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Hello Blackbird! Gareth Davis samples a Chicago favourite…

 

BLACKBIRD, CHICAGO

This is as unassuming a spot as you could wish to find; a squat building situated in an area of Chicago known as the West Loop (a reference to the city’s 19th century cable car route), this one room ground floor space could close tomorrow and open as an art gallery. Rectangular, white, with lots of sharp 70s retro edges framed by a large floor to ceiling window gazing out onto the street; the effect is simple and chic. And the atmosphere is buzzing. That’s no bad thing in these recessionary times. I visited on a Monday night and the dining room was utterly butterly rammed. The only downer with all those hard surfaces however, is that the noise bounces around. This is one blackbird that does a lot of cawing.
Contemporary American hardly does justice to the creativity Chef de Cuisine Mike Sheerin is displaying. There’s a whole lot of verve behind his use of seasonal flavours, and some of the combos are wonderful. I opted for a tasting menu of 9 dishes at $100.
I visited back in March and this was reflected in the dishes on offer. The Jerusalem artichoke bisque with Jonah crab, English peas, sorrel, and lime was a wonderful portent of spring; fresh, green with great differentiation of flavour. It was followed by sepia noodles with green garlic, red onion jam, trout caviar, nasturtiums and buttermilk, not only a work of art but an amazingly complex dish which succeeded in delivering clean, clean flavours. The highlight of the charcuterie plate was the twinning of warm lamb country pate with cold pickled lamb’s tongue whilst poached Alaskan halibut with Spence farm ramps, little gem romaine, candied pecans, parmesan broth, and cured egg yolks was a delicate delight.
The all out winner which left all other dishes trailing however was the roasted loin of lamb with red miso financier, charred spring onions, green almonds and cilantro; the meat was cooked to perfection and the taste sensation was absolutely spot on.
White chocolate mousse with kumquats, green tea streusel and cara cara sorbet was a beautiful dessert, the kumquats providing a terrific zingy kick. Pear cider doughnuts however I found less successful; too much emphasis on the doughy, which dominated the dish.
I have no hesitation in saying that I will be making a return trip to Blackbird on my next visit to the Windy City. It’s easy to see why it already has 12 years of steadfast popularity under its belt. I didn’t find it a life changing experience but there’s no detracting from top notch cooking and a skilled mastery of composition and flavour. Blackbird, caw on!

Celebrity British Chef Richard Corrigan sets foot in Mayfair and Gareth Davis discovers a little slice of contemporary heaven …

 

CORRIGAN’S MAYFAIR, LONDON W1

Just off Park Lane in London’s prime property belt, Chef Richard Corrigan’s latest venture is an exercise in understatement. As the UK capital’s restaurants veer somewhere between the trendy and modish, some may find Corrigan’s Mayfair staid, even old fashioned. I’d describe it as classy and clubby - but far from stuffy. The low ceilinged space is divided almost equally between bar and dining room, distressed mirrored tiles alternate with oak panels whilst chairs and stools remain understated in a retiring jade green leather. The overall effect is reminiscent of the likes of J Sheekey or The Ivy and like those two venues, I predict this one will last.

Corrigan’s signature venture Lindsay House in Soho closed a few months ago after a 12 year run; Bentley’s in Swallow Street is still going strong; and having garnered the Evening Standard’s Best New Restaurant of the Year 2008 for the Mayfair property, I don’t think I’m being over optimistic or revealing a talent for prophecy when I say this one has legs.

We kicked off in the bar with a couple of glasses of bubbly. These were on the pricey side at £13 a shot. Wine however was much more reasonable; a glass of white from £5.60 and red from £5.70. I tried a stonking glass of Trocken Riesling 2007 Nahe at £8.50 which was an explosion of fruit and minerality.
Corrigan prides himself on a hearty down-to-earth approach to food and that’s certainly reflected on the menu; ne’er jus or tuile or foam to be seen. Rabbit cutlet, roast spring lamb, chicken and leek pie, braised pig’s trotter, a stream of tried and tested classics that immediately offer reassurance. No, it’s not an insular menu in the sense that it’s all things British. Carpaccio, foie gras, brandade and others make a show but the produce is reassuringly seasonal and much of it is of British origin. One sour note; for a vegetarian, this is one hell of an off-putting menu. Pure joy for an omnivore like me, but see the wrinkled brow of my dining companion, Chris. He really wasn’t having the same experience. Admittedly the waiter reassured him with options chef could knock up but I think there should be clearly specified vegetarian dishes – and I’m not talking vegetables. One thing he couldn’t do was satisfy a celiac; gluten-free bread was a no-no.

It had been a hot day in London but the evening was chilly. Not on my tongue however. Summer continued in the best pea and mint risotto that I’ve tasted in many a year. Accentuated by slivers of cured ham, this was cooking of the highest order as my palate swerved like a speedboat between the two flavours. Chris’ hot English asparagus with soft hen’s egg also ticked boxes; the beurre blanc with Riesling was a stunner.
The display of artistry continued with the main, roast spring lamb with pea and mint. A selection of cuts, perfectly cooked and though rustic in its taste, urban in its presentation. Chris opted for the pea and mint risotto as his starter and whilst his taste buds careered through it, I sampled the wine.

We went for two half bottles; a 2005 Riesling Rheingau at £27 and a 2005 Saint Julien, Led Fiefs de Lagrange at £35. The Riesling was a lot more complex than the Nahe, not so soft, minerals more to the fore but a splendid little drinker with food. The Saint Julien on the other hand was sumptuous. 2005 was a stunning year and this was a little corker. The wine list by the way is a fantastic marriage of choice and information that strikes a very rare balance; informative enough for the amateur without patronising the expert. Andrea our wine waiter also helped.
We ended with Eton Mess that combined fresh strawberries with meringue and cream to echo candy floss in such a way that I could almost feel the sun and sand on my face.

It’s a joy to sample cooking of such calibre where top notch produce and clean flavours combine to produce such unfussy, good tasting food. I’ve spent all this year wading – and chewing – my way through every which way of concocting and creating but little has given me as much pleasure as this. I unreservedly give Corrigan’s Mayfair a gold star for good contemporary cooking as it was meant to be.

 

Cardiff acquires a new star eatery as Gareth Davis discovers…

HOLM HOUSE, PENARTH - WALES

The restaurant scene in Cardiff evolves slowly. Surprising perhaps for a capital city but then Cardiff is a small place. It has a population of around three hundred thousand, comparable in size to Coventry and Leicester. The big restaurant chains come and go but the world of serious eating tends to remain fairly static. Le Gallois, a favourite of mine, has been top of the food chain for the past 11 years but finally, there’s a new beast on the block; Neale’s Restaurant at Holm House in Penarth.

This seaside town gazes down on Cardiff Bay from its cliff top position and although not officially part of the capital, it is a dormitory spot for the city’s commuters. A century ago it’s where South Wales’ shipping millionaires built their show homes, one of which was Holm House. Built in 1926, it stands at the end of Marine Parade, also known as Millionaires’ Row, a villa where Agatha Christie might feel at home. There she could sit on the terrace, weaving her tortuous plots whilst gazing out across the lawn and down onto the waters of the Severn Estuary. More recently, the property was a nursing home. It opened as a luxury hotel in June 2007.

Inside, there are plenty of nods to the 20s. There’s a Deco echo in the design; dark, sumptuous wood panelling in the hall and two leather armchairs sporting characteristic metal tubular arms. The light fittings smack of Nouveau with their twisted organic shapes, the light flickering through them like the moon through branches. The bar is a moody spot, dressed in bronzes, browns and golds with that mix of rich fabrics and textures that has become the signature interior look for this decade. Drinks by the way are top drawer. I had an impeccable Negroni whilst my dining companion enjoyed his best ever Old Fashioned.

The dining room outdoes the photos on the website. What looks a little Laura Ashley online is actually a gorgeous light space with modish flock wallpaper in silver and plum. The room is more than capable of sustaining the bold design, and there’s matching boldness at play in the glassware. Huge turrets of wine glasses really deliver on the wow factor
The menu isn’t extensive but that’s no bad thing; a choice of 4 starters, 4 mains, and 4 desserts. Coming in at £39.50 for 4 courses, a rhubarb and ginger sorbet is squished in-between the starter and the main, and tasty though it was, I did find it a bit superfluous.
My starter of gravadlax with beetroot tartar and sauce remoulade was a little undewhelming. The main however was a different story. Herb crusted chop and chump of Welsh lamb with a suet pudding of slow braised lamb shoulder, spring Savoy cabbage, Chantenay carrots, and thyme jus ticked all the boxes. The previous evening I’d dined at the multi-Michelin starred Le Gavroche in London. At Neale’s, chef Chris Lelliott’s take on Wales’ signature meat continued the high standards. A joy.

We ended with a fantastic crème brulee and a black forest cocktail that was hugely rich and fruity, and as dark as any Teutonic wood you could imagine.

A note on the wine list; it’s a good selection with plenty in the £19 - £27 bracket and nice to see a nod to local winemakers in the shape of a fruity Welsh white from Cock Hill.

I’m a regular visitor to Cardiff and at the higher end, eating out can sometimes pall. At last, there’s somewhere new to celebrate and I will be back before summer’s out, to sip and sup again at Holm House and gaze out across its garden...      

Urban chic served the old fashioned Italian way is what Gareth Davis discovers in Boston…

SPORTELLO, BOSTON USA

Opening and filling a restaurant during a recession is no mean feat, but that’s what chef Barabara Lynch is doing at Sportello in Boston’s Fort Point neighbourhood. Ok, so Lynch is as much a stalwart of the Boston scene as the proverbial bean, responsible for No. 9 Park and B&G Oysters amongst others, but that’s not to detract from what is a palpable hit. Sportello opened its doors last November and whilst rival eateries are battling for business, her new take on the traditional Italian lunch counter was as crowded as a Puccini chorus on the Saturday that I visited.

Sportello means “counter service” and that’s what you get. Her upstairs dining room is white and bright though any whiff of the clinical is offset by the bustling open kitchen that lines the far wall. A high bar stretches along the length of it, jutting out twice into the room, forming two islands surrounded by stools where diners indulge in communal counter eating. There’s a bakery counter come deli in one corner selling fabulous pastries and all sorts of nibbly niceties. The remainder of the room consists of a couple of common or garden tables for two and another more sizable bench for parties.

In fact, the venue could do with a few more of the latter because the one thing I learnt about counter eating during my visit was it’s prefect for couples but bloody awful for groups of four or more. You end up strung out along the bar and God forbid you get stuck on the end with someone you don’t like cause that’s your night scuppered.

The food however will ease the experience; as fresh and as delicate a take on regional Italian cooking as you could wish. And of course, there’s ne’er a microwave in sight. You can’t hide in an open kitchen and here everything is chopped, sautéed, cubed and cooked from scratch.

The Tuscan bean soup I kicked off with had Spring steaming through the escarole, an apple greenness that made me forget the minus 2 degree temperatures outside. Caseroncelli followed, a little known pasta that looks a bit like a squished bow tie. This was not such a success. Stuffed with mimolette cheese, very tasty, very salty, and utterly overwhelming the sage in which they were tossed. The hit of the evening was my main; braised veal breast with cardoons, celeriac and celery socking great flavour and consistency, all soft meat topped by crunchy crackling. I’m not a dessert kind of guy but I’d give the chocolate ginger cake a thumbs up.

There are 6 wines served by the glass, 3 reds and 3 whites. All are small artisanal producers. I tried 2 of the whites, a Quattro Mani Toh-kai from Friuli and a Cusumano Alcamo from Sicily both of which left me underwhelmed; all on the nose and very thin in the mouth.

The cocktail I sampled in the basement bar on my arrival was much more of a success. The bar is straight up, called Drink; an industrial space with swathes of natural woods and a tad voyeuristic as you follow the feet of passers-by through the high narrow windows at street level. It’s proving popular and was buzzing early evening. I particularly liked the way the barman declaimed the ingredients in my cocktail as he served it to me.

Sportello is as sharp an urban space as you could wish. In fact, it’s where you come to chow down on a lifestyle. Imagine Martha Stewart, the Berkshires, organic foods, stylish young families, and the chic older Diane Keaton all rolled into one and you’ll get the gist of it.

I must admit that I’m not a huge fan of open plan kitchens, reminds me of sex with the light on, very hit and miss, but in the case of Sportello, it’s integral to the experience – and works. Equally integral are the stools unfortunately. The whole “lunch counter” concept is all well and good - at lunchtime. At dinner, it’s hardly conducive to unwinding over a leisurely meal. Of course, this may well be the point. I noticed a rapid turnaround of guests during my visit. But more than that, stools do your back in. I left Sportello satisfied but sore. Surprisingly, not unlike sex at my age...

A Soho institution has a makeover but Gareth Davis asks if it was worth the effort …

KETTNER’S - LONDON, UK

There are surprisingly few eateries on London’s sprightly restaurant scene that maintain a sense of continuity and dare I say it, history. But one of those to date, a stalwart of Bohemian Soho, has been Kettner’s. Founded in the 1870s by Napoleon III’s chef de choix, Auguste Kettner, its dark wood panelled walls and private dining spaces were favourite haunts of Oscar Wilde, Edward VII, Lillie Langtry and other late Victorian partygoers. Even its transformation into a pizzeria, courtesy of the Pizza Express chain in 1980, did little to detract from its glorious past and plush though raddled décor. And now, after months of renovation, Kettner’s has given itself a kick up the cornicing and is back – as a brasserie.

I’m a great fan of brasserie fare, at least the good stuff, but Kettner’s has a problem; the old lady’s all-dressed up and what she’s serving ain’t up to much.

The property is still owned by The Gondola Group, who also own Pizza Express, but the aim is for Kettner’s to occupy its own niche. All the dark wood that lined the staircase has been painted over. Now the space is all airy modern neutrals; taupes and whites and creams. The plush tired carpeting has been replaced by hard tile and though the pianist plays on, the chandeliers twinkle, and there’s the popping of corks from the champagne bar next door, the overall feel is clinical. Ilse Crawford’s design has replaced the table linen with swathes of Carrera marble and other bits of furniture that fail to achieve eclecticism. It all just looks downright odd. I can see the stab at Belle Epoque but it’s a stab in the dark.

The menu is fairly standard brasserie fare – French onion soup at €7, steak tartare at €10, foie gras at €12, and duck confit at €16; all favourites of mine. The problem is that what I opted for, just failed abysmally to get up and running; a leek and gruyere tart at €8 that was in desperate need of seasoning, possibly the dullest tart ever laid before me. This was followed by a Boeuf Bourguignon at €16 that was nattily served in a little copper pan and certainly upped the ante on flavour but also outdid the fat quota. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I encountered so much fat in a restaurant dish.

It’s a sad comment that pizza (and let’s face it, Pizza Expresses pizzas are pretty darn good) has been replaced by such piecemeal fare. I visited Kettner’s on a Friday night and the place was buzzing. My concern is how long the buzz will last.

Gareth Davis discovers creativity and quality share the number one spot at Vanilla …

VANILLA - LONDON W1, UK

After months of fabulous though solid fare, what a zipping start to the New Year with a restaurant that takes quality and douses it with as much creativity as any 4 courses can sustain. Vanilla may be shoved up the arse end of Great Titchfield Street in London’s West End but here’s a venue that’s destined to become a destination in its own right.

The innocuous façade of a standard office building doesn’t prepare you for the venue proper. The stairwell in silver damask paper, looks like it’s been decorated by Paperchase and opens out onto a grotto of virgin white; intimate booths are created by crisp hanging damask drapes, the furniture is white, retro sculpted curves and bucket–style seats, all very Space 1999. Any danger of monotony is fractured by flashes of colour – blue, red, rose lighting – and the overall effect is quite beautiful; this is style with a capital S and a place where bright young urban things come to sparkle against the snow.

There’s an unending ba-boom in the background (what I assume is called “chilled sounds”) but there’s no danger of mistaking this lounge for some late night alco-hole. Sipping on a cocktail – very reasonably priced at £8 – you can peruse the menus and it’s immediately obvious that food is to the fore. This is a Tasting Menu only venue; there are 3 options from Just a Taste (4 courses) at £40 to Journey of Taste (10 courses) at £75 (24 hours notice is needed for the latter).    
I went in at the lower tier, and what with an amuse bouche and a pre-dessert, the 4 quickly became 6 courses. I have to say by comparison with the immaculate décor, the wipe clean menus looked a little tawdry.

The dining room comes as a bit of a shock after the Snow Queen’s parlour. It’s the Ying to the lounge’s Yang so to speak. White becomes luxuriant black – floors, walls, seating. The wine list is tight with good coverage though nothing surprising. New and Old Worlds are well represented and reasonably priced; whites from £15.50, and reds from £16.50.

The conservatism of the wine selection is blasted out of the water as soon as the amuse bouche slides onto the table in front of you. You enter the world of multi-Michelin chef Izu Ani, a place where nothing is as it seems. The potatoes on the slate may look like a pair of little grey testes but they’ve actually been baked in kaolin clay (yes, the stuff they put in face masks). These tatties are for dipping in garlic aioli, salt, seeds, and ground pumpkin (which tastes a bit like popcorn). I can only describe the dish as bizarre. The aim is to prepare the digestive system for what’s to follow; as food, it may serve a purpose but it has little to offer the palette.

This is followed by one of Ani’s signature dishes – scallop with a potato and black pudding terrine and pumpkin puree. Now we’re back on track. The flavours are excellent as are the textures. A 64° egg was next up, cooked at 64 fahrenheit for 45 minutes the aim so to achieve parity of consistency between yolk and white. So it does, though beyond the technical “wow” factor I could see little further point to it. The accompanying ham hock, potatoes and rocket however again delivered on flavour. The main of duck breast with scattered blueberries, pickled girolles, and a smear of carrot puree was a beautifully balanced dish but the size of portions was beginning to tell. These were fairly significant “tasting” plates and ultimately, I failed to finish.

The most memorable dish of the evening came as the pre-dessert. Wild berry bubbles and a vanilla cream beignet were a triumph of invention and taste. The scarlet foam half filled the glass bowl and bristled with intense flavour, beautifully offsetting the creamy delicate doughnut alongside. The dessert proper of tonka bean frozen cream, salted caramel (very) and the darkest browniest brownie I’ve ever had was as nothing after being blown away by bubbles.

There’s no doubt Vanilla left me awed and impressed, reigniting my enthusiasm for another year of restauranteering. And the irony of its name didn’t escape me, that most common-a-garden of flavourings fronting the most creative of cuisine. But I left feeling as if I’d taken part in an intellectual gastronomic exercise. There was little of heart and palette and no burst of joy, the kind of thing that makes you want to adopt a place as your local. Instead, Vanilla’s a venue you want your friends to experience the once, all “oohs” and “aahs”. I’m not convinced it’s a restaurant you want to embrace.

 

Gareth Davis visits Key West and finds an old favourite that still delivers with style…

MARTIN'S - KEY WEST, FLORIDA, USA

For such a tiny speck of a place Key West Florida, the pendant at the end of a long island chain, is packed with culinary goodies. The moneyed who make their way here for the winter months insist on quality and verve in their cooking. It’s sink or swim when a new restaurant opens its doors, and locals are very upfront in expressing their opinions. So the fact that Martin’s at 917 Duval Street has been around for 20 years is testament to great achievement. This is a fairly new location for the long-standing eatery. A year ago the Busam brothers, front-of-house Fritz, and eponymous chef Martin, relocated from a trad little spot on Appelrouth Lane to what is undoubtedly the most stylish site on the Key West Strip.

Duval Street is the island’s main drag; a tumble of art galleries, souvenir shops, high street brands, bars, and restaurants. And at night, the searing cobalt blue light against black of Martin’s sets this place apart from the rest of the twinkle. A shaft of the urbane, the likes of South Beach, New York or London, seems to have landed, stark alongside the Victoriana. The dining room to the left is replete with crisp linens and crystals, walls in silverine paper and B&W photos uplit in soft pinks and aquamarine. To the right an open air lounge bar stretches back to a garden dining area. There’s something of the Japanese in the design of the lounge – white walls, black wooden block tables, floating chiffon drapes, raffia armchairs and sofas with pale upholstering, and a long banquette. The latter supports a 15ft signature photographic canvas consisting of panels of dark green climbing ivy. It’s the work of Fritz who for many years was a photographer in Germany, as is the design of the whole site. The intimate garden space is spotted with more intimate linen-covered tables and lit by flaming torches. The result is hugely chic and a refreshing urban breeze in Key West’s hot gastromanic climate.

Of course, all would be in vain if the cooking weren’t up to scratch. And it is. 20 years is a long time to sustain excellence but back in the kitchen that’s exactly what Martin has done. “Modern European with an island influence” is how he describes his approach. The latter is seen in the strong representation of locally sourced fish and crustacea. For European visitors there’s the gorgeously comforting presence of escargot, filet mignon, beef wellington, and splashes of Germanica like wiener schnitzel reflecting the brothers Black Forest origins. Starters are from $14.50 and mains from $20.50.

In my opinion, the wine list is the best on the island – and I’ve waded through many a tawdry volume of confusion and blandness. Old World balances New with a strong varietal presence from Albarino through Riesling and even a good old Alsace Gewurztraminer. Reds start at $36 for a Californian Pinot Noir and whites from $30 for an Italian Pinot Grigio.

I kicked off with seared foie gras on rocket with balsamic vinegar and a poached pear topped by lingonberry marmalade; the f.g. was gorgeously soft and more than able to hold its own against the sharp balsamic and sweet fruit. My dinner companion had a tropical Waldorf Salad which reinvigorated my interest in what’s unfortunately become a bit of a sandwich filler; this salad was all crunch and creaminess.

We both had duck breast “schwazwald”, another nod to the Old Country, which consisted of soft pink slivers of quack with the sting of raspberry vinaigrette and more poached pear and lingonberry. Ending with Banana Fosters, a torrent of caramelised banana and cinnamon syrup over vanilla ice cream, we got our first whiff of the New Country; the portion was typically American in size.

Out in the lounge, diners were nibbling on tasty little tapas; old favourites like Serrano ham and jalapeno remoulade and touches of cheekiness like curry wurst. Post 11pm on Friday and Saturdays the lounge transforms into a chill out area where 30 somethings unwind to the sounds of light house. I can think of no better way of meditating on what could possibly be the best cooking I’ve ever enjoyed in Key West.     

Gareth Davis discovers a culinary jewel in the heart of South East England

OCKENDEN MANOR - SUSSEX, UK

During a recent weekend in Brighton (more on that next month) I was lucky enough to visit West Sussex’s only Michelin-starred restaurant. Ockenden Manor is just as it sounds; a Tudor pile in the an Emnglish village that would make an American weep, just 25 minutes from the south coast and an hour from London. The night was dank and chilly, just the sort you want to close a pair of heavy plush curtains on, and at Ockenden, you can. I sat in front of a murmuring log fire on a deep chintzy sofa perusing the menu whilst sipping on Kir Royal. The sun could have been shining in the night sky and I wouldn’t have known.

I opted for the seven course tasting menu (£67.50) as is ever the case when confronted by Michelin-quality cooking. The idea is to maximise the range of flavours. So sat in a wood panelled dining room where the tread of staff was stifled by the deep shag, in my minds eye I anticipated the waves of culinary delight about to break over me.

A pumpkin soup with parmesan agnolotti got things off to a good start; beautifully smooth punctuated by the bite of the pasta. Accompanying it I enjoyed a glass of Dopff & Irion Pinto Blanc 2004 packed with steely fruit, crisp apples and elderflowers. My next dish would have wilted in the face of this so I shifted to a South African Nederburg Noble Late Harvest 2007 , a huge apple tart of a swig, bursting with sweetness and undertones of golden syrup. The perfect accompaniment to my pressed terrine of foie gras which struck perfection, Scallop and cuttlefish tumbled on exhibiting fantastic flavour and texture, the cuttlefish especially.

Then a pause; a lime and champagne sorbet the likes of which I’ve never had, a blitzkrieg of glorious citrus, huge tartness and fruit. The kind of lime-iness that makes real limes seem somehow awfully fake.

Seared, stripped and ready to meet my maker, like some Old Testament prophet I stepped up to greet the venison. Succulent, soft, intense but the true revelation came in the form of a Spargolo 2001. I was my first time for this Tuscan classic. 100% Sangiovese, its low tannins and massive fruit hit the spot; and became the evening’s highlight.

Slowly the visions faded and I drifted back to earth, beautifully reduced like Alice, to find myself settled into a lemon tart. Shame on those weighty stodgy things that line the supermarket shelves; here was lemon tart as it was eaten in Eden, as light and as creamy as the afterlife.

By now you will have gathered that I’d left the oak panelled environs of Ockenden fair behind. And excuse my muddled metaphors but that’s what comes of launching oneself into the land of myriad flavours. When perfectly evoked and stunningly drawn, each one impels such different landscapes, times, and experiences.

Dining at Ockenden was no great theatrical event. The Englishness of the surroundings perfectly matched the tidy, modest way in which my meal presented itself. But burrow into its flavours at your peril. This is alchemy and I say to Head Chef Steven Crane, I’m on to you. Stunning.

 

Japanese food in a magical disco setting is what Gareth Davis discovers this month on a trip to Manchester…

ITHACA - MANCHESTER, UK

Ithaca brings out the child in you. The corridor twinkles with silver disco glitter and polished black granite floors. It’s like the Castle of the Snow Queen - if she’d ever been played by Olivia Newton John. The restaurant spread over two floors consists of a series of ghettoes with black walls, more of the same twinkling granite, and long chandeliers consisting of rectangular shards of mirror that hang like icicles. The dark seats are so velvety and cuddly; they almost look like fur in this Arctic light. Matching drapes and gossamer silver shears complete the magic. Time to turn on the glitter ball. But just as you’ve persuaded yourself that this must be a Scandinavian restaurant, along comes the menu and bites you in the reindeer. It’s Japanese; sushi though sashimi through wagyu beef and miso lamb.

The sushi menu is extensive featuring 3 types of tuna including 0-Toro and Chu Toro which are cuts uncommon cuts from the tuna’s belly. There’s nothing shoddy about this sushi; beautifully made featuring taught fresh fish and firm rice. It’s not difficult to accept the restaurant’s boast that this is the best Japanese in the North. It could also give many a London venue a run for its mahi.

I moved onto wagyu beef carpaccio; thin slices of cured beef, each small square topped by a garlic crisp, sitting in ginger dressing with a mizuna salad. The beef was fantastically textured exhibiting the signature marbling but flavour was disappointing.

Next Chilean sea bass steeped in chilli saikyo miso (a fermented soybean and rice paste) and then roasted. This was wonderfully delicate fish with great flavour. The accompanying pak choi and ginger was somehow inconsequential. But the fish itself was a triumph.
Dessert was a chocolate and peanut spring roll which I found gimmicky and underwhelming. The accompanying poached pear and creamy caramel ice cream were more satisfying.

The wine list is a bit of a puzzle. I have no idea why there are photos of the actual bottles in the margins. It all seems very juvenile as if the customer is not being taken seriously. Other than that, it’s a great selection and the warm words of Jancis Robinson explaining each varietal are very soothing. I opted for a gewurtzraminer from Ribeauville which consisted of stunning shots of passion fruit through toffee.
The week before I visited Ithaca, Victoria Beckham had popped in for a bite (a single sushi sufficing no doubt) and this touches on my only concern for the future of this restaurant. There’s more than a whiff of the modish about it. The food is absolutely solid but I have a feeling the décor may pall. It doesn’t have it sights set beyond the next season. At the moment, it’s attracting the “crowd” but as we know, the “crowd” likes to move on.

Petra Shepherd samples a Chicago institution that’s as much about the experience as the food…

GOSPEL BRUNCH AT CHICAGO’S HOUSE OF BLUES - CHICAGO, USA

Chicago is a city of chains; it’s where the first McDonald’s franchise opened and there’s no shortage of Pizzeria Unos and Giordanos, birthplace of the famous Deep Pan.  And there’s one chain with branches from Anaheim to Myrtle Beach that’s truly at home in the Windy City. That’s the House of Blues, founded in 1992 by legendary Blues Brother Dan Aykroyd.

As well as a venue for live music and Southern-inspired cuisine, the House of Blues is also famous for its Gospel Brunch.  So, on a visit to Chicago in September I decided to treat my nieces to a totally different experience from an English fry-up and Saturday morning tele which is their usual weekend fare. 
The award-winning Gospel Brunch is a one-of-a-kind live music show and dining experience.  Guests enjoy an all-you-can-eat buffet while a local gospel group performs live onstage. Each week there’s a different line-up. There are two sittings, one at 10 am, the other at 12:30 pm, with a 3:00 pm seating (so more like high tea than brunch) often added on holidays.  Up early with jet lag, we opted for the 10 am sitting by which time the girls were pretty hungry.  And there was more than enough food to go round. In fact, there was so much food that it made some of the all inclusive hotel and Las Vegas style buffets I’ve come across pale by comparison.   One tip - arrive a good 15 minutes early to be first in the queue for the buffet. Seating however is allocated. While you’re waiting, you can admire the American folk art on the walls, affectionately known as the Visual Blues. 

We sat in the pit, great for atmosphere and you really feel part of the show, though there’s always that worry that the closer you are to the stage, the more likely you’re going to be picked on for some audience participation.  The brunch is hugely popular and they do tend to try and cram in as many people as possible, leaving very little room on the table for all those plates of food. Again, there’s so much choice that it’s a bit of a race to fill up your plate, sample all the choices on offer, AND get pudding in the 45 minutes max before the show begins. By the way, pudding for brunch was a first for me.  

Now, the food; take a deep breath – the menu featured cornbread muffins with maple butter, pecan caramel sticky buns, cheese filled tortellini salad with smoked salmon, capers, red onion and pear tomatoes, traditional Caesar salad, southern fried chicken, homemade macaroni and cheese, Creole chicken and shrimp jambalaya, carved smoked turkey breast and prime rib of beef.  Yes, sounds more like a Sunday lunch than brunch, but then there are all the breakfast bits; hickory smoked bacon and breakfast sausage links, homemade biscuits and country gravy, breakfast potatoes with sautéed onions and peppers, and once you’ve queued up for all that, you can join other queues for waffles and an omelette station.  Finally, it’s a mad dash to fill up your plate with white chocolate walnut brownies, homemade fruit cobbler and white chocolate banana bread pudding before the show begins. 

The girls and I were in heaven.  My favourite was the jambalaya, a New World take on the Old World dish paella, and very tasty it was too, although it could have done without a caramel sticky bun (my fault).  The glass of mimosa was a nice touch.  That’s a Buck Fizz to those of us on this side of the pond. My plans for giving the girls a new taste experience were scuttled however as they were first in line for the waffles and were back there pretty shortly afterwards for seconds. The waffles got a big thumbs up.

But let’s face it, you can get a brunch almost anywhere in the States and at the House of Blues, no matter how phenomenal the buffet,  the Gospel Brunch is all about the music. The audience is encouraged to join in, so set your European inhibitions aside, clap your hands, and hallelujah like a sister.  No visit to Chicago is complete without taking in some live music and for a family, the gospel brunch is highly recommended.  It was a great way of introducing a new kind of music to my Amy Winehouse High School Musical loving nieces.  None of us were too embarrassed to swing a napkin around and we all felt it was good value at US$45 for adults and US$22 for children. And with all that food, you only really need a light snack for the rest of the day.

OK so the House of Blues may seem like a strange choice for Restaurant of the Month, but it really is an uplifting musical experience with a top notch buffet thrown in – praise the lord and pass the biscuits !