Web: http://www.tansian.com.tw/ (text only in traditional Chinese)

Opening Hours: seven days a week 11.30-02.00.

Reservations: yeah if you want

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between two people: NT$2,860 (approx. £30 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★★☆

Sometimes the best restaurants are the ones you stumble across completely by accident. I hadn’t originally intended to visit Moe Yakiniku, a small Japanese barbecue restaurant in one of central Taipei’s backstreets, but stumbled across it after finding that my first choice was booked out. As far as I can tell Japanese barbecue is very similar to the more well-known Korean barbecue, but with fewer pungent sauces. This pleased Chip Butty no end – although she wouldn’t eat anything else in Taipei, she has an unnatural passion for Korean barbecue.

The dining room at Moe is small with room for only three dozen covers at most. The grills are set into each table and fuelled by charcoal briquettes which gave our meat a smoky tinge. Although the menu is Chinese-only and the staff only spoke halting English, they were nonetheless exceedingly polite and helped the best they could and they handled all of the cooking at our table-set grills.

It almost doesn’t look like a restaurant.

We started off with a pair of salads, both of which were quite similar with lettuce and tomatoes in a vinegarish dressing. One was topped with a pile of mung bean sprouts while the other had a small tuft of seaweed instead. Since I’m a fan of seaweed I found the seaweed salad more enjoyable, although there wasn’t nearly enough of the firm, slippery green stuff.

Mung!

More of a salad topped with seaweed than a real seaweed salad.

Sadly the limp kimchee wasn’t very spicy or tart.

Cabbage patch kid.

Bizarrely, despite her professed love for Asian barbecue, Chip Butty doesn’t like beef which is in keeping with her weirdly narrow tastes. That meant there was pork and chicken on the grill as well as beef. They were largely unremarkable apart from a few fatty strands of pork and some peppery bits of chicken.

This little piggy went to market.

The real barbecue stars of the night was the beef. There are a staggering number of cuts available from American, Australian and New Zealand cattle. Although I’d like to say that Templeton Peck, Kitchener and I carefully worked our way through the menu choosing the tastiest and most interesting cuts, in reality we simply pointed at the most expensive cuts on the menu – the exchange rate was definitely in our favour.

All of the cuts of beef were marbled with fat and incredibly tender. Cooked medium-medium rare they were all succulent and melted in the mouth. I lost track of which cuts were which but some had an almost honey-like sweetness to them while others had a soy sauce-like salty tinge to them. The accompanying rice wasn’t an afterthought and was suitably soft and fluffy – a stark contrast to the left-over, reheated glump I’ve had in other, less reputable places back home.

Raw materials.

Oh my.

Despite the hot and humid weather we were all tempted by a bubbling cauldron of spicy tofu soup which seemed more Korean than Japanese to me. The tangy, fermented mildly spicy taste was mildly reminiscent of Sichuanese food. It’s not suitable for vegetarians though since bits of minced chicken are scattered throughout, although vegetarians are unlikely to make their way to a barbecue restaurant anyway.

Slurp.

The Verdict

If you’re a carnivore and find yourself in Taipei, then it’s well worth seeking out Moe Yakiniku. Skip the chicken and the pork though and gorge on beef.

Name: Moe Yakiniku

Branch tried: No. 24, Lane 116, Guāngfù South Road, Daan District, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2731 1750

Web: none

Opening Hours: Monday-Friday 17.00-23.00 (last orders 22.30). Saturday-Sunday 14.00-23.00 (last orders 22.30).

Reservations: highly recommended

Total cost for one person including drinks when shared between four people: NT$735 (approx. £16 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★★☆

Arriving in Taipei late at night when you’re in need of a hearty feed is far from ideal. Many restaurants in the capital seem to close by 22.30 or even as early as 21.30. This left myself, Templeton Peck, Chip Butty and Kitchener with ravenous appetites and few options. The rainy weather dissuaded us from visiting one of Taipei’s night markets, so we found ourselves at Citystar, a Dim Sum restaurant that’s conveniently open 24 hours a day.

Somewhat suitably for a 24 hour restaurant Citystar’s large dining room is brightly lit with little in the way of decorative flourishes. If you grab a window table as we did, then you can admire the hustle and bustle of Taipei’s Zhongxiao East Road. None of the staff spoke that much English, but that’s not too much of a problem. The menu has photos and a few English descriptions so if you’re familiar with all the usual Dim Sum staples then you can simply point at what you want.

By and large Citystar’s standard of Dim Sum is largely similar to the kind you’ll find in most London restaurants – acceptable but unremarkable classic Dim Sum with little in the way of inventive new dishes. The prawn and chive  dumplings and the dumplings filled with chopped vegetables, peanuts, mushrooms and ground pork are essentially identical to the versions you’d find back in London.

Chive bunny.

Nutter.

The prawn har gau dumplings and the pork and prawn shumai dumplings are also very similar to the versions you’d find back home, but the fillings here aren’t as bitty and have proper, solid chunks of prawn and prawn and pork respectively. The rice flour skins on most of the dumplings have just the right of thickness and give and don’t stick too much to the steamer baskets in which they are served.

Pearlescent.

Shu, I’m eating.

The taro cake and the prawn-filled deep fried tofu were a little less greasy than the typical London examples of these dishes. Templeton Peck amusingly pointed out the rough similarities in taste between the taro cake and creamed cheesy cabbage, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The crisp layers of tofu filled with lightly salted prawns were my favourite dish of the evening.

Fried food is so wrong, yet so right.

See what I mean?

Things started to come unstuck on dishes that I thought Citystar wouldn’t have any trouble with at all. The steamed bao filled with barbecued pork was unimpressive due to the bitty, meagre filling. Although the fillings of the steamed scallop and white fish cheung fun rolls were fine, the rice flour rolls themselves were a little hard as if they needed a little more time in the steamer or had gone a bit past their use by date.

Don’t bao, kneel! Kneel before Zod.

All fun and no work…

…makes me a hyperactive blogger/reviewer.

Although Templeton Peck has only had Dim Sum on a handful of previous occasions he was more than willing to try all of the above dishes and even seemed to enjoy the steamed chicken feet with black bean sauce. I’m a big fan of the dish and enjoy the soft, wrinkled texture of the feet’s skin.

Phoenix talons.

Chip Butty and Kitchener, on the other hand, were exceedingly timid and unadventurous and didn’t taste any of the Dim Sum. Chip Butty even somehow managed to persuade the kitchen to supply her with some sweet and sour pork which made me cry into my limp, watery tea in despair.

Kitchener, who didn’t seem to get the communal sharing of dishes inherent to Dim Sum, did to his credit order some beef and lotus root stir fried with Sichuan pepper sauce. It’s therefore even more of a shame that the dish turned out to be a disappointment with soft, limp lotus root slices and a complete lack of spiciness, or indeed any flavour at all, which is unforgivable in a dish that allegedly uses Sichuan pepper.

Someone chickened out and ordered the beef.

The Verdict

Citystar’s Dim Sum is cheap by London standards, but the food is nothing special. The real draw is that it’s open around the clock and if you need a hefty feed in the wee hours then this outweighs almost any considerations about the quality of the food.

Name: Citystar 24hr Restaurant

Branch tried: Second Floor, 94 Zhongxiao East Road Section 4, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (2) 2741 2625

Web: none

Opening Hours: 24 hours, seven days a week.

Reservations: not necessary

Total cost for one person including soft drinks when shared between four people: NT$439 (approx. £10 at time of writing)

Rating: ★★★☆☆

The oddly-named Five Cent Driftwood House is a fair trek from the centre of Taipei, but if you’re ever in the Taiwanese capital then it’s worth the journey if only to gawp at the restaurant’s extraordinary design. The bizarre, twisted exterior and the even odder, cavernous multi-level interior almost defy description. To my uneducated Euro-American eyes the restaurant looks like a Gaudi-Gauguin mashup with its organic, asymmetrical forms and vaguely aboriginal, Polynesian aesthetic.

Cthulhu? Is that you?

It was almost impossible to capture the utter scale of this building’s weirdness in one photo (at nighttime anyway).

One of the ground floor tables. Yes, the seats look funky but are brutally uncomfortable.

If you don’t speak or read Mandarin though, be prepared for some rough and ready service. Although the lengthy menu is in English, you order by ticking boxes on a form and then handing it to a waiter. Since my Mandarin is worse than my art history, I had to wait a small ice age for my waiter to find an English-speaking colleague. Service in general was slow, probably due to the epic amount of floor space each waiter has to cover – attempting to order more drinks or ask for the bill was an exercise in futility. In another quirk the bill is settled at the reception on the ground floor rather than at your table. Probably helps preserve the waiters’ shoe leather.

That pond is full of koi and utterly monstrous beasts resembling carp.

Just NT$220,000? I’ll take two.

I was expecting something more inventive from my bowl of rice with sweet potato. What I got was a bowl of steamed rice topped with a slice of sweet potato. It is what it says on the tin I suppose, but the relatively tough, chewy rice also tasted as if it was plopped out of a tin.

Sometimes ‘what it says on the tin’ isn’t always a good thing.

I also expected better from the pork jowl roasted in a miso sauce. The portion was generous and the sauce was surprisingly fruity, but the thin, fatty slices of pork were surprisingly lacking in character and depth of flavour. At least the pickled ginger helps cut through the fattiness.

Howl at the jowl.

The steamed sea bass was better, but then you’d have to try pretty hard to screw up this Chinese staple. The whole fish was big and fresh with plenty of ginger and the odd slice of chilli complimented nicely by lots of soy sauce. Despite the sheer amount of fish, this proved to be surprisingly light.

Getting steamy.

As the massive plate of crisp, bitter but refreshing greens with mushrooms in fragrant sesame oil arrived at my table, it dawned on me that the portion sizes were probably designed for group dining rather than single diners like myself. The staff hadn’t tried to warm or advise me of this, but at least I was getting more than my five-a-day.

Green fuels.

My dinner ended on a sour note with the dessert of green tea and coconut mochi. The very dry, dusty and nutty block that arrived on my table resembled a poor imitation of halva. It didn’t resemble the mochi I’d tried elsewhere in Taipei and it didn’t taste anything like coconut or green tea.

Dry as a bone.

I had to wash down the dusty dessert with some kiwi fruit juice. Although it was relatively thick, its heavily watered down taste was disappointing given the abundance of fresh fruit and squeezed-to-order juices available in many of Taipei’s street markets.

Watery shit downed.

The Verdict

Check out Five Cent Driftwood House for its funky looks, but not for its food. Although there are some dishes worth having, finding them in the tome of a menu and then dealing with the foot-dragging service just isn’t worth it.

Name: Five Cent Driftwood House

Address: 8 Lane 32, NeiHu Road Sec. 1, Taipei, Taiwan

Phone: 00 886 (02) 8501 1472

Web: http://www.five-dime.com.tw/html/homepage.htm

Opening Hours: seven days a week 11.00-14.00 and 17.00-21.00.

Reservations: probably a good idea

Total cost for one person including soft drinks and service charge: NT$1,556 (£34 approx. You’ll pay less if you’re less of a glutton than I am)

Rating: ★★☆☆☆